Working Stiff(66)

Arthur laughed again. He pushed off her chair and went back to his supper. “Did your security men help you dig the wells?” he asked, forking more chicken into his mouth.

Maxence flicked his hand in the air, a dismissal. “I leave my security detail in hotels in the capitals of the countries where I go on missions, and soon, I can dismiss them entirely.”

Cash’s expression turned serious. “That’s not a good idea.”

“No one cares about me,” Maxence said, staring at his wine.

“Of course, people care about you,” Cash said.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that no one would bother killing me. Why don’t you have security if it’s so important?”

He grinned. “Because my family problems are over.”

Maxence raised his eyebrows. “I guess they are.”

Arthur dabbed his lips with his napkin and pushed his half-full plate away about an inch. “God, I’m stuffed. You still do have excellent taste in restaurants, Casimir. Where are we going tomorrow?”

“Hadn’t decided,” Cash said.

Arthur stood and traded his half-full plate across the table for Maxence’s empty one. “Do me a solid, there, would you? My grandmother used to expound about the war whenever I left food on my plate. It still disturbs me to see uneaten food.”

“You used to do this all the time at school,” Maxence said, digging into the leftover chicken, potatoes, and vegetables. “You would take twice the food you needed and then admonish others to clean it up for you.”

“I’ve been a wastrel my whole life,” Arthur agreed, but his sharp eyes watched how Maxence hungrily tucked in the food. Rox glanced back to him, but Arthur only asked, “Are you going to miss your brother’s wedding like you did his engagement party?”

Maxence raised one eyebrow. “No one noticed my absence, I’m sure. Once Pierre and Flicka have children in a few years, no one will notice me at all, ever again, and I will be much relieved.”

“Then you can golf all you want, huh, Max?” Arthur asked him, raising his glass of wine to him.

Maxence turned to Rox. “They’re teasing me because I intend to take Holy Orders and become a priest, a Jesuit, and spend my life working for peace and justice.”

“I think that’s beautiful,” Rox said.

Arthur and Cash cracked up, their male laughter ringing on the dark timbers and iron chandelier above the table.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Maxence said.

“All right,” Cash said, turning to Rox. “You know how I might have a bit of reputation around the office.”

Rox rolled her eyes. “Maybe a little.”

“Does he really?” Arthur said, leaning in. “Pray tell, Rox. What has our Casimir become?”

“He’s a heartbreaker who’s been through every woman in the office and most of our clients.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “So you became a manwhore like the rest of us, did you?”

“Good God. Look who’s talking,” Cash admonished him.

“Me? I’m as pure as new-fallen snow at Gstaad.” Arthur turned back to Rox, his silvery eyes sparkling. “But Maxence’s past is tawdry. I can find all sorts of references on the society pages.”

“They still have those?” Rox asked.

Arthur huffed, pretending to be offended. “What else would they have to write about?”

“Politics. Science. Sports. Who are you guys such that you should be written about in the papers? I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize any of you. Cash here is an entertainment lawyer, and our clients get talked about, but they don’t talk about us at all.”

Arthur leaned over the table to look past her to Cash, a huge grin spreading over his face. “Really?”

Cash growled at him, “I’m a lawyer. And that’s all.”

“You haven’t mentioned anything about the places with high ceilings?”

“There’s no reason to.”

“For three years?”

Cash enunciated very clearly, “No reason to.”

Arthur sat back in his chair, his eyes wide with amusement, and Rox was totally going to cross-examine Cash about all that later.

“Of course, you’re just a common working stiff, just like the rest of us,” Arthur glanced at Rox. “And with this little biscuit puttering around your office all day, I’ll bet you were—”

Cash rose in his chair. “Arthur, do you mind!”

Maxence’s dark eyebrows were raised high, but he looked away, toward the deck and the sunlit ocean beyond.

“Anyway,” Arthur said, stretching his long arms above his head. “Where shall we go tonight? Is there a nightclub around here? A theater? A concert?”