Read To Murder Matt Online

Authors: Viveca Benoir

Tags: #glamour, #Novel, #best seller, #Saga, #Romance, #Passion, #sexy, #To Murder Matt, #murder mystery

To Murder Matt (13 page)

BOOK: To Murder Matt
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“Rest my sweet. Everything will be ok. Leave it with me. Know you are safe. Nothing will ever happen to you again.” He smiled at her tenderly, his eyes full of emotion.

She shut her eyes, reassured by the presence of someone who made her feel safe. Until recently she had loathed this man with a capital “L”, yet now when she needed someone to be strong for her, he was there to help. How she had misjudged him. The man who had tricked her into his bed was now comforting her with all the tenderness of a parent to a child. Perhaps she could love him. She turned over, and drifted into a deep troubled sleep, because her thoughts told her she would have to leave him as well.

Later, when she next opened her eyes, Nico had gone and Marie was sitting by her bed, her eyes showing concern.

“Hello you, how you feeling?”

Veronique smiled. For the first time since the beginning of their relationship, something had come between them. Gone were the physical stirrings normally aroused at the sight of Marie. Instead, there was a comfortable feeling of closeness and friendship. Veronique started to speak.

“Marie, something has happened.”

“Shh, yes I know. Don’t worry, you are safe now.”

“No. You don’t understand.”

“Hush, rest, there will be plenty of time to talk later.”

“No, I must tell you something.”

“Yes of course,” Marie sat forward, patiently waiting and smiling. Veronique searched for the words that would tell her gently; the words that would break her friend’s heart. Words that she thought she would never say to her. The words that told her she would always love her, but never again in the same way.

Marie saw the pain flickering across Veronique’s face as she struggled to say something. She instinctively knew what and felt a stab of pain in her heart. There was one other time someone had looked at her this same way. Greg, just before he told her he no longer loved her. It was the same look and it was the last time she had seen him. That memory lingered with her every day and had never vanished. The words were engraved on her mind, on her heart and now, she prepared herself to hear them again. She steeled herself then she started to speak quietly.

“Veronique, no, you rest. Let me speak then you can have your say. I am sorry, there is no easy way to say this and I have been looking for the right words for such a long time. I don’t know how to make them less painful.” She paused, and then continued gently, the words clear and slow. “You have been everything to me.” The words began to choke in her throat, but she swallowed hard and fought back the tears. “You have always been there for me, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t ever want to lie to you as a friend, as my lover. I cant bear it.” She sniffed and wiped away a tear. Next would be the biggest lie she would ever have to say. “But I have met someone else. I don’t want to lose your friendship. You will always be special to me, but we can’t go on like this.”

Veronique put her hand up to Marie and held her hand. She knew that Marie had understood what she was going to say to her. She understood too, that she had helped her end it, by cutting out her own heart and giving it to her friend. Veronique started to cry too, she opened her arms, Marie hugged her and together they sobbed.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Together with their joint tears, they washed away their relationship and their mutual past. Their chapter together was over.

Lying in bed after Marie had gone, gave Veronique the chance to think. She knew that she would have to escape Matt, and to do so, she would have to change her identity, her job, her looks, everything about herself. She would have to create a whole new persona, a new life, a new history and a new career resume. She would have to leave everyone that knew her to date behind. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she could see no alternative.

Her role would have to be in shipping as that was all she knew. She could use her existing knowledge, her languages. Besides, shipping was in her blood.

***

N
ow, having given a few months’ notice from the moment she was able to work, she grew restless to leave. She no longer left the ship in France. Her relationship with the captain grew closer, day-by-day, but was totally platonic after the ‘mugging incident.’ She had developed a gentle professional respect for him, but was careful to not allow another situation that could compromise her professionalism. Careful planning consumed her. She could leave the ship earlier, by using her accrued holiday allowance, and this would allow her more flexibility.

