by Gina LaManna
“Can you float somewhere else?” Dane pulled himself out of the water and sat along the edge of the pool. “There are a million other places for you to sunbathe. My lane is not for the casual swimmer.”
“I’m not a casual swimmer. I’m an accomplished sunbather.”
“Why do you insist on interrupting my schedule? I would be happy to meet with you in thirty minutes when I wrap up my exercise. You’ve already interrupted my routine yesterday, and I can’t fall behind. I’m already making up for it now, which means I’ll have to bump my nonfiction reading for this evening in order to achieve the optimal amount of sleep.”
“Optimal sleep of what, an hour and a half?”
“Three and a half hours, but I’ll need to make up for yesterday. Which means five and a half hours tonight.”
“You’re a robot.”
“I’m fully human.”
“Yeah, on second thought,” I said, scanning his body, “I can see that.”
Suddenly, the air turned incredibly warm. The sun beat down on my face, and I’m pretty sure that’s why my cheeks turned red. Not because he’d caught me watching the droplets of water cascade in rivulets over his abs. Again.
“Look, boss,” I began. “In a relationship, things are interrupted—exercise, reading, yes, sometimes even sleep. It’s not the end of the world. It’s just a fact of life, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve shifted your schedule around and whatever else I’ve done to upset you, but I’m trying my best here.”
He ran a hand over his face, spraying water from his hair as he slicked it back. The result was mesmerizing.
I fought off the distraction, this time focusing on his ear while I spoke because it was safer than staring into his eyes. “You hired a failing psychic, not the FBI. Please, have patience with me. I’m trying my best.”
“A relationship?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You said we’re in a relationship.” He reached out, his fingers gently brushing against my chin as he tilted my head to look at him. “By the way, is something wrong with my ear?”
“No, sorry,” I muttered, dragging my gaze to his nose instead. “Relationship, yes. You’re my boss, and I’m your employee. It’s just business. That’s all I meant.”
“Oh, I see.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, his eyes shifted away from mine. I couldn’t believe that the look in his eyes was disappointment—it wasn’t in his nature.
“I’m sorry, this whole thing was a stupid idea,” I said. “I’ll schedule an appointment with Nick or something and you can finish your workout.”
“No, wait…Lola.”
I’d already begun climbing out of the pool, and since one leg was on the ledge, I decided it was best to just keep going. “Really, I shouldn’t have bothered you. Sorry.”
“Lola!”
I kept walking, though I couldn’t say why. The shadow of disappointment in his eyes had distracted me, made me lose sight of why I was here. Why I was doing any of this, and I couldn’t let that happen. Because I was here for the money, and that was all.
“Hey, Lola. Look at this.”
A few feet from the edge of the pool, I paused. “Wha—”
I turned, my eyes widening as I realized what was happening a second too late. Dane had raised the noodle to his mouth and, just when I started to duck, he blasted me with a stream of chlorine straight to the noggin.
“You can’t use my weaponry against me!” I coughed. “I taught you that trick.”
“It’s a good one.” Mr. Clark winked. “I’m smart enough to adopt strategies that work for others.”
“Did you just wink at me?”
“I learned that one from you, too.”
Whatever I’d been walking away from moments ago, I forgot about it completely. I returned to the edge of the pool and dipped my legs into the water. Mr. Clark pulled himself up next to me. We sat for a moment, staring over the ripples in the pool from a sudden breeze.
I shivered, the sudden chill in the air prickling my skin. Mr. Clark reached back, nabbed a fluffy yellow towel from a nearby chair and wrapped it over my shoulders. He didn’t remove his hand from my shoulders until I turned, whispering a thank-you.
He let go quickly, as if he’d been burned. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Is now a good time?” I asked, giving a wry glance over our attire. “We can get dressed first if you’d like.”
“I have a better idea,” he said. “And it’ll help keep me on schedule. Follow me.”
Mr. Clark stood up first, extending his hand out for mine. I hid the surprise on my face as I grasped his hands and let him pull me to my feet.
“As you wish, Mr. Clark,” I agreed. “Where can I annoy you next?”
The sauna. That’s where I annoyed him next.
“You’re not supposed to put water on the rocks,” he said. “It ruins the temperature readings.”
“Yeah, but I’m cold, and this is helping.”
He looked at the ceiling. “I normally sit here for twenty minutes. Since you interrupted my schedule at the pool, I have eight minutes left. You may ask what you like during that time. Unfortunately, I must stay on schedule for my next appointment.”
“Understood,” I said. “Sorry again about the disruption.”
“I didn’t mind,” he said, his eyes focused on me. “I am finding that I quite enjoy our relationship.”
I spluttered a response until I remembered that he meant business. Literally. “Of course. Well, me too, I suppose.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. Now, you visited with Nick and Joseph?”
I launched into an explanation of the findings from my morning. The lightness that had so briefly danced in his eyes slid away like sand through an hourglass with every word of my story.
“That’s why I came to you,” I said. “Do you have any thoughts as to why Nick would submit a formal complaint on Joseph’s behalf?”
