Risky Business

by Bethany Jadin

  “Well,” Cora says, “we’re not sure where this fits into the grand scheme of things...”

  “But it might make a difference on how you feel about things,” Callie says.

  Uh oh. I’m not sure if I want to know. I don’t think I can handle any more bad news. “What is it?” I ask, my body already tensing in apprehension.

  “Well,” Cora begins once more. “We’ve been going on these business dates with the guys for a couple years, and you know, sometimes there’s been a lot of alcohol involved…”

  Oh, God. Nooooo. They’re about to confess they screwed the guys during a drunken night of sloppy piles, aren’t they? I want them to stop talking, immediately. Just shut up right now. But instead, I stare at them, a growing feeling of horror seeping into me.

  “Yeah,” Callie nods. “And the thing is, once they’ve had enough to drink, they get chatty.”

  For fuckssake. I let out a breath of relief.

  “Even the ones who are usually men of few words — you know who I’m talking about,” Cora says, giving me a knowing look.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say, nodding in agreement. But I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and my mind is going a million miles a minute, wondering where this is going. “The guys get chatty about what? I mean, you told me about Jax beating the crap out of Jeremy.”

  Zoey’s eyes go wide. “What’s this? Man! I go out of town for the first time in years, and I miss everything!”

  I shake my head. “No, this happened a while ago,” I explain. “According to the pubic police records, it was right after the Selsford Institute Gala.”

  “Oh, okay,” Zoey looks both placated and confused.

  I turn to the sisters. “I looked into it,” I admit. There’s more to say, but I pause, not sure I want to reveal exactly how I looked into it. “From what I found, I seriously think he was out to kill him. Like, if the cops hadn’t arrived just then, Jeremy would have been a goner.”

  Callie motions to my empty wine glass, and I hold it out as she leans over to pour me a nice, tall glass of Malbec. “That sounds about right,” she says. “We didn’t know the connection between you and that Jeremy guy back then, and by the time we met him at the fundraiser for the clinic, his name had totally slipped my mind.” She tips her head toward her sister. “Cora’s the one who remembered it when we were driving over to your parents’ house. But, whatever happened a few months ago, he managed to really piss Jax the fuck off.”

  “Apparently,” I say with a nod.

  I have my theory about what it was, but I’m not ready to share my thoughts aloud, not yet. There’s a slew of words on the tip of my tongue, but I take a big drink of wine instead of saying them. I don’t think Jax’s brutal run-in with Jeremy was due to something recent. In fact, I think it goes back quite a few years. All the way back to when Jeremy ran off with the drone program.

  My gut tells me that the night at the Gala is when Jax made the connection between me, Jeremy, and the data he’d erased. And he wanted to make Jeremy suffer for it — why, exactly, I’m not sure. Maybe for hurting me. Maybe for getting Pentabyte tangled up in Jeremy’s mess. Whatever the reason, he didn’t seem to give two shits about getting caught beating Jeremy to death, so clearly, he was trying to punish himself, too. Spent several nights in the slammer before the judge released him on bail. And then the charges were miraculously dismissed a few weeks later.

  “Well, last night, we remembered another conversation,” Cora tells me. “About Daniel.”

  “He didn’t beat the shit out of Jeremy,” Callie adds quickly, “but it sounded like he wanted to.”

  “Feed him enough cognac,” Callie suggests, “and I bet he’ll tell you why he didn’t re-up his contract with the Department of Defense, even though he was offered a shit ton of money to stay on.”

  “Even before Trigg was discharged from service, Daniel had already made up his mind to get out of government contracting — because of Jackass Jeremy,” Cora says.

  “It’s one of the few times I’ve ever heard him curse — the night he told us the story,” Callie says, an eyebrow raised. “Said it was guys like that who made the world a fucked up place for good people. He told us how he tried to make the brass aware of his suspicions, but they didn’t care. He said he couldn’t work for people like that anymore.”

