Acquisitions

[Colette Moreau]

Adrian and 
Colette

Adrian had already returned to studying the wallet screen hovering in front of him. He was reading a contract, pausing long enough to make his amendments throughout the details. It was a lease agreement on which he’d gone back and forth for months to finalize. He looked up when the girl continued to speak.

She was clearly American. The accent gave her away more than anything else. She dripped with it.

Amused, he looked her over, respectfully, of course. She didn’t look at all like the woman in his mind, excluding perhaps the hair. He answered truthfully, “Natalie Northbrook,” he replied.

*****

Colette was worried for a minute that he may not actually respond. He seemed wrapped up in something, and Colette knew that look. She grew up around it.

She smiled when he revealed her doppelgänger. Colette knew exactly who Natalie Northbrook was. She was one of the first people that Evelyn insisted that she meet as soon as she arrived. Second, Colette would recognize the name of a Custody Patron. It was practically the kind of question seen on a high school world government exam.


“Natalie Northbrook, you say?” She smiled coyly, still clearly sensing his distance. 
“Clearly she must be beautiful,” Colette brushed some of her hair behind one shoulder. 
“Is she a girlfriend? Hopeful girlfriend?”

*****

She wanted to be social, then. He stifled a sigh and with a flick of the fingers, Adrian minimized the contracts. She sounded like she knew Natalie, but the granddaughter of a Patron was a famous family for those in the know.

Memory of Natalie came unbidden, then. The temptation of her offer. The heat shared on the drive back to Moscow. Her tease and promise. He'd not seen her since then but for signatures and messages crossing the Wallet like the ghost of her hand. The question made him pause, certainly. “A business associate,” he corrected.

*****

Colette laughed. She knew that look better than anyone. She plucked the stem of the martini as she laughed, tilted the frosty glass to her lips. It was a girly move that usually gave her what she wanted, and at the moment, all she wanted was his undivided attention. Since arriving in Moscow, she hadn't had much more than polite conversation with anyone. Even the tour guide had been rather stiff. Her smile brightened the light of the dying sky and she offered a hand to shake.


“I’m Colette Moreau,” she said.

*****

She was beguiling. The girl knew the breadth of her own power, casting out a light that against the dying sky even Adrian was tempted to watch it dance. More, everything about the girl radiated sophistication. The way she sipped the diamond liquid against the masterful tilt of her body. She knew exactly what she was doing, and the sweetness that wafted dug its claws into his skin. He had misjudged the American accent, he realized. She played in Moscow, and there were a few vixens in Manifesto he would like to see her pitted against. Just to watch her neatly snap them up. The moment she offered her name, he understood. The pieces of the puzzle slid into place.

The Moreau’s were one of the wealthiest families in the world. Given the majority of the world's money was banked within Custody borders, those outside that harbored net worth in the high billions were legends in their own. Moreau was a sort of royalty in America, or so he assumed they would be. Adrian didn’t follow the American chess board. He was doing well enough to stay on top of the pieces in Moscow, and here, where the game was played for blood, he was doing well.

He grasped her hand, “Adrian Kane,” he replied, knowing she would not recognize him in return. She must be used to it, he assumed. Fending off the drooling fans pawing at the hint of her beauty and money.

Since he was already drawn in, and since he now knew exactly who was trying to win his attention, he decided it was time to let her have it.

A server was summoned, and he orchestrated the union of their tables into one. He’d not ask Colette to move, and he was the gentleman. It meant giving up the best table, but it was a necessary sacrifice. The server moved his drink and other belongings as he joined the chair next to her.

“What brings you to Moscow?” he said, settling into the seat alongside. The server asked if they needed anything else before departing. He glanced at Colette, offering on her behalf.