by Kahlen Aymes
“I’m not afraid, but I’m not an idiot. Men like him are dangerous to women in general. I’m not looking for a relationship, but if I were, he’d be the last type of man I’d want. He’s too detached. You heard him. He needed sex and having a monogamous relationship was a convenient way to get it. Call me crazy, but if you’re only fucking for a fling, okay. But I already have someone for that. I don’t need to complicate my life with someone like him.”
“Oh, yes. How is Kenny?” Becca crinkled her nose in distaste, took a big swig from her water bottle, and then wiped the moisture from her mouth with the back of her hand. “He’s just so… bleh.”
Angel shook her head. “He’s a nice guy.”
Kenneth Gant was a lawyer that Angel met when she first starting working as guardian ad litem for the Cook County District Court. He’d taken a strong interest in her from the first time they’d met. Angel dated him for a while, but now it was mainly a sexual relationship once or twice a month. Even that was getting too much. Her rule of sex with no strings for short-term only was sorely stretched on this one. Funny though, he was the one with feelings, not her.
Angel sighed. When she thought about it, it was about scratching an occasional itch. Maybe it wasn’t so different from Alex’s situation, except he treated the girl like they were in a relationship, so the boundaries got blurred. With Ken, she was honest and told him, in no uncertain terms, that they had no future together. Kyle had hurt her badly when he cheated on her with one of the band’s groupies, and she wasn’t about to open her heart like that again. No man was going to control her, or her life, or her emotions ever again. It wasn’t worth it to her.
“Nice is girl code for bleh,” Becca pointed out with a cringe, and Angel shrugged.
“He’s been good to me. I’m not seeing him that much anymore, anyway. I felt like I was leading him on. I know he wants more and I don’t.”
“No shit? Probably the bleh factor kicking in,” Becca deadpanned. “He’s not bad looking, but his personality—not so much.”
“He’s not that bad. He’s sweet.” Angel shook her head and chuckled.
“Yeah? There you go with more code-speak again. Translation? Boring. You need to get out more, Angel.” Becca shook her head knowingly. She was well aware that Angel was not into this lawyer at all. “When you start using adjectives like amazing, fuckhawt or magic peen, then I’ll know your vag is at attention.”
“Magic peen is an adjective and a noun,” Angel pointed out with a smirk.
“Yeah, well, I think you get my point.”
* * *
Alex paced back and forth in front of his desk, impatient for Cole to call him back. It was Saturday and the office was empty, most of the lights were off, and it was eerily silent. Avery Enterprises had three entire floors of the Hancock Building, and Alex’s office was on the Southeast corner of the top floor. Of course, it was the best view of the city and the waterfront, and it was more like a small apartment, with luxurious furniture and a full private bathroom, sitting room, and closet. The sofa was oversized and Alex had found himself asleep on it many times while working late on an acquisition deal or schematics for a new hotel.
Ever since that damn phone call last night, his thoughts were consumed with the incomplete glimpses he’d seen of the mysterious woman named Angel Hemming. He didn’t have her face, but he had her words. Just that sultry voice intrigued him more than he was willing to admit, and he was compelled to know more about her. Words were the only thing between them, yet he’d been more aroused than if she’d grabbed his cock and begged him to fuck her.
He huffed in disbelief at his own weakness as his mind darted to the picture Darian had sent via and the mystery surrounding the woman attached to it. She was intelligent and seemed to understand how a man’s mind worked. Which, in and of itself, was a huge turn-on and something he hadn’t come across before. Topped off by that damn snarky, teasing banter, and he was captivated. Alex wanted to know more. Much more.
He hadn’t slept much and dawn was breaking over the horizon, shining into his penthouse. As coffee brewed in the kitchen, Alex was already in his personal gym. He spent an hour rowing and running until he’d exhausted himself; the sweat casting a thin sheen on the skin of his muscular chest and arms and running lightly down his face. His original plan had been to drive out to his house and pick up his dog, Max, before going to his parents’ acreage on the north side of the city. Instead, he found himself in front of his computer Googling Angeline Hemming.
