“I was just going back downstairs.”
“Please stay,” Rawn said. “We need to talk.”
A sense of dread settled in my stomach even as I nodded. Rawn gestured for me to precede them into the office. I could imagine what it was he wanted to know. A dialogue, one I’d formulated a long time ago and often repeated, ran through my mind. An explanation as much as anything else.
“I know this seems odd,” I began, but Rawn wasn’t listening. He’d sunk onto the couch and had buried his face in his hands.
He really did love her.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Conrad said.
Rawn looked up, his eyes settling on my face rather than Conrad’s. “They’re going to figure out sooner or later that they took the wrong girl. And when they do…” A sick look settled on Rawn’s face. His eyes fell to the floor for a long moment. He cleared his throat. “When they do, they’ll likely want to rectify their mistake.” He gestured toward me. “We’ll have to be prepared.”
Cold fingers wrapped themselves around my heart.
“You don’t think it has anything to do with the Alessa 3D X100, do you?”
Again Rawn’s eyes shifted to me before he stood. “I’ve got the entire security department out looking for Madison. I need you to keep Mellissa safe.”
Conrad looked at me then, too.
I almost laughed.
“That really isn’t necessary, Mr. Jackman,” I said. “I can take care of myself.”
“So could Madison.”
The words hung in the air between us. The desire to laugh died.
And moments later, I found myself alone on an elevator with Conrad. He had his hand on the small of my back as the doors closed. The moment the elevator began to move, I stepped away from him.
“Who did you tell?”
He glanced at me. “What do you mean?”
“You know damn well what I mean. You refuse to meet with me, and then you show up here…who did you tell?”
Conrad cocked his head slightly, a dark light coming into his jewel-like green eyes. “You think this is my doing?”
“Who else?”
I turned away from his gaze, a little unnerved by his unblinking stare. But I could still feel the heat of his eyes on the back of my head, like little heat lamps burning their way through my scalp into my skull.
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
I shook my head. I didn’t believe him. It made no sense if it wasn’t him.
The elevator stopped on the ground floor. When I didn’t move quickly enough, Conrad grabbed my arm and led me off the contraption and toward the front doors. I had always kind of liked the lobby of Cepheus, what with its busts of great scientific minds, the revolving doors, and the constellations reproduced on the marble steps. But a small part of me was a little afraid that this was going to be the last time I would see it all, and that made the sight a little less pleasing.
Conrad shoved me into the passenger seat of a small sports car—a Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG GT—that seemed completely appropriate to his personality: small, but with a hell of a lot of power under the hood.
“Where do you live?” he asked as he started the engine.
“Why?”
“You’ll need a few things. There’s no telling how long this will take.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe. Just like Rawn said.”
“No.”
Conrad glanced over at me—or was he just checking out the traffic?—before gunning the engine and tearing down the block.
“Rawn was pretty clear on his instructions.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t know that you’re the only person in Portland who knows who I am and likely the one who informed the kidnappers that I was here.”
“If I had done that, don’t you think they would have grabbed the right girl?” He glanced at me again, his eyes lingering for a moment in places they probably shouldn’t have. “You and Madison don’t look that much alike.”
I glanced down at my full hips and stubby legs, aware of just how little we did look alike. But I couldn’t let him have the upper hand.
“We have the same color hair.”
“Yeah, but you’re at least five inches shorter than her. I think that alone is something even a couple of goons would notice.”
“Then who do you think did this?”
Conrad shook his head. “I don’t know. Someone who wants information about Cepheus.”
“But why would someone involved in corporate espionage want me? I’m like the lowest person on the totem pole.”
“You’re the Vice President of Product Development’s receptionist. You’ve seen paperwork move through the office that has sensitive information on it.”
“Rarely. Russell handles most of that stuff.”
Conrad glanced at me. “They don’t know that.”
I shook my head, twisting slightly to look out the window. None of it made sense to me. If it was someone interested in stealing secrets from Cepheus, they might have been better off to target Madison first. And if it was someone from my past, someone interested in hurting me specifically, Conrad was right when he said they would likely know better what I looked like. So it had to be something else.
But what?
“All I know,” Conrad said, “is that Rawn wants me to keep you safe. I gave him my word.”
“And your word is everything.”
“Isn’t yours?”
I couldn’t help but smile. He reminded me too much of home.
“You’re going the wrong direction. I live on the other side of town.”
***
Madison
“Come on, Mellissa.”
The doors had finally opened, and the sudden light blinded me. I felt hands on my arms, my shoulders, two, maybe three, pairs of hands. They pulled me into the bright afternoon sunlight, pain flaring in my legs as they attempted to take the weight of my body. They only let me stand for a moment though. One set of hands lifted me up and flipped me over a broad, thick shoulder. Definitely not the guy who approached me at the outlet mall. He was smaller, thinner.
