The Dutch Governor

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Mei found the mansion airy and rather pleasant. She laughed aloud at Lia's wide eyes and how the young woman reached out to touch everything, from the pale green walls to the furniture to the paintings.

The white-walled reception room was a corner parlour with windows on two sides and patio doors overlooking a terrace and the island below, including the port.

Overhead was a hand-painted mural on the ceiling depicting merchants at sea and wealthy counting houses on land. The couches were dark, imported oak with zebra-striped pelts for cushions. On the coffee table were crystal cups sitting on a golden platter next to a bottle of white wine, along with a three-tier dessert tower laden with brilliantly coloured treats.

The governor was seated across from Lance and Armand, the former looking genteel and casual, perhaps because of the guards standing just inside the door. Lance and Armand seemed quiet and warier as they listened to the governor. The two cellists ignored the conversation and stuffed their faces with mini cakes and macaroons. Cheeto sat in an oversized stuffed chair, sinking into it and looking both uncomfortable by the surroundings and dwarfed by the massive vase of flowers next to him.

When she swanned into the room ahead of them, Brechtje smiled at her husband, interrupting him. "Schat, I've brought the rest of our guests."

Cheeto, biting into a pink muffin, spit crumbs out in surprise. "What did you call him?"

The woman raised a brow. "Schat. It means treasure or dear in Dutch. A term of affection."

Cheeto coughed and tried to swallow. "Oh. 'K. Thought you were saying something else."

The governor seemed annoyed by the interruption. He gave his wife a tight smile in return. "Thank you." He was about to go on with whatever he'd been saying to Lance, in particular, still looking excited to have made the man's acquaintance, but his wife again interrupted.

"You'll never guess who I've met." She excitedly gestured to Juan. "Juan Fernandez!"

"Who?"

"The actor. He's famous. From Spain!" Her eyes still shone as she looked at Juan.

The governor was far less impressed. "I'm sure. Well, if he's in here, he's no longer an actor anymore, is he?"

"Well, that's only—"

The governor turned an irritated gaze on the Spaniard. "What did you do? Tax evasion? Drunk driving and kill someone? You're an actor; it probably has something to do with cocaine and underage girls, hmm?" He sniffed and shook his head before picking up his glass.

Brechtje's smile became awkward. "It wasn't like that, mijn schat. You see—"

This time, he cut her off, his frown sharper. "I'm talking business. With someone who actually matters. Not some washed-up actor who fucked up and landed himself in prison over something stupid." He waved her away in dismissal. "Why don't you...I don't know, go show the Carib something sure to amaze her. Like a working toilet."

She looked hurt but forced a smile and turned back to Mei and Lia. "Perhaps you'd like to join me for tea in another room?"

Mei apologized. "I think I need to stay. But Lia could go?" She gently nudged Lia in Brechtje's direction, urging her to accompany the other woman.

Cheeto jumped up from his chair, looking eager to get out of there. "I'll go with her. Come on, Lia. Vamos." He put an arm around her and pulled her to the door, Lia looking uncertain but allowing it.

Juan turned to follow.

The governor lifted a finger, though he didn't look up. "Not him. He stays."

Two marines closed off the doorway, preventing Juan from following, while two more followed the others out of the room.

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