The Mysterious Lost Child (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 2)

by Sarah Noffke

  Paris wrung his hand and introduced herself and Christine with their aliases.

  “Amelia asked that I give you a tour before you meet with her,” Bryce offered. “We are both very interested in what you can provide us from a consulting aspect that would allow us to level up our business.”

  “We’re looking forward to working with you.” Paris tried to sound professional but felt like an imposter. She never had to act professionally a day in her life and felt like there was a large sign on her head that said “spy.”

  However, Bryce didn’t seem to notice as he led them through a long hallway with glassed-in walls. Various things appeared to be on exhibit in the rooms. On the other side was another glass wall, but this one showed the view from the skyscraper's top floor, which gave an impressive view of the Thames River and London. Amelia Rose had built this company fast, and it appeared she’d dipped into Bryce’s pockets to fund it in style, which was information the fairy godmothers knew from the report.

  “I think seeing some of our cutting-edge concepts for future products will give you an idea of where the company is going,” Bryce explained. “Since you signed the NDA before you arrived, we have full confidence that what you learn here won’t be leaked outside these walls.” He narrowed his eyes. “We have a cutthroat competitor that will sink to sick levels to gain an advantage, even if that means stealing what rightfully belongs to us.”

  The headmistress and Mae Ling must have taken care of the nondisclosure agreement when they set up the appointment with Rose Industries.

  “This competition?” Christine prompted while striding beside them.

  Bryce paused at the end of the long, bright hallway that made it feel like they were on the roof of the building, out in the open since it was mostly glass. He pointed out the window to another tall skyscraper across the Thames. “It’s our neighbors there, McGregor Technologies. Their CEO will stop at nothing to try and ruin our good reputation, steal our employees to learn insider secrets, and race to secure patents before we can. Grayson McGregor doesn’t even go through the full testing procedures before he puts something on the market. We have it on good authority that their technology is probably responsible for several small office fires due to faulty wiring. That hasn’t been proved yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

  “What would happen to them?” Paris questioned.

  “Well, it would be enough to shut them down completely,” Bryce answered. “That would surely sully their reputation, and there would be no coming back from it. Then McGregor Technologies would have to close down, but knowing Grayson, he’d come back under a different name with another shady business model. It’s hard to kill a rat.”

  That sparked a hint of an idea in Paris. Not a full one, but something she thought she could flush out with more information.

  “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you our newest technologies.” Bryce led them back the way they’d come.

  For ten minutes, he droned on about advanced technologies that should have been of interest to someone. However, the CFO was about as animated and engaging as a box of Q-tips.

  “Now, if you follow me in here, I’ll take you to meet with our CEO, Amelia Rose.” Bryce approached one of the only solid doors on that floor since everything was mostly glass.

  He opened it to reveal a sleek office with modern furniture, a floor-to-ceiling glass wall at the back that had the same view as before, staring straight across the Thames River at McGregor Technologies. Sitting behind the desk was a beautiful woman who had her brown braid over one shoulder and wore a smart business suit.

  Amelia Rose looked up when they entered and stood to greet them. “You must be the consultants we’re looking to hire. Please come in.”

  The woman strode around the desk and offered them her hand. That’s when Paris noticed it and had to work to keep the look of worry off her face. On Amelia’s left hand and so big that someone could probably see it from outer space was a shiny and gaudy engagement ring.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Amelia Rose couldn’t be engaged to Bryce Tyler. That would put a wrench in the whole plan to hook her up with Grayson McGregor, her one true love.

  “Pleasure to meet you.” Christine stepped forward and shook the CEO’s hand, covering for Paris, who was still working to keep the dismay off her face.

  “I trust that Bryce gave you a good tour.” Amelia indicated the chairs in front of her desk as she resumed her seat. “Did you show them the over levels?”

  “I didn’t, dear.” He awkwardly stood to the side.

  Amelia glanced at him, and Paris wasn’t sure if the reaction was because he’d used an affectionate term for her in a professional setting or because he’d disappointed her with his bad tour-giving skills.

  “The tour was probably sufficient for us to start creating plans for Rose Industries.” Paris crossed her legs the way she saw ladies do on television.

  “I probably should have done it myself.” Amelia studied her computer screen momentarily. “It’s just that I’m busy with sending out a press release.”

  “I don’t think you should send that out, dear,” Bryce said with a tight smile.

  “I’m well aware of what you think, Mr. Tyler.” Amelia sounded overly formal, her tone clipped.

  “Press memo?” Paris asked.

  Amelia rolled her eyes and spun in her chair, putting her back to them as she stared across the river. “It’s a preemptive measure. McGregor Technologies has made private threats that they’ll expose bad working conditions in our factories, which would bring us a huge human resources headache, if not worse. You see what we’re up against and why we need to find a way to level up the company?” The CEO wore a furious expression when she turned back.

  Paris nodded. “I do. This press memo?”

  “Grayson is full of empty threats,” Bryce cut in. “Our factories are fine, and he’s only trying to goad you into this. If you release a preemptive press release stating that our working conditions are fine despite an anonymous claim, that’s only going to shine a spotlight on us. He’s trying to get us to hang ourselves with our own rope.”