My eyes began to adjust as we walked. I became aware of bright green grass and flowers. Like the landscaping of someone’s front yard. But I didn’t hear any traffic noise, so, wherever we were, we weren’t in the city limits. I wasn’t sure what direction we had traveled in, but I never heard the telltale sounds of a bridge, so I’m pretty sure we didn’t go north, that we hadn’t crossed into Washington State. We could have continued south, toward Salem, or we could have gone west, toward Tillamook. I didn’t think we had gone east…that would have taken us toward Mt. Hood, and I was pretty sure we hadn’t gone much higher in elevation. But I really couldn’t be sure.
All I knew was that they were carrying me into some building that was almost as dark as the van had been, and it had worn wood floors.
Not much to go on.
Please, Rawn, please be looking for me.
Chapter Three
“Memaw!”
Conrad shot me a look as we walked through the front door of my grandmother’s rented house. I ignored him, preferring to run up the stairs to find the two people who should be occupying the house at that moment.
Relief flooded me when I turned the corner at the top of the stairs and spotted my grandmother lying in her bed where I had left her, and the hired nurse, Christy, sitting in a chair beside her.
“You’re home early,” Christy said, rising and meeting me in the doorway.
“How is she?”
“Resting.” Christy glanced behind her. “She seems more lucid today.”
“Good.”
I stepped back slightly, just as Christy’s gaze moved to the top of the stairs. Conrad was there, in all his Texas billionaire glory, his expressive eyes taking in everything in a single glance. I tried to ignore him as I attempted to step between Christy and him. Being short could be a disadvantage at all the wrong times. Christy
was at least six inches taller than me—she could have seen him no better if I had simply disappeared.
“Can you stay the night?” I asked.
Christy’s eyebrows rose, as she reluctantly pulled her eyes from Conrad back to my face. “Working late?” she asked with a slight smile.
“Something like that.”
“Sure.” She turned back into the room. “We’ll be fine.”
I stole one more glance at my grandmother, reluctant to wake her, but anxious to make sure she was okay. What if the kidnappers came here looking for me? What if they found her—vulnerable and practically alone—and took their revenge out on her?
I wasn’t sure I could survive the loss of one more person I loved.
Conrad had moved up behind me, and he laid his hands lightly on my shoulders.
“I can have Rawn send someone out to check on them from time to time.”
“How long is this going to go on? What if they—”
Conrad pulled me backward, leading me down the length of the hall before he turned me around so that we were standing impossibly close, his back bent so that we were nearly face to face.
“You can’t let the what-ifs take control. It’ll just drive you insane, make you paranoid. And when you’re paranoid, you make mistakes.”
I knew he was right. When it was just me, when I was only fighting for my own survival, it was easy to keep my head where it was supposed to be. But now there was an implied threat against my grandmother. I had already lost so much. How was I supposed to keep my head on straight now?
I started to shake my head. Conrad pressed his hand to my cheek, his thumb brushing softly against my bottom lip. I knew I should pull away. I couldn’t trust him. He was part of the past, of the same past I was trying to outrun when I came to Portland. How could I have known he would be here, that I would walk into that launch party last week and see him standing there with my boss? Who knew her Conrad was the same Conrad who used to hang out outside my uncle’s bar? Who knew he was the same Conrad who’d seen my picture on my uncle’s desk a dozen times, who would know me the second he pulled his eyes away from Aurora and that actress they’d been talking to, and that he would recognize me even though it had been years since the last time anyone had seen my uncle?
I knew the moment he saw me that he remembered. I tried to avoid him all night, but I got distracted by the star party, and then he was just there.
“I know you,” he said, as he came up from behind me. “Your name is Mellissa Cambray.”
I knew then I was in trouble.
And not just because he knew who I was.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” I whispered, as I ducked my head to move out of his reach, inadvertently leading the way into my bedroom.
And, of course, he followed.
“You have to learn to trust me.”
I glanced over at him, a little taken aback by the way he stood casually in the doorway, almost as if he felt like he belonged there.
“It’s hard to trust someone when I know so little about him.”
“What do you want to know?”
Did you turn me in?
I turned back to the drawer I had been hunting through, blushing when I realized I had a handful of panties in my hands. I dropped them and opened another drawer, pulling out a stack of blue jeans and tossing them onto the bed.
“How long will I be gone?”
Conrad shook his head. “Don’t know.”
“This can’t go on for very long, can it? I mean, surely Rawn will find Madison—”
“I don’t know, Mellissa.”
His tone made me look up from my search for a few comfortable t-shirts. There was a certain amount of exhaustion in his voice, as though the idea of this thing dragging out for very long was just tiresome to him.
“You don’t have to watch over me. I’ve done this before, I can do it again.”
“Rawn wants you kept under lock and key.”
“And you do everything Rawn tells you to do?”
“He’s a friend.” Conrad pushed away from the doorframe and stepped into the room, moving close to my bed and touching the bedspread like he had been imagining what it would feel like against his flesh. “I owe him.”
