Free Night Monsters by Lee Allen Howard Page B

taken off his tie.
    My kinda guy , Wyatt thought. “Yes. I apologize again.”
    “No need. I enjoyed the break myself.” Levesque sat down.
    Wyatt waved the waiter over. He ordered drinks and they got down to business.
    Ex Libris was looking for an Internet commerce firm to build a business-to-consumer Web site to sell limited edition books, CDs, and digital media. Wyatt rambled through his spiel as if the Symplex solution was designed expressly for Levesque and Ex Libris.
    As Wyatt sipped his Tanqueray and tonic, an approaching figure caught his eye.
    Natalie was slinking through the lobby in a black suede miniskirt, red blouse, and beaver stole. Her lissome thighs flexed beneath black hose and, with each long stride, she thrust a patent leather stiletto into the carpet.
    Levesque swiveled his chair to see what Wyatt was gaping at.
    Tugging off her black leather gloves, Natalie headed straight for their table.
    Wyatt no longer cared whether he won Ex Libris’ business; he had talked with Levesque long enough. It was time for pleasure.
    Wyatt smiled, but it felt more like leering. He caught Natalie’s eye and, as she swept her gaze to Levesque, he noticed panic in her eyes. Levesque took her white hand, and her features softened.
    Turning to Wyatt, Levesque smiled and said, “Mr. Bell, I’d like you meet Natalie Trattoriano . . . my beautiful wife.”
    Natalie extended her hand demurely. After hesitating a moment, Wyatt took it. Her fingers were like icicles.
    “And please,” Levesque said, “call me Vincien.”
    “Or Vince,” Natalie added.
    They all sat down. Wyatt remained speechless, staring into Natalie’s impenetrable black eyes as Vincien Levesque ordered another round of drinks.
    “I hope you don’t mind Natalie dropping by,” Vincien said. He gazed at her affectionately, and she caressed his handsome face.
    “No, not at all,” Wyatt said and choked on his own spit.
    “Mr. Bell is with Symplex Systems, darling. They’re going to build us an Internet ordering system.”
    Natalie looked insincerely impressed.
    “Is there someone you can call?” Vincien asked him. “To join us for drinks, I mean.”
    Wyatt’s heart ticked like a stopwatch. “Ah, no, unfortunately, there isn’t.”
    Vincien appeared genuinely pained. “I’m sorry to hear that. You’re welcome to stay and chat with us. We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, darling?” Vincien slipped his arm around her.
    Natalie pursed her lips sweetly.
    “It’s just as well,” Wyatt said, collecting his literature. “I need to get right on this to come up with the best solution for Sex Libris.”
    “Sex?” Natalie said, arching her eyebrows.
    “What!” Wyatt said.
    “Sex,” Vincien said. “You said ‘ Sex Libris.’”
    Wyatt felt burning shame creep up his neck and flood his face. “Did I?” He struggled into his jacket.
    “You most certainly did,” Natalie said, smirking.
    “Slip of the tongue,” he rasped, averting his eyes.
    “Why, Mr. Bell, you are preoccupied.” Vincien grinned like an alligator, stretching out his hand.
    He didn’t want to, but Wyatt shook it, braying his good-byes.
    “Call me when your proposal’s ready,” Vincien said.
    Wyatt nodded and hurried out of Brochere’s.
    •     •     •
     “He’s not what you think.” Natalie was pleading in that tone she always used.
    “Here we go again.” Wyatt sprang out of bed and began dressing. After meeting Vincien that night two months ago, Wyatt thought Natalie would never mention him again. At least not in bed.
    Wyatt was amazed she’d called him afterward—other than to say so long. She shrugged it off, saying Vince was clever that way and, yes, he probably knew, but she didn’t think it bothered him. She said Vince genuinely liked Wyatt and hoped Ex Libris’ business with Symplex would succeed.
    Wyatt found it hard to believe a man as powerful and sophisticated as Vincien Levesque would knowingly be cuckolded, allowing his