Free Once Upon a Stormy Night by Zee Monodee Page A

“I’ll get in touch with Madame Evangeline.”
    Lars sat up straight. “I beg your pardon? You’re gonna get me an escort? Thanks, but I’m not that desperate.”
    Magnus slammed the beer bottle on the table. “Will you just shut up and listen? Madame Eve does not run an escort company. She owns an exclusive online dating service called 1Night Stand. When you sign up, she makes sure you’re hooked with someone perfect for you, for one night. I’m telling ya, the woman does magic. I know people who’ve met up through her, and now they’re getting married.”
    “Excuse me, but I’m not looking to get married,” Lars said.
    “I’ll get in touch with her for you. You’ll thank me for it!”
    “No, mate. Listen—”
    The screen went blank. Magnus had cut the call.
    Lars sighed as he stood. What would that idiot get him into? His antics had kept him from talking to Stellan about this week’s incoming cargo and the specifics of the trade route. He paced the office, and then stopped by the window to gaze at the cosmopolitan skyline of Port Louis.
    His cell phone rang. The screen displayed a long number with the international + and 44 England code. Stellan—they still needed to iron out some details. “About Tuesday’s cargo—”
    “You’re all set,” Magnus blared into his ear.
    Bloody hell, no . “What are you talking about?”
    “I’ve contacted 1Night Stand and placed a request for you. Madame Evangeline might even be able to find a woman for you to meet on the island. Can you believe that?”
    He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
    “Listen, mate,” Magnus said, suddenly serious, voice sober and not slurring. “If it works, it works. One night, no obligations, no ties, no expectations beyond the morning. What have you got to lose?”
    “You know it doesn’t work that way.”
    “At 1Night Stand, it does. Trust me.”
    Lars sighed. “We’ll talk about this later. Can you put Stellan on the line?”
    There were sounds of shuffling.
    “That idiot is glowing like the cat that got the canary, damn it.”
    He could picture Stellan shaking his head. “Listen, about Tuesday’s load. Custom’s being a bitch to clear it.”
    “Don’t worry about that. I’m on the ball with the authorities,” Stellan said. “What time is it there? Five o’clock?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, pack up and go home. Take a weekend off for once. There’s nothing you can do from there right now, and I’ll look into this.”
    “Okay, mate. Look after Magnus, will ya?” They treated the first class pain in the arse as a younger brother, despite their similarity in age.
    “Will do.”
    Lars cut the call and slid the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket. As he grabbed the garment, he glanced around. The company had done an excellent job with the offices. Only the finest, as usual. Acquiring the entire fifth floor of the Barkly Wharf building, right on Caudan Waterfront, left no doubt of their intent to make a success of their presence in this customs-free zone for re-exportable goods in the African and Indian Ocean region. Still, it was a relief to get outside, away from the stuffy leather and magnificent wood furniture, the impeccable courtesy of the employees, and breathe.
    On the ground floor, he pushed his way through the crowds bustling inside the commercial shopping area and with a few steps was out in the roasting tropical sun, the soles of his shoes no longer gliding on the smooth marble, but clip-clopping on cobblestones of the quaint alleyways. On his way to the uncrowded open-air esplanade, he sidestepped the water fountain with the horrible blue-green sculpture. Within a few minutes, he reached the guardrails on the edge of the former landing docks area, the murky, green waters of the harbor lapping gently at the concrete edge.
    Lovey-dovey young couples strolled on the promenade along the classy, tall-windowed façade of the Labourdonnais Waterfront business hotel, and children ran