“Joseph never told me any of this.” Mr. Clark’s jaw was set. “Neither did Nicolas.”
“Maybe Joseph didn’t want to complain to his boss.”
“You have no problem complaining to me. Why should anyone else?”
I stifled a laugh—he was serious. “Yes, well. I’m different, and it’s not the best business practice to talk back to your boss.”
“Even so, I need to know these things. Joseph should have come to me, not to Nicolas.”
“Joseph probably didn’t want to let you down,” I said. “He probably knew he could get the job done and was just venting about the amount of work it’d take.”
“I expect my employees to work hard. I pay them to work hard. I pay them very, very well.”
“Believe me, I know,” I said. “And that’s why he didn’t complain to you. He knew he could do it, he was just moaning. Trust me, all normal people do it.”
“I don’t.”
“All normal people. You’re superhuman. You’re like Captain America.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Captain America?”
“No comic books either?”
“Historical books, mostly. Non-fiction. Of course I’ve read the classics in fiction, but most mainstream entertainment material was off limits while I grew up.”
“You deprived child,” I said again. “Forget it. You’re not like most people. You are extra-special, extra-talented. Most of us need to sleep for more than three hours a night, and most of us don’t exercise like a maniac. And we eat fat. We eat unhealthy things, and we like it.”
“Your point?”
“Is that I understand why Joseph didn’t file a complaint. I don’t understand why Nick filed it for him, unless he was trying to get Joseph in trouble.”
“In trouble for what?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure. Something that we haven’t figured out yet, I suppose. Or maybe Nick’s trying to direct the spotlight at someone else and deflect your attention away from himself.”
“You’re
suggesting Nick might’ve had a hand in the theft, and he’s trying to frame Joseph?”
“I’m just exploring all the possibilities. We can’t ignore the fact that Nick’s been Director of Operations for years, and all of the sudden he stepped in for this specific project to do the accounting. Was that your idea?”
Dane’s eyes darkened. “No, he suggested it. Warehouse 7 specifically. He said he wanted to be more hands on and, as this is our largest project in recent years, he wanted a piece of it. I wanted to keep him engaged in the work—he’s very good at his job—so I agreed.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
I shrugged. “I just feel like I’m the bearer of bad news. I know you and Nick are friends.”
“I’m running a business, and Nick is my employee.” Mr. Clark’s voice took on a monotone quality, almost as if he didn’t have time to sort through his emotions before he spoke, so instead, he banished them entirely. “Did you see the sign in log included in the files?”
“Yes.” I flipped through the folder that I’d recovered from my lawn chair before hitting the sauna. “According to the time stamps, the only people in Warehouse 7 during the time surrounding the theft of the blueprints are still working in the warehouse this week except for Joseph, who you moved to Warehouse 10, and one other employee named Burt Frank. He’s in the production line, and he called in sick today.”
“Sick?”
“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry,” I said. “But I do have one more question. What is this sheet?”
Mr. Clark leaned forward, glancing at the sheet I held out. “Oh,” he said. “I pulled that for you myself. That’s why it’s stapled separately from the rest.”
“What is it?”
“A log of the entries and exits of the Eagle Office.”
“Nick doesn’t have access to this?”
“No.” Mr. Clark’s eyes leveled on mine. “It’s on my personal security feed.”
“You don’t trust anyone with the information.”
“Checks and balances,” he said. “This is my check on those who hold power in the Eagle Offices. It’s nothing drastic, just a log of when the room was accessed and by whom.”
“According to this log for the last few weeks…” I reviewed it quickly. “Nick came and went quite often, as is normal. Joseph only entered the room a couple times—which I’d also guess is quite normal.”
“I would agree.”
“Joseph hasn’t had access since the blueprints were stolen. Which means if he’s involved with the petty cash theft, it would’ve been before the blueprints were taken.”
“Very good, Miss Pink.”
“And still…there hasn’t been any breech in security registered in the system. So that means...” I hesitated. “Either someone bypassed this security system—to the actual room, which requires a finger scan—or it was only Nick and Joseph inside during the time the thefts occurred.”
Mr. Clark wiped his forehead with a towel, sweat glistening over his torso. If his expression wasn’t filled with tension, I would’ve watched him for a few seconds longer. However, I averted my eyes until he wrapped the towel around himself.
“I need to get going,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
I shook my head, wrapping my own towel over my swimsuit. “Thank you for letting me steal your time.”
He stopped in his tracks. “You didn’t steal my time. I enjoyed your disruption.”
I offered a smile. “Oh, there is one more thing. I’d really like to get Gary back here so I can talk to him. Maybe quiz him as your personal assistant. We can pretend you’re interested in entertaining an option, and I can dig for information.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll invite him for cocktail hour tonight.”
“Oh, I can’t.”
“Can’t?” He nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “Your date.”
“Sorry.”
“Tomorrow then, I’ll arrange it with Mrs. Dulcet.”
“I can cancel the date,” I said, wondering why the idea hadn’t hit me sooner. I had been excited about meeting Luke for dinner, but for some reason, my excitement had waned over the last twenty-four hours. Probably the tight deadlines and the stress of a billion-dollar blueprint gone missing.
