Karen Booth – Secrets Of The A-List (страница 2)

He couldn’t afford that. Not with Harrison unconscious in Malibu. Not when the Fixer’s reputation now seemed to hang in the balance because his cousin couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He’d have to cross a line he’d sworn never to step over. There was no way around it.

He unlocked the small box now sitting on the desk and removed the Glock nine-millimeter. The grip was more than comfortable in his hand. It fit perfectly. He didn’t like to brag, but he was an excellent shot. Harrison had gone through a hunting phase when Gabe was a teen. At the time, there was a big movement in the culinary world for chefs to be well connected to the food they prepared. Harrison had started by learning to butcher, but eventually moved on to hunting, taking several trips all over the country with other chefs. The killing part never really took with Harrison, but he did enjoy guns, and while Luc and Rafe often declined an invitation to go to the shooting range with their dad, Gabe always accepted.

He cherished those memories with Harrison, the times when they most felt like father and son. His real dad wasn’t much more than an anonymous sperm donor. Harrison, however, had been eager to fill that paternal role. He’d embraced Gabe and put in the time, which made the accident and the aftermath that much more difficult to deal with, almost two months later. Time had made nothing easier.

As for Vanessa, his plan was simple. She was staying in an economy room on a lower floor and near an exit, where the security cameras were cheap and obvious, and it was easy for anyone to gain access and get out quickly. Using the hotel master key he currently had in his pocket, he’d disable the cameras, and slip into her room right after the family had left for the party. He would dispatch her with a single shot delivered with a silencer. He would then ransack the room, take any valuables, and get to the party right away, where his alibi would be firmly in place. A few rounds of drinks should quickly dull any memory of what he’d done, and then he would move on.

Thus was his job as the Fixer.

Vanessa’s body likely wouldn’t be discovered until morning, when Mariella needed her. In fact, it would likely be Gabe who would be sent looking for her. He could see it now—Mariella furious that Vanessa was not answering her phone or replying to text messages. The police would quickly determine it was a random robbery, and that would be the end of that. Gabe didn’t worry about any negative publicity. If anything, it would most likely only make people feel sorry for Mariella, having to deal with the tragedy of a murdered member of her staff.

And then, Gabe could tell Rachel to go fuck herself.

Yes, he still felt horrible about this job, but he had to remind himself that whoever had sent Harrison off that cliff had upped the stakes and set a new tone. They had shown zero regard for life. Maybe that was the way business had to be done now.

* * *

“No. Absolutely not. It’s awful.” Mariella glared at her own reflection in the full-length mirror in her bedroom suite at the Grecian, where the family had six suites on the forty-fifth floor for the weekend. “It’s completely hideous. Unzip me now.”

“Yes. Of course. There are other dresses to try.” Vanessa complied with Mariella’s wishes, thinking that she couldn’t look hideous in anything if she tried. She had an enviable figure and the gown she had on was particularly gorgeous—black French lace with a plunging neckline and elegant beading on the slim-fitting skirt. The designer had sent it straight from Paris the minute he’d heard the Marshalls were hosting the Halloween masquerade ball.

“What about this one? The dark red with the sweetheart neckline?” Vanessa asked, pointing to one of the many gowns laid out on Mariella’s bed. Five had been deemed noes in this impromptu fashion show, and there were another half dozen left to be tried. Vanessa had spent hours steaming wrinkles out of them overnight and had them on the corporate jet at 6:00 a.m. as ordered. Mariella had sent most away with a single glance and a flick of her wrist.

Vanessa gently laid out the hideous gown and retrieved the one she’d suggested. “This one will look beautiful on you.”

Mariella smiled warmly at her, which was always a bit bizarre. Most of the time, especially since Harrison’s accident, Mariella was hell on wheels. The other Casa Cat staff referred to dealing with Mariella’s demeanor as their own version of Russian roulette—you never knew what you were going to get. The prospects scared the hell out of most of them.

Despite Mariella’s sometime brusque attitude, Vanessa enjoyed these moments when it was just the two of them and Mariella let down her guard. She could be a warm person when she wanted to be, and Vanessa did sympathize with Mariella’s situation. It couldn’t be easy to go on living your everyday life with your husband in a coma. Truly, any pleasant exchange between the two of them made Vanessa feel as though she might be slightly less invisible than the other members of the staff. Mariella had already asked Vanessa to call her by her first name. To the others, she was still Mrs. Santiago-Marshall. Still, most of the time Vanessa felt as though she floated through the halls of the estate like a ghost. Mariella and the other Marshalls really hadn’t taken the chance to get to know her, nor had they given any indication that they ever cared to.

Except for Luc. He was different, but that made her more nervous than anything. Their first run-in had been innocent enough—a few words in the hall when she’d bumped into him and dropped her basket of laundry on her first day. She’d laughed at one of his jokes, which made him smile, and that had apparently been enough to make him want to keep the conversation going. But when she found out who he was, she backed away. Despite finding him attractive—any woman would—there was a barrier there neither of them could cross. The problem was, she couldn’t tell him anything about it.

As time went by, he began to seek her out, try to steal a few minutes with her. He’d go looking for her in the house, in places the family rarely went, like the laundry area or the butler’s pantry. He seemed happy when he found her. He asked her questions, tried to make conversation. Vanessa had been so unnerved by it, she didn’t know what to do. She’d been wondering, quite seriously, if it was some sort of trick to get her fired for daring to fraternize with a member of the family. As he began to confide in her, they grew closer, but she also became more careful. She didn’t reveal too much about herself, keeping information vague.

Luc’s circumstances, growing up a product of privilege, couldn’t be more different, and yet, they connected. He listened. He seemed to care. Everything on the surface of Luc’s life looked perfect—important career, gorgeous girlfriend from a well-connected family, and of course, the Marshalls were no slouches when it came to providing for their children. He had succeeded in all the ways society valued, and yet he said he felt empty. His plastic surgery career was only fulfilling when he worked for Doctors Without Borders. He felt estranged from his siblings—he and Rafe were always at odds, and Elana was so scattered it was impossible to maintain a connection. Then had come the most telling detail—his relationship with Rachel was shallow. Meaningless. He’d used those exact words.

Once, while driving her to the estate after her own car broke down, he’d asked her if she had siblings. She’d replied that she was an only child and abruptly changed the subject. Revealing more details at that point would be nothing more than opening Pandora’s box. As much as she wanted to match his openness, she couldn’t afford to do it. It would leave her too exposed. So she’d deflected back to him, and that seemed to work.

She’d had no reason to suspect he considered her anything more than a friend. She was a housekeeper, for God’s sake, and he was dating a stunningly beautiful congressman’s daughter. Their lots in life could not be any more different. Perhaps the absurdity of their friendship was the reason she’d allowed it to continue. But then one day he came to the house and there was a look in his eye that stopped her dead in her tracks.

“I’m falling for you, Vanessa,” he’d said. “You’re all I think about. I make up excuses to come to the house, just so I can see you. When I get home, I replay every word between us.”

Vanessa could still remember exactly how hard her heart was hammering when he’d made his confession. “Luc. No. This isn’t right.”

“Why? Because it feels anything but wrong.” He’d reached for her then, and it was hard to keep her wits about her. He was so sincere.

“I can’t tell you why,” she’d said before stealing away upstairs to her room.

She couldn’t tell him then, and she couldn’t tell him now. She needed to tell Mariella first.

“The red dress really is quite lovely.” Mariella smoothed her hand over her hips and swiveled back and forth before the mirror.