G-Men: The Series

by ANDREA SMITH

  I was feeling better about it every day. It was the right thing for us. I knew it, and he knew it. Still, I found myself thinking about him during quiet hours, admitting to myself that during the small time I’d known him how much he’d managed to infiltrate my life…and during even quieter hours, my heart.

  I just needed something to keep me distracted, something that would fill up all hours of the day. As if my wish was granted, Colin came into my office with a folder for me.

  “Darcy, will you please book flights for both of us to London on the dates listed here in this file?”

  “Both of us?”

  “Yes, there’s a meeting of several competing contractors for contract renewal for Scotland Yard on all security software and electronic monitoring. Baronton currently holds the contract, but information Easton has gathered would indicate that an automatic renewal is not a given. Therefore, you’re going to get your first opportunity to create a presentation, and to personally pitch it to the sourcing contract administrators for Scotland Yard. It’s in three weeks, so you’ll have plenty of time to prep. I’ll coach you as needed. Contact Baronton’s travel agency, and get the flight and hotel dates confirmed immediately, since it’s not that far away.”

  I nodded my head, numbly. He continued, as if he hadn’t noticed.

  “In this file, there’s also contact information for Baronton U.K. Since we’ve not consolidated this entity in the U.S. yet, you’ll need to reach out to the R & D Director there. His name is Nigel Cranston, and he’ll need to provide you with all of the latest tech information pertaining to devices used by the client. According to Easton, the competition will be pitching some cutting-edge technology to the client. Easton requested you get with Cranston and get information on ‘Night Moves’ the yet-to-be-released tracking software Baronton Research is developing. Keep in mind that those individuals in R & D are a bit salty about the merger. So, if they pose any reluctance in helping you or providing information, I need to know straightaway.”

  He paused momentarily to assess me. “Darcy, I’m acquainted with Nigel Cranston. Pardon my boldness here, but perhaps video conferencing with him might be your best approach in turning salty to sweet.”

  I gave him a smile and a wink. “I’m on it, Colin,” I said self-assuredly.

  Darcy and Easton: Take Two.

  I’ll be ready for him this time.

  chapter 23

  I was sitting in first class with Colin next to me going over my presentation and the figures for the umpteenth time. It had to be perfect, not that I gave a shit about the sourcing contract administrators for Scotland Yard—yes, I know that should’ve been my first priority, but let’s get REAL here: this would be my debut performance with Easton in attendance. Failing was not an option!

  I’d timed it at least a dozen times, made back-up slides, memorized the slides, had Lindsey video-tape a walk-through test run fourteen times, spent hours searching for the right business attire, and of course, had gone to the salon for a make-over.

  Okay, now I have to be honest here. Curiosity had gotten the better of me once Taz had clued me in that Easton had been in love with a freaking runway model. So, as soon as I’d arrived home after my visit with them that evening, I’d “googled” the name ‘Bianca Templeton.’

  Holy fucking shit!

  Okay, I’m not trying to pass myself off as some gorgeous coulda-shoulda-been-a-model, because I’d never held myself to that level, but Christ! There was no fucking denying the resemblance between me and this chick. Yeah—she was a few years older, but damn she had the same long, dark hair as mine, and though she wore hers differently, it was close enough. My face was shaped just like hers, and our coloring was the same, except for the eyes: hers were lighter blue. Even our lips were similarly shaped. Of course, I’d pulled more photos of her off the internet, becoming slightly obsessive about it, once I’d seen the initial similarities. She wore her make-up differently, but that could easily be remedied.

  Apparently, Lacee had been straight with me about the whole Bianca thing. Fuck me. That son-of-a-bitch didn’t give a rat’s ass about me! Obviously, he was still infatuated with Bianca. I felt duped. No—I felt more than duped. I felt used! Easton’s whole “infatuation” with me was nothing more than a ruse to get me to be a surrogate fuck for that trick.