“You should go,” he said. “My butler says it’s excellent for humans to have social engagements.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you. Oh! By the way. You should try it sometime.”
Mr. Clark gave a half smile. “I prefer not to engage in unnecessary social situations.”
“Me too,” I said.
“Thanks for your work today. You did a fine job, Lola.”
“I’ll talk to Burt before I leave and get the rest of my notes written down and organized for your review tonight.”
“Will you be back before the morning?”
“Yes,” I said reflexively. “It’s just a first date.”
Mr. Clark smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.”
Then he left, leaving me all hot and annoyed in the sauna, wondering what on earth he’d meant.
This evening found me back at home, in Dotty Pink’s old place, leaning toward the mirror and smacking my lips at my reflection. Gerard had offered me a ride, but I declined, needing to feel the air on my face as I pedaled my bike along the coast.
I hadn’t done the red-lipstick thing in a while, but it was time. Time to enter the dating world again. It’d been too long. So long that I wasn’t even sure I knew how to date anymore. Did I wear high heels? Bring a purse? What if Luke tried to kiss me and it fizzled? What if it didn’t?
There had never really been anyone serious in my life—a man, at least. I’d been in one relationship for sixth months a few years back, but it just faded away. As with all my previous romances, it had gone the way of the dodo.
The curling iron had warmed during my session of worries, so I ran it through my hair curling the strands into waves. The process took me about fifteen minutes, and the curls lasted about two minutes. Then it was right back to my stick straight mop.
Sighing, I replaced the curling iron and went to work on getting dressed. The rest of my day had been relatively uneventful. Mr. Clark had scheduled back to back meetings after our sauna incident, so I hadn’t seen him again.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Dulcet had called Burt, the other employee in Warehouse 7, to the castle. I’d sat down with him in a conference room. Two minutes into the interrogation I realized that Burt was so sick there was no way he’d been faking. He sniffled, blew his nose, and hacked up both of his lungs in a ten minute period. It was disgusting.
“I’m sobby,” he mumbled, trying to shake my hand as he’d stood to leave the conference room. “I didn’t do anything. I stayed late to finish my work, I probise.”
“I believe you,” I said, worming out of the handshake and keeping my distance. “Go back home for the day. Tomorrow, too, please. Do everyone a favor. I’ll pass it along to Mr. Clark that you’re ill.”
This left me at home, standing in front of the mirror over my dresser, no real progress from my afternoon activities. Maybe I did need this date, even just for a break. It would be good to think about something other than Castlewood for a moment.
Already, theories from the investigation crowded my brain. It was almost too full in there to think. I needed perspective, a breath of fresh air, a chance to clear my head. Maybe if I could just focus on the evening and have a nice time with Luke...
“Ah!” I dropped the mascara wand, adrenaline racing at the sight of a face next to mine in the mirror. I whirled around, brandishing my curling iron like a sword. “Watch out, this is hot!”
Mr. Clark stood there, his eyes focused on the curling iron. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Are you kidding me?” My breath came in gasps. “What the heck were you trying to do, kill me?”
“Of course not. I was trying to talk to you.”
“Well, yo
u almost killed me. Don’t do that!” I shook my curling iron at him. “I almost branded you across the forehead. Do you know how badly that hurts?”
“I can imagine it’s not pleasant.”
“Your imagination is on point.” Finally, I set the curling iron down and closed my eyes as I sucked in a few steadying breaths. When I finally got my heartbeat into the non-lethal range again, I reopened my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I want you to meet someone,” he said. “As per our agreement.”
“I’m not sure I like the sounds of this,” I said, suddenly noticing the cracks and creaks from the floorboards below. “How’d you get inside, anyway?”
“Your lock is not challenging. I hope some of the money I’m paying you will be going to a new door.”
“Well, I suppose it’ll have to,” I said. “That lock worked fine for all my life so far though.”
“That’s before you knew me.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
His eyes flicked toward my attire, and I followed them. Thankfully, I’d finished the dressing process and looked somewhat decent. Easy-breezy fabric that was part sundress, part cocktail dress, fluttered jagged edges around my knees. I’d opted for a floral pattern with a demure white sweater, hoping the combination said fun and flirty... but not too flirty.
“You turned my life upside down, you know that?” I said, swiping a wand of clear gloss over my lips. Luckily, the mascara hadn’t needed redone after he’d startled me. “I never saw you coming.”
Dane made a sound in his throat. A noise I’d never heard from him before, as if he were distracted, not listening to a word I said.
I snapped a finger. “Hello?”
His eyes flew back to my face. “Yes, of course.”
I paused, at first confused. Then I caught the subtle tinge of red on the outskirts of his cheeks, and I realized he was embarrassed. “Of course… what?”
“You look beautiful, Lola.”
“Did your butler tell you to say that?”
“She doesn’t know I’m here.”
I blinked. “Mrs. Dulcet knows your every move.”
“Every move I want her to know. This move didn’t involve her.”