He shook his head in utter astonishment. Alex fucking Avery Googling a woman? Pathetic. The worst part was, he found almost nothing. A nod to her chairing some women’s empowerment organization, and small mentions about her in articles surrounding a couple of the highest profile abuse cases that Chicago had seen in the two years since she’d gotten her PhD. The nature of her work kept the details quiet as most of the case files were sealed, but it was apparent that she was well respected and sought after. Alex was impressed. She was professional and she had ethics. The only other thing he found was a press release issued about the new radio show being a platform for her charity work. Nothing personal. Not one damn thing. And what burned Alex’s ass more than anything was that there wasn’t a single picture to ease his burning curiosity.
He moved across the room, raking both hands through his thick hair, and stopped in front of the windows. It was a clear day and the water of Lake Michigan sparkled in the sunlight, contrasting its dark hues against the light blue, spring sky.
“Fucking hell,” Alex muttered to himself. He felt irritated that his thoughts were consumed by a woman he’d never met, and he was angry at Darian for taunting him. He shook his head in disgust. He hadn’t even seen her face. Stupidly, I fell for the goddamned bait!
It had only been minutes, yet seemed like hours when his brother finally called back.
“Cole, what the hell took you so long?” Alex admonished sharply. He was younger than Cole by two years, but of the three Avery children, Alex was, by far, the most responsible. Cole worked because his father and brother forced the issue, but if he had his preference, he’d be laying on a beach in the Bahamas or Bali instead.
“I’m not home. Otherwise engaged, dude.”
Alex grimaced at the slang term. Ugh.
“Uh, can’t say I give a shit what your state of engagement is, Cole. What’s the name of that investigator? The one that Dad has on retainer?”
“Whoa. The CFO doesn’t remember the name of the investigator?” Cole teased lightheartedly. While Alex was serious and focused, Cole could make any situation into a joke. “I mean, if I was in charge of all the money, I sure as shit would know who the head of security was.”
Alex sighed and ran his hand impatiently through his hair again, his fingers stopping to yank on the strands. “Cole, if you want to be in charge of the cash, I suggest you take it up with Dad. For now, can you help me out?” His voice was flat and resigned, like a parent dealing with a disobedient child.
They shared brotherly love, but there was a decided competition between the two. Cole held a degree of resentment toward Alex because he was technically his boss. Their parents, especially their father, Charles, didn’t trust Cole’s slacker nature. It was always Alex who stepped in to clean up the mess, and it didn’t go unnoticed. He was the model child; always excelling, always doing what was expected and more.
“Bro, forget work. Let’s go to the Cubs game this afternoon. Get Darian and Dad, and I’ll call Josh, too,” Cole rattled on. His complete lack of focus made Alex’s mouth tighten in annoyance.
Joshua Franklin was their sister Allison’s husband. Ally met Josh on a spring break trip to Cabo San Lucas six years earlier. His family was from a small town in Oklahoma, and though he wasn’t wealthy, Allison loved his gentle charm and easygoing nature. Charles hadn’t accepted him easily; at first thinking no one was good enough for his youngest child and only daughter. But with fortitude and grace, Josh eventually won him over. Josh refu
sed to take a job within the company, preferring to be self-sufficient and started a small insurance agency. Alex ensured Josh’s success by running all of the corporation’s insurance policies through the Franklin agency. The Avery account and the connections with the family soon had his agency well networked and extremely lucrative.
“Can you please just give me the. God. Damn. Name?” Alex enunciated every word.
“What’s got your shorts in a wad up your ass? Jesus, Alex, you need to lighten up. Have some fun for Christ’s sake.”
“Someone’s got to earn the money, and between the two of us, we know who jacks off. If you want me to go to the game and front the beer, stop pissing with me and tell me what I want to know. I can get my business done while you call the rest of your little playmates.”