  Dude was apparently still hung up on her. If that’s the case, I was fairly certain he kept up with her current comings and goings. I’d immediately pulled up the most recent photos, showing her at last summer’s Cannes Film Festival. Bianca’s hairstyle had changed, and she’d added foil highlights. What the hell—why not?

  I’d handed the recent picture of Bianca to Monroe, my stylist, instructing him to make me look like that the previous day.

  “Honey, I don’t have that many years left in my career,” he teased.

  “Funny, Monroe, just do your best.”

  He worked feverishly, trimming my ends, putting in highlights, and finally using a gel-based straightener and flat iron.

  “You’ll need to flat iron this hair daily to keep that style,” he warned, shaking his head. “I’ve no clue why you wanted to do this to that gorgeous hair of yours anyway. Seems a shame to me, but you’re the customer,” he sighed.

  “Just needed a change, Monroe. Every now and then, change is good.”

  “I guess,” he replied, still shaking his head.

  Eli had looked me over suspiciously when I returned home that evening. “Okay, Darce, what’s this about?”

  “What’s what about?”

  “Are you entering some Bianca Templeton look-a-like contest? What’s the prize?”

  “Easton Matthews,” I replied, dryly, looking at my new hairstyle in the mirror. I loved it. Now I just needed to do my eyes like hers.

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” I replied, not taking my eyes from the mirror. “They were engaged to be married a couple of years ago. Hey, how do you know Bianca Templeton? Never mind, stupid question.”

  “Oh, my God,” he said, crossing his arms. “So Easton’s the dude that put the kibosh on her career?”

  “Apparently so, and aren’t you the little fountain of information there. I will ask how you knew all of that.”

  “Oh, sweetie, it was pretty big news in the industry—well, for those of us who actually follow it,” he said. “I mean, she went from totally chic to totally screwed within months. My God, I wonder how much it cost him to dismantle her career like that.”

  “I don’t have a clue,” I sighed. “Want me to ask him when I see him in London?”

  “Oh, oh—now I get it. You want to win him back, right?”

  “You’re delusional,” I said, shooting him a dirty look.”Hey, since you seem to be in the inner circle with international gossip, what’s ol’ Bianca doing these days?”

  “Hmm—well, I heard something about a year ago that she and her current lover, Christopher something-or-other are working together. He’s the photographer and she’s working for some French Modeling Agency as a scout/agent. Pretty far down the ladder from the bucks she used to make, I’d say.”

  “Poor Bianca,” I replied, very insincerely.

  “Darce—”

  “I know, Eli. I plan on being careful. I don’t want to jump back on that roller coaster again. I’m just going to totally enjoy fucking with that man’s world for a couple of days. Seems to me he has it coming, you know?”

  Eli crossed his arms, giving me a glare. “It’s been weeks, Darcy. I thought you were over it. Sounds kinda like you’re up to some retaliation if you plan on going to London looking like Bianca’s kid sister.”

  I gave Eli a wink. “You know what they say, Eli? Revenge is a dish best served cold. Won’t Easton be surprised by my new look?” I’d giggled and gone to my room to finish packing. Eli had shaken his head in frustration.

  “Darcy,” Colin said, “you’ve been over that bloody thing a million times. It’s fine,
now relax and try to get your rest. The meeting’s tomorrow, so you need to account for time difference, general jet lag and stress. Everything will be alright.”

  “I know, but this is my debut presentation. What if I screw up and lose the account?”

  “First off, you won’t screw up, and worst case scenario, it’s a small account, so I doubt whether Easton would fire you anyway,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

  “Oh, bloody hell,” I sighed, closing my laptop. “I guess you’re right.”

  He gave me a grin. “Starting to sound like a true Brit, I must say.”

  “It’s from listening to you yammer all day long,” I replied smiling. “Bad habit I picked up on the job, I guess.”

  Colin may have been too busy looking at my hair to have heard me. “By the way,” he said, and I didn’t like the puzzle-solving look in his eyes. “That’s a very interesting new hairstyle you’re sporting. I can see that you’re going all out for this presentation in every way.”

