by Nicole Vidal
“Workaholic?”
“Sort of. I wanted the partnership, so I worked extremely hard to get it. Now I don’t want it anymore.”
He sets the last dish on the drying rack. “Being able to adjust your path isn’t a terrible place to be.”
Interesting and astute observation for a young guy. “Thanks, Nolan. Have a good night.”
He leans down to hug me before walking out the door. When I turn from the door and set the alarm, Jacob is scowling at me.
“What was that?” he asks.
“What? A hug. Seriously?”
He raises an eyebrow.
“It isn’t as if he and everyone else doesn’t see we’re together, Jacob.”
“Don’t like his hands on you.”
“How cute, you’re jealous.”
“Not at all. I just didn’t like him hugging you.”
“I want you. Nolan was just being friendly.”
“Still didn’t like it.”
“I love your ‘protect my woman at all costs’ attitude, but Nolan isn’t going to hurt me. Would you freak out if William hugged me?”
“No, I trust him.”
“You don’t trust Nolan or is it because William is happily married?”
Realization crosses his face. “I give.” He hauls me into his arms before kissing me possessively. “Ready to take a look at the photos?”
“Sure.” I follow him to the office where a large stack of photos is piled on his desk.
Chapter 50
Jacob
Never once have I ever felt jealous. Not only did I feel jealousy but possessiveness and a tiny bit of rage. It isn’t that I don’t trust Norah and Nolan, but whatever they were talking about led Nolan to believe she needed comfort. That is solely my domain. Reeling in my thoughts, I follow her to the office.
“You weren’t truthful when I asked about awards.”
“Yes, I was. I said they were in the bottom two drawers in my office.”
“You failed to mention how many there were.”
“You didn’t ask. Plus, I don’t like to talk about them, especially now that all of the work was for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing. Not only were you a candidate, but you possess every quality a partner should have and then some. Changing your mind about wanting the partnership is not the same as failing to achieve it.” I may have stunned her silent.
A few solid minutes pass before she whispers, “Thank you.”
I press my lips to her cheek before moving a chair around the desk. She sits at my desk and thumbs through the images. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth again. Holy hell! Focus! Chief Walker’s men were thorough. There is an image of the front and back of each award.
“Does anything look off?”
“No,” she replies as she flips through the stack. “Honestly, I left the awards ceremony, set the plaque in the drawer, and went home. I never studied them in any detail. I may have earned these with my work, but I didn’t work to earn these. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.” More than you know. I didn’t risk my life to bring those men home for accolades. I did it because I expect them to do it for me. No award will bring them back to their families. No award made me take that risk, one never could.
“This is the one from two years ago,” she says after making it halfway through the stack. “All the plaques for billings and revenue have looked the same since I started at Quinn Sterling. There is nothing unique about this one. Each is laser engraved with the company logo, recipient’s name, and the year on the front. The back is just a bar code from the award company and the slot to hang it on the wall.”
“Let’s compare the first one you ever received to the one from last year.”
Setting the photos in a grid, we compare them. The front of the plaques are identical except for the year. The back is the same except the bar codes differ. I jot down the year and the bar code. Systematically, I make a list of the bar codes for each award.
“Only the bar code from two years ago is different,” I note. “Does the number mean anything to you?”
“No, it could be an access code to a file, but I have no idea which one. Each employee has a twelve-digit access code. Each file requires permission and the employee’s access code as well as the twelve-digit file number. That isn’t the access code for the Moretti Brand.”
“What are these awards for?” I ask, indicating the acrylic awards with a swirl on top.
“Those are for customer confidence. They’re voted on by clients.”
“Is there one for the Moretti Brand?”
“No.” That makes sense considering she has only had the file for seven months. “Did Blaine get a copy of the check?”
“Yes, but he said it was odd.”
“Why?”
“There were two checks deposited into the scholarship fund three days after the award ceremony. Do you always donate all of the bonus?”
“Yes, I donate the entire amount each year. I do the work for the clients, not the bonuses or awards. Creating the scholarship put the money to the best use I could think of.”
“It’s an amazing plan, babe.”
“As far as the two checks, I recall that but didn’t think anything of it at the time. I figured Mr. Sterling wanted to keep the amount of each check less than ten thousand dollars.”
I hand her the copies of the two checks. “The total is fourteen thousand. Two checks make sense, but didn’t the message say something about the prize being relevant?”
“Yes.” I see her brain working, and it’s sexy as hell.
“The first is for $6,983.86 and the second is for $7,016.14 for a total of $14,000.00. If put together, it would be a twelve-digit number, but I don’t know what it means or which file it corresponds to.”
“Okay, you’ll figure it out. You have all the pieces now, right?”
“I think so. I have the image of the award, the amount of the prize, and the entire Moretti file.”
“We’ll come back to it tomorrow. You and I need some sleep.”