Leafing through the papers a few weeks later Veronique had been delighted to find a role that matched her skills. An English company was looking for a multi-lingual ambassador. They were in the yacht chartering business, looking to set up global operations. The position would primarily be based in the UK, but with global travel, and a later relocation to maybe the Bahamas or Spain. It included an attractive salary, executive accommodation, all expenses, a car and extensive worldwide travel. Veronique couldn’t wait to contact them and strode quickly back to her cabin to call them. This would be the perfect role for her; she had all the experience they were looking for. She had immediately emailed her resume to them. They were due to dock later that day in Palma de Majorca, and if things went well she could leave the ship that day, and fly straight there. Another few weeks later, she still hadn’t heard anything, and decided to call them and check what the current situation was.

“Hello? Smythe Yacht International Ltd,” the voice was cool and professional at the other end of the phone and Veronique’s heart was beating so loudly, she was sure it could be heard on the phone.

“Hello. I am calling about the position advertised in the newspaper. I applied and I am wondering what is happening. Has the role been filled?”

“Who is calling?” Veronique paused a moment then continued confidently.

“Priscilla Harrison.” She had almost said her real name, but was surprised at how easily a fake name had come to her mind and rolled off her tongue just as easily.

“One moment.” Margaret stood up and looked around the door into Dean’s office and saw him still scanning other resumes on his desk. She saw the frustration on his face.

“Dean, I have a call for you, from a Priscilla Harrison, about the vacancy.”

“Ok put her through.” He waited for the call to be transferred to his phone. “Hello, this is Dean Montalban Smythe.”

“Hello Sir, I sent my resume through to you recently,” as she spoke, he was leafing through all the papers on his desk, looking for her letter. “I haven’t heard anything and I wanted to know when you would like to interview me? I am flying to the UK today and will be available later this afternoon, if you are free?”

The conversation continued and Veronique was able to answer all his questions as well as tell him about herself. They arranged to meet later that day for an interview. She explained she was flying in from Palma and would call him on her arrival in the UK. She had been pleasantly surprised at his candor regarding the job, and also his easy conversation sprinkled with a quiet sense of humor. She couldn’t wait to leave the ship.

Disembarking later that day, she turned and took one last look at the ship that had been her home for the past few years. No one knew of her plans. Her luggage, and few personal belongings, had been disguised in a rucksack and a canvas picnic basket, and to all intents and purposes, she was going for a day out. Only those at the head office knew today was her last day. A new cruise director would be reporting for duty that evening. She looked up at the bridge and saw the captain speaking with his first officer. She smiled as he looked her way briefly and waved. She waved back and walked away. Each step taking her towards her new life.

Veronique booked into a hotel near the marina. This would give her the opportunity to change her appearance before she met him. She was going to dye her hair a rich dark brown with black streaks to add depth. She had bought green contacts to change the colour of her blue eyes. In addition, she bought some expensive glasses with clear lenses to give her the appearance of needing to wear them. With a new hairstyle consisting of a loose chignon and a completely different style of clothes, even Veronique didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. The only difference she didn’t like about herself, was that her new clothes felt a little tighter than when she had bought them a few days before. The skirt pulled across her slightly bulging and bloated tummy, her breasts were fuller and tender. She shrugged and blamed water retention then she twirled slowly and smiled. She realized that too broad a grin made her recognizable, and so she practised a smaller smile, showing less teeth. She was going to have to be an actress to reinvent herself, but luckily as Dean didn’t know the true her. It wouldn’t matter if she made a few mistakes as she grew into her new identity. She exuded a subtle charm, an air of sophistication, a sexual confidence and a sense of success, something that only years of breeding and experience could produce. To test her new look, she sat in a nearby cafe and watched as people walked by, as they laughed and chatted together at nearby tables. She watched with interest as an attractive man came and sat at a table close to hers. He had attractive blonde hair, the most beautiful piercing blue eyes. Eyes that held you if he looked at you. He glanced briefly across at her and then looked down at his newspaper. It was nearing the mid afternoon and she watched through her Bulgari sunglasses as he ordered a coffee and then continued reading. He had an ease about him in the clothes he was wearing and was the most interesting person to watch. Others at surrounding tables were tourists, families, a few young couples, too into each other to see anyone else, but he had something about him. She recognized a quiet torment about him, something that told her he kept himself very much in control. His clothes were not special; a pair of light beige trousers and a crisp white shirt, a blue blazer over the back of his chair. His style was smart, casual and yet he wore it so well. It gave him the look of a male model. Whether he knew it or not, women would take two looks at him. She smiled and called the waiter over to pay her bill. It was time for her to go over to Smythe Yacht International and introduce herself.

