Double-Crossed (5 page)

Peter looked uncomfortable and opened his mouth to say something, but Jen beat him to it.

“I'll go with her. I'm about finished my shift, and the other staff are here. I'll make sure she makes it to the restaurant in one piece.”

Peter looked at her, his face relieved, and Marianne agreed, touched at Peter's interest in her safety, but mostly glad for a chance to quiz Jen about her behavior. She turned to Peter. “I would have turned up without Jen's escort, you know, but a little more girly time sounds fine.”

Peter smiled, adding warmly, “Then it's set. Just give me your cell so that I can contact you if you seem to have changed your mind.”

“No problem.” She handed over her number as Jen gave instructions to the young man ready to take her place at the counter. The two women waved good-bye as they walked directly out of the store into the Kings Cross night.

Outside the front door, Marianne's phone rang, and answering a number she didn't recognize, she heard Peter's voice say, “Just checking.”

Marianne turned to see Peter, cell phone at his ear, a grin as wide as Luna Park. Marianne pivoted back toward Jen, who, out of sight of the front of the shop, gave an exaggerated thumbs-up movement. Marianne raced to catch up with her.

“What is going on with you tonight?” she mock-demanded of her friend.

“Love, I want the best for you, and, baby, did you see those eyes? He's gotta be as close to perfection as anyone is going to get. And he wants you. And he's familiar. He says he hasn't been around here before, but I know him from somewhere, I'm sure.”

“Really? Do you know if he's married?”

Both women started laughing. They shuffled past The Crest Hotel, through the crowds of partiers, jostling to keep up with each other against the natural flow of people in the other direction, trying to maintain the intimacy of their conversation.

Marianne continued, “He did seem sort of keen, I'll admit it. But he's Joe's lawyer. That makes things really complicated.”

“He may not be Joe's lawyer forever. These things can change, you know.”

They crossed at the lights, under the giant Coca-Cola neon sign that was heritage listed now. It beamed down on them like a monument to the continuity of life. Marianne took a glimpse as she hurried past, paying an unconscious homage as everyone did who shuffled by the iconic advertisement.

“I'm not so sure that the past is that easy to escape,” she said, half to herself.

“I'll tell you what was interesting,” said Jen, changing the subject. “He didn't want you walking the streets alone tonight. I came along to get a chance to encourage you, but I had a feeling this date wasn't going to happen tonight if you insisted on walking alone.”

“He's being blokey. Guys like to play the protector. They think it'll get them laid.”

“No, I think there's more to this.” Jen shrugged off the joke as they neared Marianne's apartment building. “I think he's genuinely concerned for you. And that makes me happy, if also a little confused.”

They stopped outside of the apartment, and Jen turned to face her friend.

“And whether you think it or not, a little TLC is due to come your way, honey. I think you'll be cool from here on, and the Bayz is just across the street a way.” She leaned in to give Marianne a kiss as she moved toward the door. “And I want a visit tomorrow to the shop, and I want details.”

And Jen jostled off in the direction of The Pleasure Chest again.

Conscious of the time, Marianne dashed for her apartment, willing the doors to close and open faster than normal on the elevator. She raced for her door, fumbling with her keys in the lock, determined to get in and out of the apartment within twenty minutes. Momentarily, she paused in her hustling. The distinct feeling that someone's eyes measured her up and watched her had her pause and listen for some kind of tell tale noise.

Marianne stopped to look behind her, the faintest feeling of crawling on her skin. Gazing up and down the empty corridor, she glanced at the peepholes on the doors of the apartments around her, wondering for a moment if someone did watch her.

You're paranoid because he's worried about you. This is the problem with male protection. It robs you of your independence immediately
.

The keys turned comfortably in the lock, and Marianne stepped into her apartment.

Exactly three minutes later, drips running off her warm body, Marianne padded from the bathroom to her bedroom. She knew precisely what to wear. A beautiful black Collette Dinnigan thin-strapped dress that Joe bought for her after she'd caught him in her bed with another woman. It looked spectacular on, and she had black strappy sandals to go with it.
Finally! I have an occasion that is worth this outfit
. Marianne had several caught-cheating outfits, and although it had been painful for her ego at the time, now she felt glad that she had clothes for these kinds of moments.