  Shit, why are my eyes getting watery? I take another sip from my glass and look at the ceiling. I wonder why the guys didn’t lead with this info at the meeting we just had. Why they didn’t try to plead their cases, to explain away all the things that Jeremy showed me in that damn folder. Maybe they thought it would piss me off more. They didn’t know my mental state when they requested the meeting. I could have been livid and out for blood, for all they knew. Maybe they figured I’d get up and leave if they started down a list of things that might have sounded like excuses to angry ears.

  “Thanks for sharing that, ladies,” I tell Callie and Cora. We all grow quiet for a moment, and I squish my lips to the side, working up the courage to say the words aloud. I don’t want to voice it unless I really believe it. But I do. “You know, ultimately, I think the guys have their hearts in the right place.”

  Cora nods. “We’ve known them a long time. And I’ve been thinking about all of this, too, because it bothers me that they’d keep things like that from you. But I don’t think they were doing it to be malicious.”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so, either. I can’t bring myself to believe they’d do anything to hurt me, no matter how hard Jeremy tried to twist it. I think the guys honestly have the best of intentions when it comes to me. Yeah, maybe they kept all this from me for selfish reasons — worried it would scare me off or make me think less of Pentabyte before I had a chance to get to know them like I have. I can’t totally blame them for being concerned about that. I detest Jeremy so much, I might not have given them a fair shot. But God, I wish they weren’t still hanging around with that asshole. I just... I don’t want him anywhere near my life — personal or professional.”

  Zoey lays a hand on my thigh, grounding me. “Remind me how you feel about Maria?”

  “Who?” I blink at my best friend, racing to try to place the name.

  “You know, the nurse who was sleeping with Doctor Maxwell?”

  “Ugh. Yes. I can’t believe she banged Doctor Grabby Hands.” A shudder runs through me, and I make a revolted face.

  “Yeah, and remember how he pulled strings to move her from third shift to first?”

  “Yes. God, she’s awful.”

  “She is,” Zoey nods. “We all wanted to play darts with a picture of her face. But... did you, or did you not, do Jagerbombs with her at the Christmas party?”

  I sit straighter. “Hey, that’s not fair,” I protest. “I wasn’t going to avoid a company party just because she was there. There were plenty of other people there that I do like.”

  “But that doesn’t apply to Gunner and Trigg and Jude? They attend all sorts of functions as part of their jobs, right? And Jeremy happens to be present at some of them. Rubbing shoulders with assholes sometimes comes with the territory of running a business.”

  “God, I missed you so much,” I tell Zoey, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands. “Even if you are a know-it-all. And a pain in my ass, because you’re always right. But, you’re the most lovable pain in the ass ever.”

  I lean toward her, taking her hand in mine, and give it a squeeze. She beams and takes a deep breath, letting it out with a contented smile. She is always the voice of reason, and I’ve missed talking with her face to face. But I also love that blissed-out relaxed thing she has going on, and I want to keep that smile on her face as long as I can. Tonight isn’t about the guys or my overload of feelings — it’s supposed to be a fun night with my best friend. It’s time for a subject change, to get this celebration going.

  “Ladies, this wine isn’t going to drink itself,” Callie says in a reprimanding tone, as though she can read my thoughts. “
Let’s get to it.”

  “On it!” I say, tipping my head back and finishing my wine with a few big swallows. My glass empty, I look at my three friends solemnly. “Now, we need to get serious, here. We have a lot of bottles of wine. It’s going to be a tough job. So...” I break out into a mischievous grin. “I suggest we play Never Have I Ever.”

  Zoey flops her head back against the couch. “Jesus Christ. I always lose at that game! I’ve done everything!” she groans.

  “Oh?” Cora sits forward, looking like the cat that ate the canary. “Well, you’ve never played with me. I might give you a run for your money.”

  Callie points at her sister with an emphatic nod. “No joke. This is the Queen of Never Have I Ever, right here.”

  “What do you think, ladies? What bottle should we kick this off with?” I peek into the boxes, and Cora lifts one out, twisting it to show us the label. “May I present the best Sauvignon Blanc you’ll ever drink.”

