by G. K. Parks
“Alex,” Martin turned to me, “these are a few of the board members. You might remember meeting them on Friday. Yuri Oskilov, Samantha Miller, Marcy Ryan, and Charles Roman.”
“Nice to officially meet all of you.”
“James, how long are you going to be gone?” Samantha asked curiously.
“And where are you going?” Marcy chimed in.
“I don’t know yet.” Martin wrapped his free hand around my waist and held me close. I played along and clung to his side, placing my arm around his back and my martini-holding hand against his chest, carefully so as not to spill, like the doting girlfriend would. “We’ll figure something out though.” He spoke as if we had a romantic vacation planned.
“Of course, we will.” I tried not to act as confused as I felt. The Board knew of his threats and required his additional security, so why the secrecy? Maybe Martin had the same inkling I did; the person or persons responsible could be his trusted board members.
“After all that threat business and the explosion outside, it’s good you’re getting away while you can,” Yuri said knowingly. “Are you still working with the same security firm?”
I tensed slightly. Obviously, the Board was oblivious, but Martin played along. “Yeah, they’ve updated my personal security and are working on a few leads. It’s all very hush-hush, though.”
“Well, a trip will be good. Get away, and maybe they’ll nail the bastards before you get back,” Charles interjected.
“We can only hope,” Martin said. “If you’ll excuse us, I owe someone a dance.”
“So lovely to meet all of you,” I said as he dragged me away. We put our half-empty glasses on a tray as a server walked past. “You realize now we actually have to dance,” I muttered, less than enthused.
He grinned and pulled me onto the dance floor, drawing me close. One hand rested on my waist, and the other held my hand. “It won’t be so bad. I’m an excellent dancer.”
“Modest, too.”
“Don’t be snarky.”
He attempted to lead, and I failed to follow. This was our constant problem. Whether we were dancing or not, we both wanted to be in charge. Eventually, he gave up and dropped my hand. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he put both hands on my waist. I leaned in close; my lips inches from his ear.
“What was that about?” I asked. “Do you really have a boardroom of complete idiots who can’t put two and two together and get four?”
“They believe what they like.” His lips brushed against my ear, sending chills down my spine. “But they bought that you’re my personal assistant. Just some girl I hired, and it has nothing to do with the threats I was getting. Mission accomplished. I mean, really, they wanted updated personal security, not office security. Why would my bodyguard go into a building where we already have hired guards?”
I wasn’t sure if I should be offended. “That’s why you needed to hire Bruiser and Killer,” I reminded him.
“It’s a party. Let’s just have fun.”
He was tired of arguing. I laid my head against his shoulder as we swayed back and forth. I was tired of this too.
“Mind if I cut in?” Denton’s voice cut through our peaceful moment. I turned and looked at him and then back at Martin, who was already stepping away.
“Be my guest,” Martin told him. I gave him a questioning look. “Come find me when you’re finished dancing.” He winked and headed back to the bar.
“I have to warn you I’m not much of a dancer, Mr. Denton.”
“Please, it’s Blake.” He put his hand on my waist and took my hand, giving it a slight kiss. I could smell alcohol on his breath, and I wondered if drinking was part of the CEO’s job description. “Maybe you just don’t have a strong enough partner.” I remained silent. “How long have you and James been together?”
He’s just making polite conversation, Parker. I tended to be suspicious even when things were completely innocent. “Honestly, I’ve lost track.” Denton considered my words but didn’t say anything. “Are you here with your wife? Girlfriend? I don’t want anyone to get jealous.” I hoped to find an excuse to go find Martin. I didn’t like leaving him unguarded, despite the secure setting.
“No, I’m the consummate bachelor, as of recently. The last girl I dated, Jill, didn’t work out so well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I couldn’t have cared less. Denton’s hand traveled lower than my waist, and I resisted the urge to break his fingers. “I need to get some air. It’s a bit stuffy in here.” Do not cause a scene, especially with the acting-CEO of the company, I instructed myself as I tried to escape without incident.
“What a good idea. I’ll join you.” Denton followed me to the balcony, which was the absolute last thing I wanted.
A couple was making out in the corner, but we paid them no heed. Leaning over the railing, I checked for guys in combat gear who might be hiding in the bushes. Denton was uncomfortably close and getting closer by the second.
“So,” he leaned in further, “what exactly did you have to do to get the job at MT?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know what I mean.” He ogled my cleavage. “Come on, you gave it to the boss real good, and you got a nice cushy job, I bet.”
“Not quite.” I struggled to remember I was the girlfriend and not an ex-federal agent who could put this guy on his ass at a moment’s notice. “It just happened M...James knew I needed a job, and there was an opening.”
“Oh, I bet there was.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Denton, I need to find James.”
But he blocked my path. “You know, if you still want a job, you could come back and work for me since it doesn’t look like you’ll be working anytime soon with Jimmy,” his voice dripped bitterness, “being on sabbatical for an extended amount of time. If he gets tired of you, you’ll be back to nothing. Whatever your existing arrangement is, I’ll double it. If you give me a raise, I’ll give you one.”