  “If I wait to see whether it’s an empty threat and he does take something to the press,” Amelia began, her words terse, “I lose the advantage of cutting him off.”

  The couple stared each other down, frustrations bouncing back and forth between them silently. The tension was palpable.

  Paris glanced at Christine, who seemed to read her expression with a minute nod.

  “It sounds like a risky situation,” Christine supplied sensitively. “Have you tried talking with Grayson McGregor to come to a resolution?”

  Bryce laughed, but the sound lacked any joy.

  Amelia shook her head. “There’s no talking to that man. Every time I’m in the same room with him, he makes me so angry, I lose my words. He gets under my skin so badly.”

  Paris smiled inside. Getting under one’s skin was also code for chemistry in her opinion. If one didn’t care what another person thought or did, they wouldn’t have the power to irritate them. However, she suspected that Grayson had the reins on Amelia’s emotions and vice versa.

  The hint of an idea from earlier was starting to unfurl for Paris. She thought she knew where to start with getting these two love birds together, but it wasn’t going to be easy or straightforward, and it would require a hell of a lot more research and coordination. Since she had everything she thought they needed from Rose Industries, she wanted to visit McGregor Technologies to dig up information from their side. Time was a factor, and they couldn’t afford to stick around and watch Amelia give Bryce dirty looks any longer.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  This was definitely not good, Faraday thought as he backed up from the entrance guarded by the deranged magitech AIs. He consoled himself that the servants only came alive for one day a week, but what if they could overpower those wards now that they had a master to serve and therefore the motivation to do so?


  Furthermore, by the way that one of the Mary’s was sweeping with an imaginary broom and looking at him, he was starting to fear for his safety. “I think you’re overdue for a bath, Master. Why don’t I go boil you a bath?”

  “I’m good,” Faraday squeaked, scurrying several yards away to a grassy area. He was looking over his shoulder, his heart rapidly beating when he slammed into something solid that hadn’t been there a moment prior.

  The squirrel looked up at an Alfred whose leg he’d collided with. The butler had appeared out of nowhere, holding a pair of gardening shears that Hemingway must have left lying around. He motioned with them, making a chopping sound.

  “Would sir like his hair cut now?” the butler asked. “It’s overdue, and your tail is quite long. Actually, tails are out of fashion for lords of your stature. Why don’t we get rid of it entirely?”

  Faraday’s large eyes bulged even more, and he scampered around the butler, dashing between various servants stationed in multiple places. He would have tried to scale the stone walls around the Serenity Garden, but they were clean of vines that he could climb. The walls were slick and smooth as if polished regularly. They probably were.

  Feeling like he was running out of options, Faraday ran straight for a well in the middle of the garden. He planned to jump onto its high walls to get a view around the Serenity Garden to find options. However, one of the maids dove in front of him, her arms wide.

  “Sir, I really must ask that you tuck in for the night,” she said in a wicked voice, her eyes sinister. “You know how Master gets if he doesn’t get enough rest. Come here, and I’ll tuck you in properly.” She held her hands out in a choking motion.

  Not thinking of anything but self-preservation, Faraday threw himself into the air, flicking his tail to propel him in the direction of the well where he intended to overshoot the walls and risk falling into the center. He could swim if needed, but hopefully, he’d be able to climb back out once the servants took their breaks—if they took breaks.

  The squirrel flew through the air and expected to land in the dark and damp well in water. Faraday was surprised and a little bruised when he landed on top of a bunch of parts—not just any, though. They were pieces of the magitech AI servants, all dismantled and lying at the bottom of the well. They were exactly what the talking squirrel needed to get out of the Serenity Garden.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  “Oh, yes, more disguises,” Christine said with delight as she and Paris hid in a back alleyway on the other side of the Thames, opposite Rose Industries.

  It was time that they snuck into McGregor Technologies, but that would require a different appearance in case anyone was observing or sneaking around—like them.

  “How do you want to look?” Paris asked, tapping her chin. “Ever wanted a bob or black hair or to be pixie short?”

  “No, no, and no,” Christine stated. “I’d like to be blonde with shoulder-length hair and half-magician and half-fairy.”

  Paris tilted her head. “That identity is already taken and a little overrated if you ask me.”

  “I’m not.” Christine held her arms wide. “Make me look like Paris Beaufont. I want everyone to gawk at me, the girls to hate me, the boys to wonder, and—”

  “The evil mystery soul-eating entities to come after you,” Paris interrupted.

  Christine looked up suddenly. “Not that last part. On second thought, make me a guy named James who has a plain appearance and a forgettable face. I always thought that was the best appearance for robbing a bank.”

  “Christina,” Paris purposely said her friend’s name wrong to irritate her. “You can’t rob a bank after this…or before this…or really at all.”

  “Because…” Christine drew out the word and regarded her fingernails as though she was bored.

  “Because you’re a fairy godmother and our job is to create love around the world. Or at least not to destroy it with bank robberies and whatnot.”

