THE BRAVO BOYS - SNAKE EATER [book three]

Chapter FORTY TWO

Shelby Quinn

In her expensive ecru cashmere sweater and clean white pearls, Iris smiles fondly as she draws open the door to her immaculate penthouse apartment.. Inviting me inside with a flourish and a poised air of aristocracy, she steps aside.. "Shelby, darling! I'm so glad you made it, come in.."

My combat boots make a strange squeaking sound as I set foot onto the reflective surface of her exotic hardwood floor.. I wince apologetically at what feels like an insult upon the neat museum-like quality of her home.. "Sorry, mam'.."

"No matter, no matter.." She sniffs, waving a hand in her typically unaffected manner before directing me through the luxury entryway and into her lavish kitchen.. "Coffee? Tea?... Something stronger? Whiskey, perhaps?"

"No, thank you.." Standing uncomfortably in her exquisite ivory palace, I feel out of place and unbelievably dishevelled by comparison in my ripped jeans and leather jacket combination.. Suddenly, it strikes me as strange that this is actually the first time I have ever been inside the Spymaster's apartment.. For so long as I have known the woman, I have rarely been afforded such a glimpse into her personal life..

It's almost unsettling how well she keeps her secrets..

"You know, I would have met you at the office-" I glance around, trying not to analyse the woman based on the sterile minimalist decor of her home.. She likely spends very little time in this place anyway, leaving its ambiance vacant and unlived in.. That, or this place is just some carefully staged safehouse, designed to convince others that she actually lives here..

The latter would hardly surprise me..

"Nonsense.." Iris sets two small espresso cups into a fancy black and silver machine, ignoring my decline of her offer before twisting a dial and pressing a button.. The contraption hums to life, buzzing softly as it prepares what I am sure will be artisan organic grounds of some sort.. "Let's speak frankly now, Shelby, you and I both know that this isn't a professional meeting.. It's personal.. So why don't you let me have it.."

My temper, while internally white hot, remains externally tempered by my ingrained respect for authority.. She is, after all, still my boss.. "With all due respect mam'--"

Iris clicks her tongue to make a tired sound.. "Tsk, drop the 'mam' bullshit- Shelby.. I know you must be terribly upset with me.."

I inhale a deep breath, fighting to frame my words and make my frustration clear without overstepping or saying something stupid.. "Iris.. We've known each other for a long time now, haven't we?"

"Fortunately, my dear.." She smiles patiently..

"Right.. And in that time, I always thought of you as somebody I could trust.. A Friend.."

She nods, still listening intently.. "I would hope so.."

"But how can that be true-?" I shake my head as my voice wavers with uncertainty.. "When your word to my father means more to you than I do?"

"Oh, on the contrary, my dear.." Iris leans across to collect my hand, giving it a firm squeeze between her own.. "You mean a great deal more to me than I can say.."

"So then, how could you do this?" I withdraw from her reach.. "How could you lie to me?"

"A lie is only a betrayal when a more beautiful truth exists.. Until then, it is simply a kindness.. Much like the stories we tell our children to keep them safe.." Her eyes soften with sympathy as a slow, sigh of resignation expells from her chest.. "Besides, what good has the truth done for you lately, Shelby, except cause you pain? It's a burden that you should have never had to bear.."