  She opens the bottle and reaches out to splash some into our glasses.

  I swish the liquid around and take a sniff then a big mouthful. “Oh, damn. That’s good.”

  “Right?” Cora agrees. “Daniel has excellent taste in wine.”

  I raise my eyebrows as very fond memories run through my head. “Among other things,” I say with a wry smile.

  22

  Daniel

  I don’t know if I’ve ever been so damn nervous.

  When Jude received the I’m ready to talk text, we all attempted not to get our hopes up. But what can I say, I’m an optimistic kind of guy. I’m hoping her request for a second meeting is good news — I can’t stomach the alternative. None of us can.

  I’m also hoping she’ll be staying long enough to join us for a drink this time. What I don’t know is what Emma will want. Her tastes range from simple to exotic. So, I’ve ordered a glass of the finest Pinot the bar has, as well as an iced tea, a bright pink Cosmo with an extra splash of Cointreau, and a glass of ice water with a lemon on the side.

  I check my watch and wonder whether she’s eaten dinner yet. Probably not, I’m guessing, as it’s a bit early for her — she always seemed to eat later in the evening. As we wait, I debate if I should order a round of shareable appetizers, or if that’s pushing it too far with setting expectations for this meeting. My nerves are getting the best of me tonight, and I’ve been second-guessing everything, even changing my tie three times while I was getting dressed earlier. And I’m not alone — the nervous energy at this table between the five of us could fuel an aircraft carrier.

  My chest tightens as I catch sight of Emma making her way toward us, the folder Jude gave her at the last meeting tucked under her arm. She’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans and looks every bit as stunning as she does in an elegant evening gown — maybe even more so, tonight especially, since I’ve been missing seeing her beautiful face more than words could ever express. I don’t care what she wears, just as long as I get to see her.

  I stand to greet her, and everyone rises with me just like last time. I make a mental note of the display of good manners around the table — there’s hope for these guys yet. Jude, at the head of the table, steps around to pull out her chair as we greet her with a chorus of hellos and hopeful smiles.

  “We’re all eager to hear what you’d like to talk to us about,” Jude says as Emma takes a seat and allows him to guide her chair in. “Can we get you anything first?”

  She blinks, staring at the collection of drinks in front of her. “Looks like someone already took care of that.”

  “Yes, he did,” Trigg says, nodding his head toward me. “Please, drink something before he orders the rest of the bar menu.”

  “Okay,” she says, and my heart lifts as I detect a hint of a smile on her lips. She pulls the iced tea closer and reaches for the caddy filled with sugar packets, but I hold up a quick hand.

  “I already mixed in four. I couldn’t remember if it was four or five packets, though,” I say, my nervousness causing the words to come out in rapid-fire staccato. “So, it might need another.”

  She studies me with parted lips for a moment, and I can’t tell if she’s annoyed at my presumption… or something else. But after a second, she picks up the glass of iced tea and takes a sip. “Ah,” she says, licking her lips. “I don’t know how you remembered that, but you’re right, it’s four. And it tastes perfect — thank you.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding and mentally will myself to relax as she takes a bigger drink before setting the glass down.

  “Do they have calamari here?” she asks, looking at Jude for an answer. It’s his favorite bar, so if anyone knows, it’s him.

  My pulse quickens at her question. She’s talking food, which means she’s planning to stay a while. So, it must be good news she’s bringing us tonight, right?

  Jude signals the waiter to come over then turns back to Emma. “They do. It’s not the best dish they make, but it’s pretty good.”

  “Oh, then get whatever you think,” she replies, her tone easy-going. “What’s the best dish?”

  The waiter is by our table instantly — that’s what a history of great tips gets you. They know Jude well here. The waiter has his order pad poised at the ready. “Going to have something to eat tonight, guys? And lady?” he adds with a quick glance at Emma.

  “Absolutely,” I say, damn near giddy to be sharing a meal with Emma. “Definitely the calamari. And the Thai curry wraps,” I add, remembering that Trigg was talking about them while we were waiting.

