by Cat Schield
“I heard you’ve been out with Harrison Crosby a few times,” Chip said, shooting her a sideways glance.
They were standing in front of the hostess at Felix Cocktails et Cuisine waiting to be seated and London wasn’t at all surprised that the sandy-haired man had caught wind of their dates.
“It’s business,” she responded, keeping her answers short. “I’m planning his brother’s birthday party.”
“Doesn’t really seem your type,” Chip persisted, obviously not believing her explanation.
“Because he’s a race-car driver?” She heard the defensive note in her voice and inwardly winced.
“Because his family isn’t old Charleston.”
“There aren’t many eligible men who are.” London sighed, feeling disingenuous as she fed Chip what he expected her to say. “But from everything I’ve heard, it seems as if Tristan and I would be better suited.” The lie tasted awful on her tongue, but she needed whatever Chip knew about Tristan.
“So you’ve given up on getting back together with Linc?” From the routine nature of the question, London suspected he already knew the answer. “I mean, you two were the golden couple.”
“Maybe on paper.”
In truth, the longer they’d been together and the more interest Linc had displayed in settling down and starting a family, the more she’d dragged her feet about setting a wedding date. Frankly, she’d been terrified at the idea that she’d be expected to give up her career and had struggled to imagine herself as a mother. Did she have the patience for children? Or the interest?
And yet none of those same questions or insecurities bombarded her when she imagined herself with Harrison. Not that she saw a future with him. Her mother would disown her if London married a race-car driver. And then there was the revenge plot against Tristan, something she’d have to keep secret from Harrison forever. What chance did a relationship have when the partners weren’t truthful with each other?
No doubt the impossibility of a happily-ever-after with Harrison was what kept her anxieties at bay. Convinced they had no future, London was free to daydream about them settling into a house somewhere between downtown Charleston and the Crosby Motorsports complex. With her business growing ever more successful each year and thanks to the hard work of the fantastic staff she’d hired, she was in a position where she could delegate more. They’d have two darling kids. A boy and a girl. Both would have Harrison’s sea green eyes and her blond hair. They would grow up to become anything they wanted to be with both parents encouraging their individual interests.
“Have you heard that he’s taken up with his housekeeper?” Chip asked, dragging London away from her daydream.
She found herself reluctant to emerge from the satisfying fantasy. “Really?” She forced herself to sound aghast, knowing it would spur her companion to greater gossip even as her actions filled her with distaste.
“He’s definitely sleeping with her.”
When his mother had encouraged Linc to hire Claire Robbins, London’s initial reaction had been to doubt Maribelle’s concerns that the pretty military widow was competition and to ignore the fact that Claire and Linc had chemistry. In London’s view, Claire was obviously still in love with her deceased husband and utterly focused on her darling toddler.
“Has he come out and said so?” London asked, breaking her promise to not dabble in unsubstantiated rumor about her ex. “Or is that just speculation?”
“They’ve been going out to dinner and he bought her a pair of earrings.” Chip declared this as if it definitively proved his claim. “And the way he looked at her at his mother’s party?” Chip fanned himself even as he rolled his eyes emphatically. “There’s definitely something going on.”
“That’s all speculation,” she insisted, hoping the gossip wasn’t true. Something about Claire was off. She’d been too evasive when discussing her life before Charleston. “Plus, even if he’s sleeping with her, it’s not going to last.”
Chip looked shocked. “Well, of course not.”
As the hostess led them to a table, London shoved all thoughts of her ex to the back burner. Linc was Everly’s project and London needed to give every appearance of having moved on to avoid any backlash after Everly’s revenge plan came to fruition.
As London settled into her seat, she scrambled for a way to shift the conversation to what Chip knew about Tristan Crosby. When no smooth segue came to mind, she decided to be forthright.
“Harrison hired me to plan a surprise birthday party for his brother. What can you tell me about Tristan?”
