Shore Leave (Star Line Express Romance Book 2) by Alessia Bowman

Author:Alessia Bowman [Bowman, Alessia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eclipse Ink
Published: 2018-09-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Lasson

I meet Rhasov at the Six Seasons. We arrive simultaneously just as the seasons at the entry switch from winter to zhrag, so we get a trail of the snow and a blast of the wind. I haven’t been here in a while. In fact, the last time I was here was to meet Rhasov.

The place is an acquired taste, since the cuisine is all Chengdry. It’s a taste I’ve acquired from eating Fitch’s expert cooking. Damn Fitch. I have to talk with him today. If Kaera can’t see reason, he will. He has to.

And the three of us have a business to run. Surely they can understand at least that.

Rhasov’s razor-sharp features have hardly changed since I met him in a business class a decade ago, but his clothes are more expensive now. I had to procure an entire new wardrobe this morning and I can’t say I’m comfortable in these garments yet. But they’re better than the worn-out gear I had stored in that dresser. Odd that it’s all that survived the cataclysm.

Odder still that the cataclysm was localized at my house. My former house. Right now I have no house. And don’t seem to care.

Rhasov gives me a slap on the back and says, “I heard about the house, Lasson. That’s too bad.”

“I needed a new house anyway,” I say. “New start.”

We sit at a table against the wall that’s currently featuring sallag. It’s too damned cheery but because the seasons rotate, I won’t be forced to bear it for long.

The two of us talk niceties for a few moments. How his life mate is doing—she’s training for some kind of sporting event whose rules and purpose elude me but I nod encouragement since Rhasov himself seems impressed by her efforts.

Rhasov wasn’t always the influential fellow he currently is, and he was lucky as hell to get matched with her, although there are rumors that Rhasov’s mother was involved with some kind of bribery scheme to effect the match. Not that it matters anymore. Rhasov himself must be worth ten or twenty times what his life mate, Warali, is at this point.

“Let’s talk about your new start,” Rhasov says finally, after the second course shows up. Despite the sensual flavors, I put down my fork.

“Yes,” I say. “I have to have my match immediately.” There’s no point in acting coy about this. Better to be demanding. Ask for what I want—and get it.

“You realize there’s a halt on the lottery just now,” he says.

“I did not.” I didn’t. What a damnably lousy time for the lottery to be halted. I’ve never heard of anything like this. “Why?”

“Now you’re asking a difficult question,” Rhasov says, turning his head. He’s almost two-dimensional from the side, as though he’s all profile and nothing else. He looks around the room, like he thinks someone could be spying on him. On us.

“Is this something you can’t say here? We can go to my office afterward.”

“No need,” Rhasov says, finishing up the current course.

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