She doesn’t argue with me, taking my outstretched hand as I lead her to the bedroom. After stripping out of my clothes, I climb into bed. Norah walks around the room and rifles through the bag before pulling out something to sleep in. While I’m enjoying the view, her shapely legs and ass on display, it dawns on me. Throwing back the covers, I grab her hand, her bag, and lead her to a door to the left of the bathroom.
“Why don’t you put your clothes in here?” When I refurbished this house, I turned a powder room for the office into a closet and joined it with the master closet. The master closet is huge. I barely use a third of it.
“Are you sure?” A shred of doubt creeps into her voice, causing it to crack.
“Norah, I love you. I want you to stay. Move your clothes into the closet and the empty dresser.” I take her mouth and kiss her until her knees weaken.
When she regains her footing, she demands, “Say it again.”
“I love you, Norah.”
“I love you.” She kisses me softly before speaking again. “You realize I will fill this when I have all my shoes, right?”
“I’ll build you a closet just for your sexy shoes if you want one.” Something flickers in her eyes, but I don’t acknowledge it. Norah doesn’t have a large amount of clothes here right now. I hang her clothes while she puts her lingerie and other clothes in the empty dresser beside mine.
“Ready to get some sleep now?”
She nods, sliding her fingers between mine. As we climb into bed, I haul her against me.
“Good night, Norah.”
“Good night, Jacob.” A content sigh passes her lips when I kiss the nape of her neck. Mere minutes later, she’s sound asleep in my arms, exactly where she should be.
Chapter 51
Norah
Part of me is grateful that Stan gave me the Moretti file all those months ago, the rest of me, not so much. My integrity brought me here, indirectly
anyway. My integrity necessitated my need for personal security. He’s the best I know. Now, I just need to get rid of the Morettis. To do that, I need to solve the puzzle sprawled out on the floor in Jacob’s office. The drawback is I need to leave the warmth of his arms to do it. I suppose a better way to look at it is, he asked me to stay. I can step into his arms whenever I need to.
I try to slip out of bed, but Jacob’s arms tighten around me.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs against my skin, sending tingles down my spine.
“You aren’t a very good influence on my work ethic, Mr. Blackthorne.”
“Maybe so, but you’re very good for my work-life balance.”
“Am I now?”
“Absolutely. If you were my client but not my….”
“Still not a fan of girlfriend, huh?”
“No.”
I would love to know what would be enough. Truthfully, I’m fine without a label if we are on the same page. Even more so if I wake up and fall asleep with him.
“If you were just a client, I wouldn’t be with you. I would have passed the day-to-day security off to Nolan or Christoph so I could focus on finding the answers to remove the bounty.”
“Fair enough, but you wouldn’t be able to decipher the Quinn Sterling files or the clues.”
“True.”
“You need me.”
“I do, but I would prefer it for only me, not dealing with the Morettis.”
I lean closer, pulling his lower lip between my teeth. He growls softly.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“You’re making progress with words. You deserve a reward.”
“Well, if you are going to kiss me thoroughly every time I use words, we won’t get anything done, especially if you kiss me like that.”
“I’ll just have to save them up for one long series of kisses each evening.”
“Deal. We need to get up, so we don’t get caught in bed when the team arrives.”
I pout but move to the bathroom anyway.
Over the course of the next few days, after the morning meeting with the team, we hunker down in Jacob’s office. He works on Blackthorne business while I study and pick apart the Moretti file, looking for something that works with the prize code. I’ve haven’t found anything of use so far. Sadly, I won’t be able to go home for Thanksgiving, but Jacob is having his family over again, so at least I’ll be able to have some pumpkin pie. However, they refuse to let me cook this time.
I know both of us are doing our best to find the answers for the ledger. I’m also sure I won’t complete the task by Friday’s deadline. There’s nothing more I can do. I have been systematically combing through thousands of pages of numbers since I got them. Mr. Sterling certainly didn’t make the ledger easy to find. Although I’m sure that was his intention.
I hear Jacob on the phone but tune him out, continuing through Rosita’s last vendor file, Mancini Textiles, that she has in common with Sergio. I shift my eyes back and forth between the two, everything seems to match up until three years ago. That was when Rosita turned thirty. From the outset, she was siphoning money away from the family with Sergio’s help. Where did that money go?
“Hey, I think I have another angle,” I say out loud before I remember he’s still on the phone. “Sorry,” I whisper.
He smiles over at me. Finishing his call, he moves onto the couch next to me. “I have news too.”
“Go ahead.”
“Blaine was able to figure out the sides. It appears that Stan was working with Sergio and Rosita to oust Gustavo as CEO and president. Stan and Sergio have been working together since Rosita received her own company.”
“Damn!”
“What?”
“Remember the SEC filings I reviewed, that was creating Rosita’s company.”
“Everything was accurate and legal, right?”
“Yes, my review was thorough and accurate. However, there’s no telling what Stan did after I returned it to him.”
“When Gustavo learned about their subterfuge last year, he reached out to Robert Quinn. Blaine has the phone records and emails to prove that Robert is on the right side of this.”