Chip leveled a speculative look on her before answering. “Dresses well. Loves the finest money can buy. Gives to charities, but not because he cares, more so people will tell him how great he is. Several women have told me he’s a sexual predator. Don’t let yourself be alone with him or he’ll have his hands all over you.”
None of this was news, so she pushed for more. “Wasn’t he married until recently?”
“Zoe. Nice girl. She had no idea what she was getting into when she married him.”
“Girl?” London echoed, picturing the woman she’d met weeks earlier. “I thought she was in her late twenties.”
“I’m speaking figuratively. He snapped her up when she was still in college and she always seemed to have a deer-in-the-headlights look about her. She barely spoke when they were out together. Just a decorative bit of arm candy that every guy in the room wanted as their own.”
London shuddered as she pondered how it would feel to be valued for her face and figure alone. Although she’d barely met Zoe, their shared experience of personally being wronged by powerful, wealthy men had given her a sense of sisterhood that she hadn’t felt with Everly, whose beef with Ryan Dailey had to do with his treatment of her sister.
“You can do better,” Chip said, redirecting her attention. “Might I suggest Grady Edwards? Good family. Wealthy. A little obsessed with polo for my taste, but no one is perfect.”
“I’ll keep him in mind,” London replied diplomatically, struggling for a way to return the conversation to Tristan. “Although I heard Landry Beaumont has been seeing him.” This was a spurious remark. Rumor had it Landry was chasing Linc. “So what happened between Tristan Crosby and his ex-wife?”
“He dumped her. Something about her having an affair. Later I heard he fabricated the whole thing to get out of paying her anything. The man is ruthless,” Chip said, leaning forward and lowering his voice conspiratorially even though no one was close enough to hear their conversation. “Magnolia Spencer told me in confidence that Zoe got next to nothing.”
“Because of a prenup?”
“Because there’s no money.”
“How is that possible? Crosby Automotive does exceptionally well and, from what I hear, Tristan has been remodeling the Theodore Norwood house on Montague for the last five years. A client of mine has done some of the work and said Tristan has put nearly three million into the project.”
Chip shrugged as he eyed the menu. The restaurant was known for its creative cocktails and small plates all done with a Parisian flare. “What looks good?”
As much as London wanted to keep the conversation alive, she decided more digging would only make Chip suspicious. Whatever Tristan was doing, his activities weren’t spawning the sort of gossip that if it got out might harm him.
London stared at the menu, but her thoughts were far away. Finding an indirect way to take down Tristan seemed impossible.
Zoe had explained that Tristan was incredibly secretive about his finances. So much so that when her divorce lawyer had looked into his assets, it had become pretty obvious that Tristan spent far more than his annual salary from Crosby Automotive and the income he received from his investments.
“I think I’m going to have the tarte flambée,” Chip said. “Or maybe the Spanish octopus.”
D
ecisions made, London settled back and listened with half her attention as Chip filled her in on all the latest events. She let her troubling thoughts about Tristan drift to Harrison and the risky path she was following.
What had happened between them at the venue where his brother’s party would be held was a perfect example of what a mistake it was to become involved with Harrison. The man held an unexpected and compelling power over her libido. She still couldn’t believe she’d had an orgasm like that in a public place where at any moment they could be discovered.
Her cheeks went hot as she recalled how she’d rocked and writhed against him, greedily grabbing at the pleasure he’d offered. She’d never climaxed like that before, and recognized that some of her excitement had come from the danger of being caught with his hand up her skirt.
When London had shared what had happened with Maribelle, her friend had at first been shocked and then wildly encouraging. To say that London had stepped outside her comfort zone was a major understatement. What surprised her almost more than letting Harrison touch her like that was her lack of regret in the aftermath. She’d done something wicked and wanton and failed to hear her mother’s voice rain scathing recriminations down upon her head. Maybe she was making progress.