Making her way through the small narrow streets of the village, she eventually found the address. A large house, back from the road and behind a large high wall with a tall impressive wrought iron gate. She rang the intercom and the pedestrian door, by the gate, opened. Veronique walked across the driveway, and up to the main double doors of the house where Margaret was waiting.

“Hello Ms. Harrison, do come in.” She followed her through the main entrance and through to Dean’s office, which was currently empty. “He won’t be a moment; he is expected back any minute. Do take a seat. I shall call him on his mobile and let him know you are here.”

“Thank you.” Veronique sat down and smoothed her Chanel skirt, part of an expensive suit she had bought to go with her new persona.

A few moments later the door opened and Dean strode in confidently. It was the man from the cafe. She smiled to herself.

“Priscilla? How lovely to meet you. You look familiar, do I know you?” She laughed. Momentarily caught off guard, then realizing he must have seen her at the cafe and not realized.

“I think it would be because you just sat opposite me at a local cafe. We smiled at each other for a second.”

“Oh did we?” he said absently, “that must be it.”

The meeting went well, Veronique told him some parts of her life, leaving out the main details, and skirted around several issues and completely reinvented others. He appeared to be impressed. She was very keen and made it apparent. She was determined to work for him. Besides, she had just left a job that morning and had no other job to go to. Nowhere to stay, nothing. She needed to close him and get the job.

“Mr. Montalban Smythe, I need this job. I am sure you have other candidates to consider, but none will be as qualified as me. I am prepared to work for you on a trial basis for free if that makes it easier for you to choose me. I will prove myself through my results and if you are pleased with my efforts you can back date any pay you would have paid me, from the results and monies I bring in. That way you will have no financial risk to yourself, or your company. I can start today, now if you wish.”

Dean smiled, instantly impressed with the way she took charge of the meeting and was not prepared to take no for an answer. It was exactly what he was looking for. Veronique hesitated and he held his hand up.

“Ms. Harrison. Please.” She stopped talking. “If we are to work together you must call me Dean.” Veronique smiled broadly and then remembered and lessened her smile.

“You mean?” Veronique looked at him sideways.

“Yes, Ms. Harrison, the job is yours.” She stood up suddenly and shook his hand.

“Thank you so much! You won’t regret this.” She smiled again.

“Now the formalities. You
will
be paid. You will be provided accommodation and I will sort a car for you later this week. For now I suggest you pack your things, wherever you are staying, and come over here and we shall get you settled in.”

“Here?” She was surprised.

“No. No. I shall drive you from here. You can start in a couple of days after you have settled in. I have a meeting next week, and that will give you a chance to deliver some of those fantastic results you promised.”

Veronique smiled again, her inner happiness causing her eyes to sparkle with joy. He stood up and called Margaret in.

“Margaret. Ms. Harrison will be joining us. Kindly get her apartment sorted and call to arrange the car.” He looked at Veronique. “And Ms. Harrison, if you could kindly give Margaret your details, she will set up an advance payment to make your transition here a little financially easier for you. You will need to sort out a bank account locally. I will call my bank manager to arrange it for you.”

“Oh, thank you!”

“Now go with Margaret and I shall see you in a few days.”

Veronique obediently followed Margaret out of the room and into her office.

BOOK: To Murder Matt
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