“Owe him what?”
Conrad just shook his head. “You need to pack. We should be on our way as quickly as possible.”
“You don’t think someone followed us here?”
“I think we shouldn’t take chances.”
That spurred me into action. I quickly withdrew a stack of shirts from a bottom drawer and dug a duffle bag out of the closet. I was packed in less than a minute.
“Let’s go.”
***
Conrad drove me to an apartment complex on the outskirts of the city overlooking the river. We took the elevator to the top floor, where I half expected the doors to open onto some sort of luxurious penthouse apartment. Everyone knew that Conrad was wealthy. There was a rumor that he inherited billions from his grandfather or someone. And I assumed that the fact that he had keys to this building meant he owned the apartment we were headed toward, right?
But when we stepped off the elevator, there were two doors. Two apartments.
“Rawn owns the building. That’s his apartment,” he said, pointing to the door on the left. “And this is where we’re supposed to hang out for the time being.”
Conrad opened the door on the right and gestured for me to enter in front of him.
It was a nice apartment, furnished with an interesting collection of modern and antique pieces. They almost looked like castoffs from several other apartments. I walked in and ran my hands over the wood inlay on the edge of a high boy. It reminded me a little of a china cupboard that once stood in the dining room of the house where I grew up.
“Interesting,” Conrad said, dropping my bag as he brushed past me. “Not quite what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
He shrugged. “Rawn has interesting tastes. His house has a pretty modern twist to it. But this…”
“It’s like remnants from his parents’ house.”
Conrad nodded. “Something like that.”
He crossed to the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards like he was taking an inventory. I was more content to look at the rest of the furniture. I was impressed by the eighteenth century sideboard, but less impressed with the fifty dollar coffee table that looked as though it was about to fall over. The couch was nice, a modern, microfiber-covered sectional. And, of course, the sixty-inch, flat-screen television hanging on the wall.
I wondered what the apartment next door looked like.
“Hey,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Why does Rawn have a house and an apartment?”
Conrad stuck his head around the kitchen door. “He’s rich. Rich guys do funny things.”
“Like you? Do you have more than one home?”
“Nope…well, unless you count a vacation house as another home.”
“You have a vacation house?”
“In Corpus Christi.”
“Must be nice,” I said, kind of under my breath, as I continued my little tour of the apartment. There wasn’t much more to it. Beyond the living room was a short hallway that led to a bedroom that contained only a queen-sized bed and a low dresser. And a bathroom. I made my way back to the kitchen and settled on a barstool that was set beside the long breakfast bar to watch Conrad pull vegetables, fruit, and other items from the refrigerator.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
I wasn’t sure I could eat. My stomach was still tied in knots as I tried not to think about Madison and what might be happening at my grandmother’s house in that moment. But, as I watched him chop up onions and bell peppers and garlic cloves, I felt my stomach rumble. I hadn’t had a chance to run over to the twenty-four hour diner near my grandmother’s house that morning as I usually did. And it all smelled
so good.
“Where did you learn to cook?”
Conrad chuckled, a little bit of color flooding his tan face. “You’re going to think it’s a pick-up line or something.”
“Try me.”
He set down the knife he had been holding and turned toward me. He cleared his throat. “So, I was dating this girl in college and she had a thing for Emeril Lagasse—you know, the chef?” When I nodded, he continued. “I thought it would make her happy if I signed us up for a couple of classes at the community center, basic cooking classes. This girl—she couldn’t boil water. It turned out that I had an aptitude for it and she didn’t. We broke up and I enrolled in a culinary school.”
“Seriously?”
He inclined his head slightly.
“You learned to cook for a girl, but you didn’t get the girl.”
“I met Aurora a year later, so I guess it worked out.”
I studied his face for a minute, doing a little bit of math in my head. “Aurora’s why you moved out here.”
“She is.”
“You do a lot of things for the women in your life.”
He chuckled again, as he turned back to his sautéing vegetables, the sound smooth and deep, like melted chocolate.
“I guess I do.”
“How did you end up in New Orleans?”
A little tension came into his shoulders—I could see it in the way his thin suit jacket shifted across his back. He didn’t answer right away, just kept stirring around those vegetables. Then he dumped some liquid—I thought it was chicken broth—over them, causing steam to well up and turn into something of a mushroom cloud over his head. After he added a cup of rice and some fluid, he covered the pan and finally came over to stand on the other side of the breakfast bar.
“I attended Tulane for a while,” he said.
“Before or after culinary school?”
“After.” He pressed his hands to the top of the counter, staring down at them as though all the secrets of the world were hidden underneath. “I studied business. One summer, Aurora came down to take a few business classes, and we met. We couldn’t get enough of each other. When she returned to Portland, I followed.”
“Love at first sight.”
“Yeah.”
The TROUBLE with BILLIONAIRES: Book 2 Page 2