  Christine shrugged. “You don’t know. Bank robberies might be what makes this world go ‘round. That might be the key to love.”

  “I doubt it,” Paris grumbled. “But if plain James is what you want, that’s what you get.” She flicked her wrist at her friend, and her appearance immediately shifted from pretty Christine with strawberry hair to a nondescript guy with drab brown hair who was instantly forgettable.

  “I like it,” Christine said, looking down at her appearance. She angled toward Paris. “And you?”

  “I’m going to be James’ middle-aged mom named Beverly, who is tired of putting up with his lazy ways.” Paris flicked her finger at herself. She shifted until she looked like a pudgy woman with curly brown hair and a frown-filled face with twinkling brown eyes.

  “What’s our cover for getting into McGregor Technologies?” Christine looked impressed.

  “Well, we already have appointments as consultants.” Paris held up the magitech badge. “Our credentials are whatever they think they are.”

  “Right on!” Christine cheered in a deep voice, throwing a fist in the air.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Whereas Rose Industries had a modern feel with its glass walls and high-security team at the elevators, McGregor Technologies felt more like they were walking into a cigar lounge.

  The wood-paneled walls in the lobby were rich and warm, making the space feel dark. There was a pretty woman with a perky blonde ponytail sitting behind an elegant desk. She smiled at the mother-and-son team when they approached.

  “You must be the consultants here to see Mr. McGregor,” the woman said, flipping through an appointment book. “He should be able to see you right away, but first, can I see some ID from you both?”

  Both, Paris thought. At Rose Industries, the security guard only needed to see hers. She only had one magitech ID badge.

  She pointed at the guy next to her and shook her head. “This is my son, James. I can vouch for him. He doesn’t have any identification because he can’t get his lazy butt off the sofa long enough to get one. Hopefully, my credentials are enough.” Paris flashed the badge, and the woman’s eyes widened.

  “Well, it makes sense that Mr. McGregor would hire only the best design consultants for this project,” the secretary said, an impressed look flitting across her face. “Michelle Bordeaux, I’ve heard you’re the best interactive designer in the world. Your adventures are world-renowned.”

  Not having expected this, Paris simply nodded.

  “My mom is the best,” Christine said, her voice deep.

  The secretary nodded. “I can’t wait to see what you do with the space. I’ll take you to meet Mr. Grayson. He’s excited about the project.”

  Paris nodded again, not sure what to say and thinking that she might blow her cover if she said anything at all. She and Christine followed the woman through a door at the back of the room. Paris turned and mouthed to Christine, in the form of frumpy James, “Interactive designer?”

  Christine smirked, apparently finding this all entertaining.

  Paris didn’t even know what an interactive designer was. What did it mean that this woman, Michelle Bordeaux, created world-renowned adventures? She knew she’d find out, but she hoped that she didn’t have to say much in the process.

  At Rose Industries, Paris had collected a good bit of information that she thought could work for the plan starting to unfurl in her mind. However, the project would need more. Plus, she needed to know what was happening at McGregor Technologies.

  Dark wainscoting covered the bottom of the hallway's walls, and a blue and green plaid wallpaper covered the rest.

  The carpet running down the length of the corridor was a warm green. Paris suddenly felt like she was in a hunting lodge—not that she’d ever been in one.

  The secretary led them to an office at the back of the hallway. All the other doors were closed, not giving Paris any clues about what went on at McGregor Technologies.

  The woman knocked on the door and waited briefly before openi
ng it and poking her head inside. “The design consultants are here to see you, Mr. McGregor.”

  “Please send them in,” a man directed from inside the office.

  The secretary opened the door for Paris and Christine, welcoming them into the office. It was similar to the lobby with dark wooden furniture. Thick curtains hung in the large windows and old books lined one wall.

  Behind the desk was a very handsome man with short brown hair and kind blue eyes. He wore a navy blue suit and showed a dimple when he flashed a toothy grin. “You’re the consultants from Escapism Designs?” There was an edge of doubt in his voice.

  The secretary nodded. “Yes, they sent Michelle Bordeaux.”

  The look of skepticism fell off Grayson McGregor’s face. “Oh, wow. That’s very impressive. What an honor.”

  “And my son, James Bordeaux,” Paris said, indicating Christine next to her.

  Grayson stood and strode around the desk, similar to Amelia Rose's approach during their introduction. He offered a hand to her. “I apologize for sounding uncertain earlier. It’s just that although I’ve never met or seen any game designers, I’ve heard they’re usually young and hipster types. You’re—”

  Game designer? Paris wondered. What the hell did that mean?

  “Old and pudgy,” Paris supplied seriously. Once Grayson started to look a little offended, Paris laughed, dismissing his nervousness. “Oh, I get it. Most don’t think I look like a game designer, but I assure you, I’m the very best, so appearances can be deceiving.”

  Grayson chuckled. “You have quite the reputation, and now I’m really excited to see what you can do for me.”

  That was the question that worried Paris. What exactly did Grayson want them to do for him? How could she use that to find helpful information for how to pair him with Amelia?