That was it. I backhanded him across the face. It took almost all my willpower not to punch his lights out or throw him over the balcony.
“Go to hell, you sick fuck.”
Dazed, he leaned against the balcony railing for support. Had it not been there, he’d be on the ground. I turned toward the door. Martin was making his way quickly across the room. He must have seen the whole thing, along with the large group of gawking guests.
“Are you okay?” Martin asked anxiously from the doorway. I clung to him, trying to resume the role I was supposed to be playing.
“Can we get out of here?” I hoped to avoid any further incidents. He held me in his arms, glancing at Denton.
“It was just a misunderstanding.” Denton apparently recovered somewhat. “I misspoke. Probably shouldn’t have drunk so much.”
Martin moved to push me aside, seeming to want to go out there. I didn’t know if he would help that horrible, vile creature or knock the guy’s teeth out, so I remained blocking his path.
“We should go,” I whispered insistently.
“Get yourself cleaned up, and stay the hell away from Alex,” Martin growled, his voice dripping venom. He took a breath and addressed the crowd. “Nothing to see here. Blake’s just had a few too many. Someone make sure he doesn’t drive himself home.”
Martin put his arm around my shoulders and escorted me through the crowd toward the front door. Hotel security came inside to check on the commotion. Too little, too late, guys, I thought as they ambled past. The group of board members from earlier gathered near the exit.
“Never a dull moment around here,” Marcy said to us.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” Samantha asked, but before I could answer, Martin replied.
“It’s fine. I’m taking Alex home. Blake can be licentious when he’s drunk.”
“Did you see how she slapped the shit out of him?” Charles seemed impressed, and I resisted the urge to grin.
“Just keep an eye on him at work, and make sure he d
oesn’t get handsy with the business or the employees,” Martin warned them.
We bid the group good night and exited the hotel lobby. Marcal was waiting for us out front. When we emerged, he started the car and brought it around. The photographers were still outside, and I was temporarily blinded by the flashes going off. Hopefully, the incident wouldn’t be in the paper. The valet opened the door, and I slid into the car. Martin tipped the man and joined me inside.
“You know, if you wanted to leave early, we could have, without all the dramatics.” He tried levity. I shrugged and fidgeted with the seatbelt. “What happened?” he asked, the concern evident in his voice.
Nineteen
I gave Martin the play-by-play of what happened from the time Blake cut-in until I slapped the hell out of him. Martin listened, never interrupting, until I finished the story.
“Son of a bitch.” His green eyes were on fire. “I’m sorry. I never should have left you with him. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” I parroted his words back to him. “Plus, what’s not to love about getting to assault someone?” I paused. “Do you think he’ll press charges?” I was making a joke, but he ignored it. I felt degraded by the horrible things that despicable man said, but I wasn’t Martin’s girlfriend or secretary. It was part of the role I was playing. “I never realized I was such a damn good actress, did you?” Humor and sarcasm were my go-to responses in difficult situations. “Maybe I should be nominated for an Oscar, or at least the Golden Globes. Hell, he stared at them long enough.”
“He has no right to talk to you or anyone else like that.” Martin was livid, and his anger helped keep mine in check. “I should fire him or request his resignation. I wish I had gone out there and kicked his sorry ass.”
That answered my question about what he had intended to do on the balcony. I leaned my cheek against the cool glass of the window. I wanted to apologize for putting him in this position, but it was not my fault. Parker, you did not do this; you didn’t do a damn thing. To avoid any more theatrics, I took a deep breath.
“Who would have thought you’d be saving me tonight?” I asked, and he cracked a smile.
“Does this mean I get to wear the tights and cape for once?”
I punched his arm playfully. “Don’t start. I already took down one guy tonight. That number could easily double.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” I crossed my arms across my chest, and he took his jacket off and wrapped it around me, scooting closer. I rested my head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around me. It was nice not feeling like a piece of meat. “What are you going to do?” Causing more waves or forcing him to go back to work wasn’t the best plan.
“I don’t know. The Board can keep an eye out, short-term. We’ll just see what happens.”
“Any previous complaints against him?”
“Not that I know of.”
“No history of sexual harassment or history of substance abuse?” I needed to figure out where the off switch was to my questioning.
“I don’t think so.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it from the angle we were sitting. “Maybe it’s just the job.”
“If I’ve ever come off that way, I’m sorry.”
“You could be worse.” I poked him in the ribs. “If you were that bad, I wouldn’t be here, and you would have been slapped a long, long time ago.” We rode the rest of the way in silence.
Marcal pulled the car into the garage and wished us a good night. I took my shoes off and carried them up the stairs. No need to walk in them any longer than necessary. I had already dealt with enough tonight.
I headed straight for my room and changed into baggy sweats, unpinned my hair, and washed my face. It was my way of counteracting the sleaziness of the evening. I hung the dress on the hanger, put the shoes in their box, and put them in the closet before returning downstairs. Martin had taken off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, but he was already staring at the faxes he received earlier.
“Workaholic,” I muttered, making my way to the kitchen.