  “The stuffed mushrooms are my favorite,” Jude says, his words directed at Emma.

  She nods and looks up at the waiter. “Let’s have some of those, too. And mozzarella sticks with marinara sauce. I’m in the mood for fried-everything.”

  “Great,” the waiter says, scribbling furiously on his pad before he looks up. “Anything else?”

  Gunner clears his throat. “Yeah, I want some of those chicken wings you all make — the really spicy ones. What are they called?”

  “The Screaming Hot Wings?” the waiter says.

  Gunner snaps his fingers. “Yes, those. And loaded fries, extra cheese and bacon.” He reaches for the menu and runs his eyes down the page. “And the jalapeno poppers. And a double order of onion rings. Also, some of those Caribbean mango meatball sliders — they look delicious. Oh, yeah, and the pulled-pork barbeque nachos. And throw some spinach artichoke dip on there, too, with extra pita chips. That should get us started.”

  Emma blinks slowly, and I can almost see her mentally counting how many appetizers he just ordered, but she just lifts the glass of sweetened tea to her mouth to hide her smile.

  The waiter raises an eyebrow, but none of us say a word at Gunner’s impressive list, and after a moment, the guy scribbles it all down. Normally, we’d throw a verbal jab at Gunner for placing such a huge order, but not tonight. We all know he hasn’t been eating much — subsisting on beer more than food lately, and it’s good to see his appetite is back finally, now that Emma is settling in with us for the evening.

  A moment later, the waiter tucks his pen behind his ear and excuses himself. There’s a moment of silence at the table after he leaves, and we all glance at each other warily. It’s the moment of truth, and we’re all mentally bracing ourselves for whatever Emma’s decision might be.

  Jude takes a deep breath and leans over the table, steadying himself on his forearms. “Would you like to start now, or do you want to wait until after we’ve had something to eat?”

  “I know what I came here to say.” Emma says, setting down her glass after a long sip of ice tea. “It’s pretty simple, so I’ll just tell you now. My answer is no.”

  My heart seizes in my chest as the optimistic air around the table vaporizes. “No… what?” I ask cautiously, trying not to jump to the worst conclusion.

  “I mean, I’m not going to be the distraction. I’m not asking BHC to meet with me so you guys can break into their offices.”
>
  Jude swallows, looking at her intently. “You won’t be in any danger. You can have the meeting in a public place, and on top of your security team, we can have Trigg watching over you, stashed out of sight but close enough to move in if needed.”

  “Hell, yeah,” Trigg says. “I can scout the area before—”

  “It’s not that,” she interrupts. “I don’t care about being in danger at this point, not after all they’ve put me through.”

  “Then what is it?” Jude asks.

  “I can’t let you guys put yourselves in harm’s way.”

  “Emma, we don’t mind. We want to do this,” I say.

  “We’ve lived through worse situations, believe me,” Jude adds. “And there’s no other way, is there? BHC won’t stop until someone takes them down.”

  “I agree, they won’t stop,” Emma says, nodding her head solemnly. “And you’re right, getting that information is the only way I know of that can end this.”

  “Okay…” Jude replies, confusion on his face. “Then it sounds like you agree that we need to do this.”

  “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Emma says. “Not we. Me. I need to be the one to break in.”

  “No.” Jude shakes his head. “No way.”

  “We can’t let you do that, Emma,” Trigg pipes up.

  Jax puts it in much clearer terms, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “You are not going anywhere fucking near their goddamn building.”

  Emma doesn’t say anything, she just sits back and takes a deep breath, like she’s fully expected this response and is waiting for the moment to pass. But it’s not going to. Because there’s no damn way in hell any of us are going to let her put herself at more risk. It’s bad enough that our plan requires her to meet with them as a distraction — but sending her in to infiltrate their system? My God in heaven, no.

  She turns to me, perhaps hoping for a light of reasoned logic, but I shake my head. “I agree with them. That’s not happening.”