  I avoided eye-contact when his glance made it back to my face. But when I looked back over at him a moment later, his attention was turned back to the magazine he’d been reading.

  There was a hired limo waiting for us when the plane landed at Heathrow. I’d been to London several times, so at least it felt familiar.

  “Oh, by the way,” Colin began uneasily, “I meant to tell you I had our reservations at the Carlisle cancelled. We’re staying elsewhere this trip.”

  “The Langham?” I asked.

  “Uh, no. Easton insisted we stay at his manor here. There’s plenty of room and he wants a walk-through of the presentation in case any last minute changes need to be made.”

  “But you e-mailed him all the information last week,” I argued.

  “Apparently, since this is your solo flight, he wants to make sure for himself. He’ll critique it live before the meeting.”

  You don’t say? So, he wants to see the presentation before the meeting? I’ll give him one, alright.

  “He’ll be back at the manor around 6:00 this evening and dinner’s scheduled for sevenish. Don’t worry; you’ll be quite comfortable at Easton’s estate.”

  “Don’t you have your own place in London?”

  “I do. However, it’s a good hour’s drive from the estate. Depending upon how long our meeting with Easton goes this evening, I may try to make it back to my home. I haven’t seen my fiancé for weeks.”

  “Oh, Colin, you’ve never mentioned that you were engaged. Have you set a date?”

  “Indeed,” he said smiling. “September 14th. We’re getting married in New York.”

  “Well, congratulations to you and—”

  “Veronica,” he answered. “I call her Ronnie. She’s originally from New York. She worked for Easton at Baronton’s U.S. headquarters there, that’s how we met. Perhaps you’ll have an opportunity to meet her on this trip. I think the both of you would get on nicely.”

  “I’d love that,” I replied. It would be nice not to be totally surrounded by testosterone occasionally.

  Easton’s manor was breathtakingly beautiful, as I expected. It was more of an estate in my opinion with Tudor architecture, acres of rolling grass, with various well-groomed trees and shrubs, and a long winding drive once we passed through the gates that led up to the stone overhang. Once the chauffeur had removed our luggage from the trunk, the two people from the house staff, a fiftyish woman in a black dress with a crisp white apron, along with a man around the same age in black pants, a white-collared shirt, and black long-tailed jacket where standing on the steps ready to greet us.

  “Good afternoon Mr. Devers, Ms. Sheridan, welcome. I hope your trip was uneventful.”

  “It was splendid, Anna,” Colin replied, taking my hand to introduce me to these two members of the staff. “Darcy Sheridan, this is Anna Johnson, Easton’s head of staff here at Greystone Manor. I assure you, she’ll see to your every need.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Anna,” I greeted her warmly, shaking her hand. “I’ll try to keep my needs to a minimum.”

  She smiled warmly, wrapping her other hand around mine. “Now, you call on me anytime, day or night, Miss. That’s what I’m here for. Giles, don’t dally there,” she said sternly, talking to the servant beside her. “Ms. Sheridan’s in the guest suite on the east wing. Are you staying the night, Mr. Devers, or will you be returning to Chelsea later?”

  “Ah, I’m not sure, Anna. If I had my druthers, I’d be off to Chelsea. I have no idea how long Easton will keep us.”

  “What a shame,” she said, shaking her head. “I hope Mr. Matthews appreciates all that you do for him.”

  “He’s like a brother to me, Anna. His turn will come to accommodate me sooner than he anticipates,” he laughed. “Ronnie has her heart set on a four-week cruise and, to be honest, I’d prefer Easton’s wrath to hers.”

  “As well you should,” she said, shaking a finger at him. She turned to me, taking my arm. “Come dear, I’ll show you the way to your suite. I’m sure you’ll find it quite comfortable.”

  “Comfortable” turned out to be an understatement. My suite was 1800 square feet if it was an inch! It was decorated in period Victorian with a large living room, and a study off of that. A wide hallway led to the mammoth master bedroom, that had a walk-in closet/dressing room that was bigger than my bedroom at the apartment, and adjoining master bath that had yet another walk-in closet off of it, a huge marble shower, a bathing area with a huge, gold claw foot tub, and a separate room with the commode, which was a bidet. The fixtures looked to be original. My guess was this house dated back to the early 1900’s. It was exquisite.