I rummaged through the cabinets and pantry, looking for something to eat. When stressed out, eat, yet another one of my philosophies. Not to mention, with the exception of a few hors d’oeuvres, I hadn’t had anything since breakfast. I found a box of crackers and some hard cheese in the fridge. This would suffice.
I was slicing the cheese when Martin entered the kitchen. “Hungry?” I asked, not looking up.
“Yes,” he said in an odd tone.
I turned to find a puzzled expression on his face. “What?”
“Why are you eating that?”
“Because I’m hungry. Didn’t we just establish this?”
“Yes,” more bewilderment, “so why aren’t you eating a real meal?”
“Seriously?” I couldn’t get a break tonight. I pointed to the clock. “It’s after eleven. I’m not in the mood to cook, and you have no microwavable dinners. Cheese.” I held up the cheese. “Crackers.” I held up the box. “Works for me.”
He chuckled. “Sit down.” He took the knife from my hand and put it on the cutting board. “Sit.” He gently pushed me toward the table.
“Fine, but if I break a tooth chewing on the tabletop, I’m holding you responsible.”
He begrudgingly handed me the plate with the cheese and the box of crackers. I smiled sweetly and opened the box.
He got out a skillet, chopped an onion, and tossed it into the pan. He grabbed a bag of pre-cooked shrimp and set it in the sink with the water on to thaw. He cut and chopped more ingredients, and within twenty minutes, he presented me with a meal.
“Showoff.” I went to get the dishes, but he stopped me.
“Relax.” He turned around and got the plates. He wanted to make up for what happened earlier.
“I’m fine.”
“I know.” I could hear the smile in his voice, even though his back was to me. We sat down to eat. It always felt so formal, sitting at a kitchen table and eating meals together. “Tomorrow, we’ll get the manufacturing plant footage and maybe make some headway.”
“Hopefully. I know it’s been about a month or so since it happened. Are you sure you still have the footage saved?”
“We should. Everything is backed up and stored in case of anything.” He sounded slightly unsure. I guess we’d find out tomorrow.
“Well, on the bright side, it can’t make things worse.” Something else was bothering him. Given the list of things that had been going wrong in his life, I didn’t think I was a good enough investigator to determine exactly what the cause of his current distress was without asking a few key questions. “What’s wrong?” My deductive skills knew no bounds.
“Nothing. I’m just stumped by the missing funds. They don’t appear to be anywhere.”
“As in they never existed?”
“They existed,” he insisted. “They were earmarked for this acquisition, but I can’t trace them. I thought they might have been in a different account, but I don’t see a surplus in any of those.”
“Could there have been a loss from a different account that was nullified by reallocating the acquisition funds, so maybe you wouldn’t notice they were moved?” I grasped at straws. Accounting was not my thing.
He thought about it for a moment. “No, it would be very unlikely the same amount would be involved.”
“True, coincidences like that aren’t very probable.” I bit my bottom lip, trying to come up with some out-of-the-box explanation. The problem was, when money went missing, it was almost always because someone took it. “Who had access?”
“Denton, the accounting department, the other board members, and me.”
“Pretty much narrows it down. I’m going to rule you out, just for argument’s sake.”
“Thanks.”
“Given my current feelings toward Denton, I say let’s add embezzlement to his list of attributes and call it a night, but just in case I�
��m letting my personal opinion get in the way, I have a forensic accountant friend at the Bureau. She can follow the money. I’ll give her a call in the morning and see if we can get this figured out.”
“Maybe tomorrow we can kill two birds with one stone.”
“Here’s to hoping.”
We cleaned the kitchen in a comfortable silence. The night had worn me out. Once again, the ball was rolling, and things were about to be set in motion. Maybe life would return to normal sooner rather than later.
I settled on the couch, flipping through channels until I found a movie to watch. Martin was down the hall in his office, still going over the accounts. I glanced at the monitor to make sure the security system was operating. Everything looked quiet. I stretched out and closed my eyes, listening to the dialogue and thinking about the night’s events.
A few minutes later, Martin poured himself a drink from the bar. “Make that two,” I said, sitting up.
“I thought you fell asleep.” He filled a second glass.
“No, I was just thinking.”
“About?” He handed me the drink.
“Life. Nothing important.”
He chuckled.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” I jerked my head toward his office, “get back to work.”
“I’m done for the night. What are you watching?”
“Sherlock Holmes.”
“Looking for pointers?” he teased.
“Couldn’t hurt.” I played along.
I wondered how the hell we became so buddy-buddy in such a short amount of time. Wasn’t this the same man I was screaming at two days ago? Maybe tonight had changed him for the better, or maybe it made me more tolerant since he wasn’t the worst person to deal with. Either way, it was an improvement on the way things had been, if it lasted. We watched the movie for a while. When it was over, he looked at me.
“I’m going to get some sleep.” He got up from the couch. “You know, you are allowed to do the same.”
“I know.” I wasn’t a great sleeper in a strange environment, and I had the tendency to feel the need to patrol the premises since I was both security consultant and personal bodyguard simultaneously. I turned the television off and stood up.
