Felix came to the study at seven the next morning with a thin folder and a very careful face.
"Julian Hale," he said, and set the folder on the desk. "Thirty-one years old. Buyer for Maison Doré. Clean record, good reputation, no debts. He's real, and so is his company."
Damien flipped the folder open. "And?"
"And he flirts with everyone. It's kind of his hobby. There's a model in Paris, a florist in Lyon, and a lawyer in Nice, and those are only the ones I found in one night." Felix paused. "He's not dangerous, Damien. He's just annoying."
"Then why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you asked me to investigate a man for flirting with your wife." Felix tried to hold back a grin and failed. "For business reasons."
"Get out."
"Going. But for the record, I've never been prouder."
"Out, Felix."
The door closed. Damien read the file twice anyway. Then he shut it and told himself that was the end of it.
It was not the end of it.
• • •
The flowers came at noon.