“We can trust Robert?”
“I believe so. I want to give Blaine a bit more time to solidify his opinion and find more concrete evidence that Robert is clean before we reach out to him. What angle did you find?” he asks.
“We need to follow the money.”
“Meaning?”
“Let’s assume that Sergio and Rosita weren’t happy with Gustavo’s plan to go legit, as it would diminish their lifestyle. With Stan’s help, they started siphoning money away from the conglomerate when Rosita attained age thirty. If Rosita’s company is hiding money, where is it? We need to find it. Would Blaine be able to safely determine accounts that Rosita and Sergio have? If I can match the deposits and balances to the discrepancies in their companies, I won’t need the ledger.”
“You’re brilliant!” He kisses me hard and moves back to his desk, calling someone immediately, presumably Blaine. After relaying what I just shared, he hangs up. “Blaine will get you whatever he can by Friday afternoon. Starting now, we’re done until then.”
“What do you say we order some pizza, grab some wine, and watch a movie?”
“Sounds perfect.”
We settle downstairs on the plush couch with our dinner. Now we have a true test of our relationship. Who gets to pick the movie? Jacob hands me the remote. He says nothing as I scroll through the available titles. Jacob is either wise beyond what his relationship experience would suggest, or he truly doesn’t care what we watch. I opt for Casablanca before settling back against him.
“Nice.”
“You approve?”
“It would seem we have similar taste in movies as well as wine.”
“I wonder what else we agree on.”
“We have plenty of time to learn,” he replies.
If he only knew how his words affected me before he was able to share his feelings. I lean up to kiss him.
“What was that for?”
“Words, Jacob. Words.”
“Is that all for the day?”
“Not even close, but you earned a teaser.”
After the movie, we curl up by the fireplace and watch the light snow fall.
Chapter 52
Jacob
Early on Thanksgiving morning, I slink out of bed and into my office to verify some details for later today. After confirming, I pad to the kitchen to make coffee and feed Tank. Two hot cups in hand, I make my way back to the bedroom. Her long hair is spilled all over my pillow, her skin looks flawless against the white sheets clutched in her fists. I almost don’t want to wake her, but I need to keep her busy in the house until at least eleven. That isn’t going to be an easy feat.
Setting the cups on the night table, I slide back into bed.
“Jacob.”
“Morning, gorgeous.”
“You’re a god.”
I chuckle. “What kind of god am I?”
“A coffee god.”
“That’s it?”
“Definitely not, but I’m not properly caffeinated to discuss further.”
“Well, sit up and you can have this cup.”
Instead of immediately sitting up, she kisses a path up my side, circling my nipple with her tongue before making her way to my mouth. “Hi.”
“How badly do you want that coffee?”
“I can survive a while without it. Have something else in mind?” she asks, arching her eyebrow. I spend the next few hours showing her what else is on my mind—her under me, over me, engulfing me, tasting me while I do the same to her.
After catching my breath, I turn to face her. “I’ll make more coffee while you shower. The parade starts in less than an hour. Plus, I have a surprise for you.”
“What kind of surprise?” she asks as I stand, pulling on some shorts.
“You’re just going to have to wait a
bit longer to find out. Go.”
Reluctantly, she stands. I almost make it out of the room, but her naked body just begs to be caressed with my tongue. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her pink nipple between my teeth.
“Jacob,” she moans, “you can’t expect me to be ready on time if you keep—”
I cut off her words with my tongue. We truly don’t have time for another round of body-bending sex. Placing her feet back on the floor, I kiss her lips once more and walk out of the room.
I purposely take my time making the coffee. If I’m lucky, she’ll be out of the shower and partially dressed. Thankfully I stall long enough and I find her drying off. I hand her a fresh cup, kiss her softly, and step into the shower.
“No time for gawking, beautiful.”
“No fair!” She smiles and walks out of the bathroom.
Right on time, we start watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It’s a tradition that I normally share with Jill and Cam. Well, we did when we were kids. I have been watching alone for the past six years. Oddly, I don’t feel sad. Having Norah here to share this with me makes me happy. Colorful, fanciful balloons cross the screen. High school bands from across the country stop and play in front of the flagship store.
“Did you watch with Mara?”
“Sort of. Jill, Cam, and I watched every year. Mara joined us when she could. Why?”
“I always watched with Kelly, but Joseph wanted nothing to do with it.”
“You miss them?” I ask quietly.
“Yes and no. I don’t see them very often, but we talk at least weekly. It’s weird not having updates about James and Jackson, or the latest goings on at the shop or Nicholas’s latest role and milestone updates for baby Nick. I miss chatting with Kelsey too. She’s my closet shrink.” I chuckle at that.
“You don’t need a shrink. You just need a bestie to dish or gripe about me to. What was her advice to you when you called her at the Michelsons’?”
“Thank you for knowing I needed to talk to someone. She told me to own my feelings, suck it up, and prepare myself to walk away brokenhearted or tell you I broke my promise.”
