The door was yanked open and Mara stormed in. Trent came in after her, an angry frown on his face.
“Well that was pointless. All these years you’ve been married to this guy and you don’t have total access to his finances. Where’s all that charm you claim to naturally possess,” he mocked as he followed her into the kitchen.
Mara pulled out a chair and sat with a huff, “I told you killing him was a bad idea,” she muttered.
“Yeah well I didn’t think you were so useless.”
Mara shot him an angry look. Trent went over to the cupboards and returned to the table with a glass and a bottle of Cognac.
“Well you’ve got enough in bonds and cash from the safe upstairs, not to mention the fact that most of the money from our joint account are gone. I’d say it hasn’t been a complete flop, wouldn’t you?”
Trent looked up at her through his usually suspicious eyes, then took his time in filling his glass with the brandy. Mara watched as it tumbled over the ice cubes at the bottom of the glass, the rich bronze liquid rising to the rim. It reminded her of the first time she’d met Brad, he was sitting at the bar during a fund raiser sipping a tumbler of brandy, after every sip he would look down at it thoughtfully as he twirled it in his glass. She hadn’t meant to be caught staring, but other than being quite handsome, she thought him to emit a level of class and style quite uncommon to the men she had been used to.
He looked over at her and gave her an alluring smile. She smiled back despite herself and looked away; she did not come here to flirt with accomplished business men.
She was still looking at the bald, grey bearded man across the room, laughing so hard his rotund belly jiggled underneath his double breasted suit. Mara took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do. Preston Rich was just what his name implied, he was one of the wealthiest men in the room right now, and her mission was to get close to him.
She looked over at the dark haired bartender, who kept glancing over at her, his green eyes piercing and threatening. It was her first job with Trent, she’d never done anything like this before, but he always said that her looks and natural charm could get her anything she wanted. Right now Preston Rich was what she needed, to get rid of the mountain of debt she had waiting for her, at least that was what Trent said.
She was about to make her move, when the handsome man at the bar appeared beside her, he was still holding his glass of brandy.
“Who is the idiot who left you standing here all by yourself?” he asked.
“Oh no, I’m alone,” she replied, biting her tongue the minute the words were out of her mouth.
It occurred to her that attracting another man’s attention might jeopardize the entire plan.
“Well in that case can I offer to buy you a drink?”
“Uh…I uh… I don’t know if that’s…” she stuttered, looking over at the bar where Trent seemed to be too busy to notice.
“It is only a drink,” he persisted.
Mara looked over at him for the first time since he’d approached her, he was even more attractive up close, and he had the most charming smile she’d ever seen and an accent she couldn’t quite place.
“Maybe just one then.”
He led her back to the bar, and he ordered for her, looking over at her so he could charm her with another alluring boyish grin.
“I’m Brad by the way. Brad Mason,” he said offering a hand.
Mara took his offered hand, his slender brown fingers wrapped around her small porcelain hand, it was warm and she could feel the strength behind it. She knew who he was; she’d seen his name crossed off on Trent’s list just the night before.
“I’m Mara.”
Mara made a decision that day that had changed her life, and saved it in more ways than one. She was so taken with Brad that night that she had completely forgotten what she was supposed to do. Preston Rich slipped out the back with his body guards and some other girl on his arm, and Mara was sitting at the bar with Brad Mason enjoying every bit of his attentions.
Trent was stark mad at her, he kept staring daggers at her from across the room for the rest of the night and she knew that it wouldn’t be long before he would’ve approached and embarrassed her, he was her boss after all, and she needed to survive. But it didn’t take much to make her change her mind, all Brad had to do was offer her a ride home and a chance to see him again.
Trent was looking at her now over the rim of the glass, his green eyes piercing, “you sound as if the mission’s over,” he said.
Mara frowned, shaking herself from her reverie, “well isn’t it?”
“Mara, Mara” he shook his head in disappointment, “you really have gotten soft on me, but we’re not backing out now; remember you owe me.”
Mara shot to her feet, “dammit Trent, it’s over why can’t you accept that!”
He looked at her coolly, but there was a slight unnerving twitch at the corner of his lips, he was always like that when he was fighting to maintain his temper.
“Brad’s dead, there’s nothing we can do,” Mara said.
Trent put down the empty glass next to the bottle of Cognac, his movements slow and deliberate. When he looked up at her his eyes were accusing.
“A little birdie told me your darling husband isn’t dead at all, in fact he’s on this little island getting a tan and putting his feet up.”
He was very attentive to her facial expressions, so he noticed the momentary look of panic in her eyes, he noticed the slight quiver of her lips and the tremor in her breathing.
“Really?” her voice sounded like it was being forced out of a broken bag pipe.
“Yes really,” he replied as he got up and made his way toward her.
Mara straightened up and backed away until the small of her back was pressed against the counter. Trent was close to her now; she could smell the stale cigarette smoke, alcohol and a hint of Brad’s favourite cologne.
He lifted his index finger and traced it along her jaw, “you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”
Mara swallowed hard and avoided his gaze, trying to gather her wits together. She had known all along that Brad was safe, she had just hoped that Trent didn’t.
She lifted her chin defiantly, “I’m not afraid of you Trent, you can’t intimidate me.”
Trent shrugged, “I’m not trying to Mara, I just want to know if I can trust you. Why didn’t you tell me Mara?” He demanded, the exaggerated coolness seeping from his posture and face, leaving him tense and hard like a carved stone statue.”
“You’ve never trusted me, you’ve never trusted anyone.”
“If you hadn’t bailed on me all those years ago we wouldn’t be here right now. Hell we could’ve been in Maui sipping punch and tanning on the beach, but a man happens to look at you the right way and you forsake the mission.”
He got up and leaned toward her, his hands pressed flat against the table top.
“I spent five years in the pen Mara, while you were out here living it up.”
Mara glared at him, “of course Trent, you would’ve preferred to have me in there with you. That’s why I bailed on you, ‘cause you’re a selfish bastard, you don’t care about anyone but yourself!”
Trent reached across the table and grabbed her by the throat and in that same instant pulled her around the other side toward him. He barred his teeth at her like a wolf; he was almost frothing at the mouth.
He clamped both hands around her neck and squeezed tightly, his eyes wide, his nostrils flaring. Mara pulled at his hands helplessly, her cheeks puffed out and red, her eyes bulging with strain and panic.
“You owe me five years Mara” he hissed, “you owe me… so much.”
Just then the door bell rang. Mara looked pale and drawn, she’d sunk to her knees and Trent was still holding onto her, blindly squeezing the life out of her.
Gradually he released his grip, his eyes growing less intense, until he
let her go completely and she slumped to the floor with a gasp, followed by raspy coughing, her hands lifted to her throat. She looked up at him in disbelief and fear.
“Put a scarf around your neck and get the door,” he said then turned away from her with a disgusted grunt.
Mara staggered to her feet and started for the door.
“Don’t forget what we practiced,” he muttered.