Honeymoon - James Patterson [12]
She continued: “What you can help me with, Steven, is setting up a business for me.” And by the way, that business isn’t located in my brassiere.
“It so happens that’s something I specialize in,” said the lawyer.
Nora tried not to cringe when he actually ended the sentence by combining a wink with a loud, double-clicking noise from the side of his mouth.
“Where will this business be located?” he asked.
“The Cayman Islands.”
“Oh,” he said, pausing. A slight look of concern came over his face. His very attractive new client in the silk blouse and short skirt was undoubtedly looking to sidestep the law and not pay her taxes.
“I hope that’s not a problem,” said Nora.
Keppler’s disgusting ogling went into overdrive. “Ah, no, I don’t see why it . . . uh . . . has to be,” he stammered. “The thing is, establishing a business down there requires the cooperation of what’s called a registered agent. In simple terms, it’s a resident of the Cayman Islands who, in name only, acts as a representative of your company. Am I making myself clear?”
Nora knew all of this but didn’t let on. She nodded her head like a rapt student.
“As luck would have it,” Keppler added, “I have just such an agent under my employ.”
“That is lucky,” Nora said.
“Now, I assume you’ll be needing a bank account opened for you down there as well, right?”
Bingo.
“Yes, I think that would be a good idea. You can do that for me?”
“Actually, you’re supposed to do that in person,” he said.
Again, Nora shifted in her seat. “Oh, what a horrible inconvenience,” she said.
“I know, isn’t it?” He leaned over his desk. “Maybe I could pull a few strings and save you the trip.”
“That would be wonderful! You’re a lifesaver.”
He reached into a file drawer and took out some forms. “I’ll just need to get a little information from you, Olivia.”
Chapter 15
THE LINCOLN TOWN CAR turned off busy Route 9, then sped along picturesque Scarborough Road, eventually making it to equally pretty Central Drive, finally pulling into Connor’s Belgium block driveway a little before dusk that Friday. The driver had barely stepped out to open the door for Nora when he was beaten to it by Connor, who was obviously beyond eager to see her.
“Come here, you!” he beckoned. “I’ve been just about crazy, thinking about you.”
Nora swung her feet out of the car and immediately leaped into his arms. They kissed while the driver—a robust, older Italian man—popped the trunk and lifted out Nora’s suitcase. He tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. With the sun setting on a beautiful day, and in front of one of the most gorgeous homes he’d ever seen, here was this lovely couple clearly head over heels in love. He thought to himself, If this ain’t the top of the mountain, I don’t know what is.
“Here you go,” said Connor. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a wad of cash. He slid the driver a twenty-dollar tip.
“Thank you, sir,” the man said through a thick accent. “You’re too kind.”
“And too cute!” chirped Nora as she hugged Connor around the waist.
He really is cute, isn’t he? she couldn’t help thinking.
The driver jiggled with a hearty chuckle and returned to his car. “Have a nice night, kids,” he called over his shoulder.
Nora and Connor laughed, then watched for a moment as the Town Car turned out of the driveway and disappeared.
Nora peeled herself away from Connor. “So how was work?” she asked. “On second thought, I don’t want to talk about work.”
“Me, either,” he said. “Besides, all work and no play . . .”
“. . . makes us very fucking boring!”
That was one of their very first mantras—and still one of their favorites.
“We should do it right here,” she said, and winked. “Right here on the front lawn! To hell with the neighbors. Let them watch if they want to. Maybe they’ll be inspired.”
Connor reached for her hand. “Actually, I’ve got