Cole laughed softly in response. “Fuck you.”
“Maybe later, dickhead. The name?” Alex wasn’t laughing, but he was grinning from ear to ear, and the amusement in his voice told Cole he was joking around.
Alex heard some rustling on the other end of the phone. “Fine. I have to look in my contacts. Hold on.”
Alex went to his mahogany desk and sat down in the large leather chair, waiting. He put his phone on speaker and set it on the desk.
“Uh, Bancroft. Jason Bancroft.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Okay, get tickets and text me with the game time. I’m taking Max to the folks, so I’ll grab Dad and meet you there.” Alex was already looking up the phone number for the Bancroft agency online.
“Sure. Alex, what’s this about?”
“Probably nothing. I’m curious about something, and I can’t find much on the net. I’ll tell you about it later but not in front of Dad.”
“You can get anything online, but it takes time. You need to get some patience.”
“I’d rather just have it done. Besides, I don’t have time to fuck around on the internet.”
“If you’re keeping it from Dad, it isn’t about the company. And the plot thickens.”
Alex laughed without answering. “Don’t drown in the quagmire. It’s not worth it. See you later.”
“Yeah, later.”
Alex ended the call and immediately dialed Bancroft’s number, groaning when he got the answering service.
“I need to speak to Bancroft immediately. This is Alexander Avery.”
“Mr. Bancroft is out of the office. Would you like to leave a message?” The bland female voice on the other end of the phone inquired.
“Just tell him to call me please. It’s very important.” Alex grimaced; angry he felt such impatience over something that, two days ago, was insignificant. It isn’t an emergency, no one was dying nor millions of dollars extorted, but yet he felt anxious, clammy, and his heart rate elevated. Get a grip, Avery. What the fuck is your problem?
“I understand, sir.”
“I’m not sure you do. He’s on retainer for my company, and I need a call back in the next ten minutes.”
“I’ll try, sir. I’ll page him. Can I please have your number?”
Alex complied quickly as he left the office and headed toward his late-model, black Audi convertible. He was soon on his way out of the city, traveling north toward his estate with Aerosmith playing loudly in Dolby Surround Sound. The epitome of a rich, young executive, Alex had all the toys that one would expect in his position but gave little thought to it. He could drive a Lamborghini or live in a mansion with a full staff, but considered both obnoxious and unnecessary, though he liked luxury. He was confident and even arrogant on occasion, but it was a fine line measured a certain degree of class. Yes, he’d grown up in a family with money, but Charles made him work for every damn thing he had and he was expected to excel. It became second nature to own responsibility for everything and everyone, and he never failed. He’d worked hard, and didn’t waste his time or energy feeling guilty. When he wanted something, he made it happen.
Would Angel Hemming be different? So far, she wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met and he was acting out of sorts. Alex was stimulated beyond belief, vowing that after they met, if he wanted her, he’d have her. She fascinated him in many ways. She was beautiful from what he’d seen, but it was her intellect and sense of humor that drove his desire. He wanted to know if she was as sexy as she sounded; if the incredible confidence she exuded would carry over into the bedroom. His dick twitched at the thought.
He smiled to himself. She certainly seemed luscious in every sense of the word. The brief twinge of guilt at the prompt end of his last relationship was quickly forgotten as the phone rang and he grabbed it from the passenger seat.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Avery, it’s Jason Bancroft. How can I help you?”
“I need information about someone.”
“Yes, sir. Is this a security matter for the company?”
“No. The reason isn’t relevant to the investigation. Find out everything you can about Dr. Angeline Hemming. She’s a psychotherapist or something, works with high profile abuse cases, and has a radio gig on Friday nights.”
“Do you want the basic rundown? Background check, credit, criminal record?”
Alex laughed. Even he realized how absurd that sounded. “No. I mean, sure, but I want the real guts. Where she grew up, family background, education, resume, connections, places she goes, names of her friends. I want to know her routine and if she’s seeing anyone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If she is, find out about him as well,” he said with a wicked grin. Knowing a competitor’s weakness always made them a vulnerable target.
