Dangerous by Default

51. Don't ever let true love die!

The smell of toasted cedar filled the air with each contented inhale. Pechaude basked in a cloud that had begun to puff around him with every taste of his celebratory cigar, wanting to remember each note that the fermented tobacco leaves presented to his senses. This refined smoke was out of place on the dirty Tenderloin street corner in front of Dimensions, but then again, so was the well dressed French man who created it. He had an unusual reason to celebrate. From an outside perspective, the dismissal of Mina Blue from the company seemed like the last thing that Pechaude would have ever wanted. But as he gave his stamp of approval along with the other board members only 20 minutes prior, he had smiled. He barely remembered that he'd missed the Academy of letters luncheon that was thrown in his honor. Or the haunting stench of decay that had once loomed over him, permeating from the old manuscripts of his collections. None of that mattered. Pechaude's new plan for his life had bigger things in store.

Pechaude was biting down on his lit cigar when he pulled out his phone in an almost ritualistic motion. It was the same meditative practice that had become second nature to him ever since Mina had given him the investor tour. Pull out the phone with a gentle flourish, and open the photo album of her. Mina's hazel eyes stared back at him, and a rush stronger than all the tobacco in the world had always followed. This is why he had approved the dismissal. He had gained real power, power over his destiny. White Wing had made it so clear to him the night before. He had to get Mina in a vulnerable position, get her begging on her knees for his help. It would be the only way to win her love. Pechaude, not Caine, had to be the one to help her get Dimensions back. The whole ordeal would help them bond, and then what would stop her from realizing that he was the better man, the best man, for her? The image of her face only reassured him that he had set on the path towards a jubilant future with her. Mrs. Mina Pechaude. Had a lovely ring to it.

Pechaude's spell was quickly broken by the unexpected presence of John Thorne.

"Congrats on successful first meeting, Pechaude!" John grinned as he patted him on the back, almost making him drop his cigar. "We're happy to have you on the board. What do you say to a celebratory cocktail? I'll get you up to par on your newfound responsibilities as one of the directors of Dimensions, maybe even show you were you can get a better cigar than that stinker."

Pechaude sputtered, his polite acceptance of John's invitation tripped over his need to explain how much he had payed for the cigar.

"I will accept your invitation." he said as he swallowed a portion of his pride.

"Atta boy." John winked at him. "I knew I liked you when I heard you turned down a acknowledgement from the Academy of Letters for us. We'll be your new academy. As a matter of fact, I have a wonderful collection of art to show you. One that would interest you greatly."

"I am flattered, monsieur. Please indulge me."

"It consists of expensive BDSM paraphernalia, mainly. But I've arranged it in my private museum in way that I know you'll appreciate."

Pechaude blushed, but was quick compensate for his childish reaction.

"Well, I happen to have a private museum in Los Angeles, with some of the writings of the Marquis De Sade, who is of course responsible for the 'S' in BDSM. Along with quite a few rare manuscripts. I have a new gem that I haven't shown anyone, a composition by the famous American gangster Al Capone. You can be the first to see it, if you would honor me with a tour."

The screech of tires against asphalt pulled the men's attention away from their macho boasting. A red Mustang swerved on a dime and pulled up onto the corner, mere inches from where they stood, and board members leapt back to avoid getting plowed by the Mustang's front bumper. Pechaude's cigar flew to the ground in a spray of embers as John cursed at the driver. A woman wearing a dark suit stepped out of the car, a gun holstered at her side. She gingerly produced a badge from her jacket pocket. Pechaude recognized her instantly. He was about to approach her but something in the aggressiveness of her movements caused him to remain still.