Marianne dried her long blonde hair straight, then carefully applied minimum eye makeup and some subtle lipstick. She popped on the shoes, glad she'd done her manicure and pedicure the night before. She gave herself the once-over in the long mirror. The dress hung seductively low, the shadow of a satin sheath hugging her body with a shift of lace over the top. The effect, as with all Collette Dinnigan dresses, was startlingly beautiful. In addition, this one fit perfectly. Although modest, Marianne knew she wasn't going to fail any date in a dress like this.

She grabbed a small purse in deep maroon velvet and threw some money, a credit card, her driver's license, the lipstick she wore, and her cell into it. Confidently walking out the front door, she noticed the clock's reprimand, the last thing to catch her eye reminding her she had not a second to spare

It wasn't until almost at The Bayswater Brasserie that Marianne realized she'd made a terrible mistake. This wasn't a date! She'd allowed Jen's analysis of the situation to be accurate. Peter asked her to sit and talk.
He is Joe's lawye
r
! Marianne's stomach churned, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Oh, my God! I've gone and prettied up as if he asked me out. And he only introduced himself because he's Joe's lawyer,” she said aloud, feeling suddenly foolish.

Standing outside the Bayswater, she also realized he must have been following her or something.
What
was
he doing in that shop?

With growing discomfort, Marianne saw herself from his perspective.

He followed me to a sex shop, where I buy tokens and go out the back to the private booths. Then he sees me buy a sexy dress when he knows I'm single, and finally, when he asks for a moment of my time to talk about the case, I misunderstand and get dressed up like I'm going on a date.

Oh, my God, he is going to think I am the biggest loser on the planet. A woman so hungry for sex she turns meeting with a lawyer into a date
.

Going home and getting changed into something subtler wasn't an option. Somehow she had to make this work.

Think, Marianne. Think
.

She decided she'd have to tell him straightaway that they'd have to be fast because she had a date later. Relief flooded her when she realized how sound the lie would be. As for being carried away like that… Well, that one she would have to sort out back at home later.

While the confidence stayed with her, Marianne opened the door and stepped into the side entrance corridor of The Bayswater Brasserie. She walked past the restaurant, when a glance told her Peter wasn't in there, and moved toward the sophisticated bar at the back. Marianne, despite her earlier discomfort, took pleasure in the approving looks men in the room gave her and the glint in the eye of the waiter when he asked if he could help her. It felt good to be beautiful, even if it would all go to waste tonight.

The waiter walked ahead of her, past the crowded bar, guiding her through the small atrium to a table in the corner, dimly lit by an elegant candle. Peter glanced up as they drew near, and Marianne noticed him catch his breath. He stared at her, his eyes the darkest blue. Marianne felt the intent focus invade her, directing her. The way he looked at her made her want to live up to everything and anything that he saw. The waiter announced her to Peter, then pulled a chair out from the table for Marianne. He tucked it in nicely as she sat and left them alone.

“You look amazing,” Peter gushed as soon as the waiter was out of earshot. He watched her in earnest. Again Marianne noticed how held by his gaze she felt. Peter concentrated on her, penetrating her. The stare was a safety net wrapped about her soul.

“I…I…have a date,” Marianne stammered as she looked down. She couldn't tell this lie and look into those eyes. Somehow, it wasn't possible to tell any lie while looking into such pools of perception.

Peter moved his hand forward and gently touched her chin so that she lifted her eyes and stared back at him.

“Not tonight. Not dressed like this. Tonight you are with me. Do you understand?”

Just a gentle flow of words, mere sentences strung together, but they had all the intensity and directness of a command. Marianne nodded, struck by the strength of it.

What is happening? I'm losing it
.

Any fear that she had before she entered the room had flown out the window, and she felt a growing excitement in every cell of her body.