  I put everything away in the closet that had built-in cedar drawers. I looked at my watch. Easton wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours, so I took advantage of the break and took a quick power nap. I bathed in the luxurious tub, then dressed for dinner, making sure to do the whole routine with the flat iron which, to be honest, was starting to be a pain in the ass.

  But no pain, no gain, right? I couldn’t wait to see the bastard’s face when he saw me and my new “look.” I may just have to introduce myself as Bianca when Easton tries to give me the ol’ professional hand shake.

  And I would do that…If I wasn’t so sure he could run faster than me, that is.

  “Don’t worry, Colin. Her screams will die down eventually. Shall we proceed with having port and cigars in the study?”

  Yeah, I would pass on that one, I’d decided, while putting some finishing touches on my hair. It had taken some artistic practice, but Eli said I had it down to perfection.

  “You could be sisters,” he’d told me when I’d given him a live demo. I was standing in my robe with my hair and makeup done just like Bianca’s had been in the photo. I slowly twirled in a circle, giving him the whole 360-degree view.

  He was quiet as he studied me for a moment. “Why are you fucking with him like this, Darcy?”

  “Because he lied to me,” I answered firmly. “He omitted the fact that I looked a lot like the last woman he may have actually truly cared for. I mean, yeah, he told me that I wasn’t anything like Lacee…but what about Bianca friggin’ Templeton? And then he just walks out of my life, expecting me to never have figured it out and call him out on that kind of bullshit? Yeah…fuck that and fuck him. It’s time a woman takes him down a few pegs.”

  “Careful, sweetheart,” Eli replied, as he leaned up against my bedroom dresser, “You’re starting to sound like one of those ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ chicks who sit up in their attic, planning some poor schmuck’s demise.”

  I considered that for a good second, looking down at the carpet. “This isn’t about that, Eli,” I finally said. “It’s about being lied to by someone who was clearly using me as a stand-in to…what? Prolong an ended relationship? To use me as some sort of fantasy in bed, so he could fuck ‘the one that got away’?” I looked back over at him.

  He s
hrugged. “I don’t know. And maybe it’s better that we don’t know.” He walked over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders, “I don’t get it. One minute, I could swear you love the guy, the next minute you’ve got this “evil vixen” thing going that I can’t comprehend.”

  I couldn’t say anything to that. I didn’t even fully understand why I was reacting the way I was.

  Eli pulled away from me, crossing his arms. “A piece of advice, Darce? When it comes to fucking someone over, don’t fuck with someone who knows how to fuck you harder.”

  I dressed in an elegant royal blue dinner dress with matching heels. I put my earrings in and took a final look in the mirror. I was ready. There was a knock on my door. It was Colin.

  “I’m heading down to the drawing room for cocktails,” he called from the hall. Easton arrived about twenty minutes ago. If you’re ready, I’d be happy to escort you down, since this house is cavernous; wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

  “Be right there.”

  Show time!

  I saw the quick look of surprise in Colin’s eyes when I opened the door. He quickly masked it, a smile twitching on his lips.

  “You look very lovely,” he complimented me. “Shall we?”

  Colin led me down the huge staircase.

  “We’re having cocktails in the drawing room before dinner,” he advised, leading me down a wide, marble-floored hallway. “After you,” he nodded as we reached the doorway.

  I saw him then, his back was to me as he poured amber-colored liquor into a glass with ice, and took a quick drink, pouring another.

  Freaking butterflies, I silently cursed my tummy.

  “Good evening, Easton,” I spoke, watching him whirl around to face me. His eyes immediately froze when he saw my changed appearance. I saw a flicker of anger cross his smoky gray eyes, and then a forced smile as he approached us. God, he was gorgeous in his black business suit and white linen dress shirt. His tie was royal blue, nearly the same shade as my dress.