Mr. Bancroft chuckled. “How detailed should I get?”
“Everything. Down to the name of her fucking dentist.”
Jason Bancroft laughed out loud, understanding Alex’s real motivation. “Ah. But, what if she doesn’t have teeth? Have you considered that?” he joked.
Alex flashed a big smile in response as he changed lanes and floored it. “Oh, she does and they’re sharp as hell. I’ve already been bitten.”
4
Temptation and Gravitation
Throp!
The manila envelope landed on the mahogany desk with a loud thud. Alex threw his assistant, Mrs. Dane, a dirty look at the abrupt gesture. She’d been his right hand since he’d taken the helm alongside his father and had earned a certain measure of Alex’s respect. It entitled her to get away with things that someone else might not and cemented their professional relationship with a good measure of friendship. She smirked at him and patted the back of her tightly coiffed chignon with her right hand as she turned to leave the room. She was a robust woman with graying dark hair, perfectly groomed, and steadfast. Sturdy was the word Charles used to describe her.
“Wait, Mrs. Dane. What’s in this package?” Alex ran a hand down his navy blue and red silk tie and raised his eyebrow at her.
Mrs. Dane was older than Alex by probably thirty years, and she was impeccable in everything she did. He’d never asked her age because his mother told him it was impolite to inquire that of women. Especially one that was older than you. She stopped and turned toward him, brushing an imaginary fleck of lint off of her purple brocade suit. “I have no idea.”
He smiled. “Well, where did it come from?” He picked it up and looked at the logo on the envelope. Bancroft Investigations. “Never mind, Mrs. Dane. Thank you.” He looked up at her from his seated position behind his desk. “Did Dad say what this urgent meeting is about?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Avery. He only said that you were to meet him in his office at 4:30 today. Have you signed the checks I left for you? If so, I can get them in the mail before I leave.” Most of the checks from Avery Enterprises were signed with an electronic version of his signature, but when they were over half a million dollars, Alex deigned to sign them personally.
“They’re done.” He reached in his drawer and handed them to her. It was Friday afternoon and Alex balked at a meeting this late in the day, even if it was with his father. “You’
re free to leave after you get these in the mail, Mrs. Dane. Have a great weekend.”
“Thank you, sir.” A genuine smile spread across her gentle face as she walked toward his office door. “You as well.”
“I will. Thank you.” Alex opened his top drawer and used his letter opener to slit the top of the envelope then pulled out a thick folder. Angeline Hemming was printed on the front, and it was held closed with rubber bands in both directions. There was a note clipped to the front.
Dear Mr. Avery,
Dr. Hemming has a flawless record, near-perfect credit, and impeccable credentials. Nothing stood out as a red flag, but I did include everything for your review. Small town girl from a poor family who excelled academically, she put herself through school with scholarships and a variety of jobs, none of them questionable. She is well respected professionally for her work in domestic abuse cases and active in some of the local charities that are relevant. She owns a condo less than two miles from your apartment downtown.
Alex’s eyes widened. That close? Maybe I’ve seen her somewhere.
The only photos that I was able to find were her high school yearbook. I’ve included the scans inside, but they’re kind of grainy. She’s been seeing a lawyer by the name of Kenneth Gant, but not much evidence of the relationship other than a couple of fundraisers they’ve attended together. He’s clean as a whistle, too, so I hope that is what you were looking for.
Her father still works as a janitor in Joplin, Missouri. I found her mother, as well, but there is nothing to substantiate that she is part of Dr. Hemming’s life at the present. She resides in Houston, Texas and has since remarried.
Regards,
J. Bancroft
Alex had just removed the letter and the rubber bands when the phone on his desk began to ring.
“Alex Avery,” he answered, and then flipped through some of the documents as his father’s voice came through the phone.
“Alex, you’re late. Can you come up now?” Charles Avery asked.
