Chapter 11 – Risk & Rewards

Emerson woke through the hazy mist of a late night, to the bright sun streaming through a crystalline window.  He threw his arm over his eyes, cursing himself for indulging in….

Like electricity through his body his eyes shot wide, as he realized the mattress beneath his sore muscles was not his own.  Locked in a momentary freeze, fearful what he knew he’d find. He slowly turned his gaze towards the right side of the bed. As expected, but cursing himself none the less, he found the amorphous lump of blankets he knew would be there, Duncan.

He sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes, while trying his best not to make a sound. The wine would get him every time, though it had a little help this time it appeared. What to do.  What to do…this could be a problem. Duncan was closely tied to Avery. Should she discover Emerson’s person were in the city, it could prove precarious.

He could kill him…it would be easy after all, there was some piano wire in his jacket pocket. It would be as simple as….    

“Such an intense look for so early in the morning.  We’ve not even had breakfast yet.”

Emerson started, his train of thought disrupted.  Turning he found Duncan on his side, facing him, staring at him sleepilly, yet smiling all the same.  “What’s on your mind?”

His hand reached out to stroke Emerson’s arm affectionately.

Emerson’s caught it mid-swing, pulling to his lips, before holding it away from him, studying the details of the man’s hand. Buying himself time to think.

 It would appear killing him was out of the question. Unless he made it look like an accident in the shower, but then…no. He shook his head slightly, clearing it and tossing the idea aside.

Looking back up from the hand he turned his head towards Duncan, making a decision.  “Just that, breakfast. How do I make breakfast for a man who has so graciously lent me the use of his home for the evening, when I don’t even know where he keeps the pans?  It seems to have been left off of last night’s tour. Though I remember plenty of time spent in that kitchen, not a single cabinet was ever opened.” Emerson feigned exasperation.

All traces of sleep gone, Duncan’s smile had turned to a grin, while a devilishness danced behind his eyes.  “I don’t believe you for an instant, but I will play along all the same, because I’m hungry and seeing you cook for me would be more than payment for last night.”  He leaned over and kissed Emerson before crawling out of bed.  

Throwing on a robe. He turned back towards the man in his bed as he approached the door, star-struck by the silhouette  traced beneath the thin white sheet. Not for the first time, he found himself at a seeming loss for words, before gathering himself quickly.  “Take your time getting up. The coffee will be a minute anyways. I’ll get the bacon started, and you can make the eggs. I want them poached.” He smiled.  With one last hungry glance back, he opened the door and left the room. Closing it behind him.    

 Emerson had come to a resting position on his arm as Duncan had gotten up from bed, so as to watch the man leave.  Soon as the door was shut however he’d collapsed back into bed. Once again using his arm to block the sun from his tired eyes. 

Another lose thread to deal with he chided himself.  This one, however, could work very promisingly in his favor.  As it turned out having someone so closely tied to Avery, worked both ways.  Yes, Duncan might divulge his nightly encounter to his employer, but the greater chances were he would not.  On the other hand someone so close to the woman, as Duncan was, would have intimate knowledge of both her schedule & whereabouts.  Something that would prove invaluable moving forward.  

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He ran his hand through his hair, a failed attempt at bringing order to the chaos. Continuing on this path his hand reached out above, turning into a long stretch, waking up his aching muscles.  How good that all felt.

Unable to delay it any longer.  He pushed himself out of bed and towards the door. Pausing at the door, he took a steady breath before opening it. He walked into the kitchen, where he found Duncan pouring the first of two mugs of coffee. Walking up behind the man, he wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his neck. 

“You liked your eggs poached you say?” Duncan grinned.

Henry’s phone rang where it laid on his desk. It didn’t make it to the second ring, before he pulled it to his ear.  “Yes” He inquired gruffly.

Emerson’s voice came through the phone. “I believe you and I need to talk, Mr. Aquitaine.”.

The portly old man sat straight up in his chair, his full attention now on the conversation. 

“Yes I believe we do.”  He paused for a moment as he thought.  “Lunch? The Golden Fitch?”

“An excellent choice.  See you then.” Emerson disconnected the call without another word.

Mr. Aquitane glared at the phone, perturbed by the abruptness of the call. Placing the phone back on the desk.  He called out to his secretary.

Ms. Cavanaugh popped her head around the door. “Yes Mr. Aquitaine?”

Rubbing his greying temples.  He closed his eyes as he spoke.  “Would you please inform Mr. Ramon.  That I’ll be having lunch at his restaurant before our meeting this afternoon and I will need a private room for it.”

“I’ll see to it now.”  She left the man massaging his temples.  

At least today he would get to each lunch for a change.