Peter smiled. “Let's break the intensity for a minute and give you a chance to breathe. I do have to talk a little business. But we should start with oysters, which I took the liberty of ordering for us.”

His smile relaxed the tension between them, and Marianne felt in control of herself again.

“I have to ask you, Peter, what were you doing in that shop tonight? You have a little to fill me in on.”

Peter's expression changed to a serious look of concern. “Marianne, I don't want to frighten you, but Don stood outside that shop, and I believe he waited for you. I wanted to make my presence felt to scare him away.”

Marianne furrowed her brow. “But Joe's getting what he wants from me. Why is Don after me?”

“I believe with intent to hurt you. I think he wants to hurt you seriously. I spoke with Joe regarding your involvement in the case, and Joe implied you weren't going to be any trouble. That sentence aroused my suspicions, and I turned to see Don had left the room. I followed him to where you were.”

“So you were in the room when I was with Joe? Was it you behind the glass?”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes.”

Marianne's head spun, trying to come to grips with all he told her.

“Joe wouldn't want me badly hurt. Maybe Don wanted to scare me a little tonight. Make sure I knew how serious this all is.”

“Marianne, I know you agreed to support Joe in this case, but there may be limits to what you have control over legally. They could subpoena you, and then you have to testify with no choice in the matter.” Peter paused and looked into her eyes. Even with the gravity of the conversation, Marianne felt her vagina respond, beginning to clench and moisten. “Unless, of course, you were married to Joe, or…”

“Or what?”

“Dead.”

A cold, steely hand closed around Marianne's heart. She shivered.

“Joe wouldn't do that to me,” she said quietly.

The oysters arrived and with them, two glasses of 2004 Fermoy Estate Semillon. Marianne knew her wines because Joe knew his drink. Peter's choice of this rare Margaret River wine impressed her. However, appreciating the excellent food and wine before them proved to be difficult given the current conversation.

The waiter arranged their plates and the appropriate utensils, then left them in peace again. When they were alone, Peter responded.

“What makes you so sure? Where does your confidence in him come from?”

“We have a history. It's a long history. I want out of Joe's life, but I'm about the closest thing to family he has.”

“I believe you need to be careful anyway. Joe is in a lot of trouble.” Here Peter paused for effect. “I know about your history.”

Marianne looked up at him.

“He told me. You are an asset when you stay with him, but away from him, you become a liability. Don't think that you can rely on the old connections you once had with him.”

This stunned Marianne. Joe had always been a cause of anguish in her life, but only emotionally. He'd protected her physically. Right from the start, as a little girl, Joe took care of her, in his way. The thought of him doing serious damage to her made no sense. She looked up at Peter as he continued.

“The hearing starts on Thursday. Now that you have surfaced, you'll be part of the circus. I want you briefed by my team. If the hearing goes to trial, I have to put you in as evidence for the defense, or the prosecution will want to put you up there. If I put you up, they'll cross-examine you, but the good part is you'll have as little to do with them before hand as I can arrange. But I'm hoping it'll never come to that. My primary argument is Joe's ignorance, and you're crucial to that. Because neither of you saw an accountant, nor did you have your certification at this particular time, I may be able to get away with it.”

“What is the case for the prosecution?”

“Tax evasion between 2000 and 2001. Mostly Goods and Services Tax. You guys weren't collecting it, you should have been, and neither you nor Joe went back and recorded it later. It's hardly an offense at all, except they're trying to tie Joe in to all sorts of illegal activities. Joe has pushed it to court because we want to avoid a proper audit. If we win this case, there will be a Business Activity Statement audit, and that'll be all. Joe will have to pay the missing GST and perhaps a fine. However, they don't want Joe to get just a BAS audit. They want him to have a full and proper audit based on an opinion that he is behaving illegally. It's the old Al Capone thing. They're trying to use tax to get to other parts of the business. Joe could go to jail for a very long time.”

Marianne knew the accuracy of this statement. Joe had behaved illegally all his life, and she'd borne witness to it. However, she knew she didn't want to be the one to put him in jail. She didn't want to be a part of his life, but she had no desire to see him destroyed.