London’s phone buzzed. It was Thursday evening and Harrison had flown to Miami for the last race of the season. She was a little shocked the way her heart jumped in anticipation of hearing from him. Still, she left the phone screen down on the table.
Following that incredible encounter on Monday afternoon, Harrison had been a man of his word and accompanied her to choose flowers and pick out stationery.
In the subsequent days, even though he’d been preoccupied with pre-race preparations, he’d sent her several charming messages that made her body sing.
With each text she’d grown more and more impatient to see him again. She caught herself daydreaming about what she would do the next time she got him alone. In all-too-brief moments of clarity, London reminded herself that this behavior ran counter to her real purpose in getting to know him better. She was supposed to be focused on securing whatever information she could to take down his brother. The push and pull of regret and longing was making her question her character and decisions.
Unfortunately, it was too late to back out now.
Her phone buzzed again.
“Do you need to get that?” Chip asked.
Fighting the need to connect with Harrison was too much work and London nodded with relief. “It might be work,” she said, hoping that wasn’t the case.
It’s hot in Miami. Thinking of you in a bikini.
Joy blasted through her, shocking in its power. Giddy with delight, she forgot that she was sitting across from one of Charleston’s most fervent gossips.
Missing you.
She stared at the words she’d just sent. Despite the fact that it was true, she couldn’t believe she’d opened herself up like that.
You’re sure you can’t join me?
She bit her lip as temptation raged within her. The corporate event she’d arranged for Saturday night could be turned over to Grace. It would be so easy to jump on a plane and be in the stands cheering him on Sunday afternoon.
Can’t. How about dinner Monday? My place.
His response came at her in a flash.
Sure.
She sent a smiley face emoji and returned the phone to the table, aware she was smirking. Only then did she glance at her dinner companion and notice that he wore a bemused expression.
“That wasn’t work,” Chip said.
“What makes you say that?” she hedged, a flush racing over her skin.
“I’ve never seen you smile like that before.” His eyes narrowed. “Not even when you were first engaged to Linc. You are glowing. Who is he?”
London shook her head. “What makes you think it was a he? It could’ve been Maribelle.”
“It was Harrison Crosby, wasn’t it?” Chip countered, displaying absolute confidence in his deductive reasoning. “You’re interested in him. He’s a catch.”
“Is he?” London replied weakly. “I guess I haven’t thought of him that way.”
Lies, lies, all lies. She’d thought of little else these last few days. London was abruptly appalled at the person she was becoming. Nor did she have a plan to extricate herself from her pledge to take down Tristan even as her feelings for Harrison grew. More and more she was convinced that everything was going to blow up in her face and her actions would end up causing harm rather than helping Zoe.
* * *
At a table near the front window of the coffee shop across the street from London’s ExcelEvent office, Everly sipped green tea and pondered her ever-deepening concern over London’s relationship with Harrison. Stupid idiot. At least she’d picked the inconsequential brother to fall for. Everly would have to kill her if she’d fallen for Tristan.
Her cell buzzed, indicating an incoming call from her assistant. Annoyed with the distraction, she sent the call to voice mail. She refused to make London’s mistake and lose focus. A second later her phone buzzed again. It was Nora again.
Blowing out a breath, she unclenched her teeth and answered. “What?”
“Devon Connor is here for your four o’clock meeting,” Nora said, unruffled by her employer’s sharp tone.
“What four o’clock meeting?”
Everly handled the branding for his numerous golf resorts up and down the coast. In the year since Kelly had been arrested, his account had become the bulk of her business.
“The one I texted and called and emailed you about yesterday and this morning. Where are you?”
Everly silently cursed. “Tell him I’ve been delayed.”
“How long?”
A quick glance at her watch showed it was a quarter past four already. London usually left work by now.
Earlier today Everly had secured a little bit of tech that could help them all out. After deciding London was neither computer savvy enough nor equipped with the right tools to get dirt on Tristan Crosby, Everly had taken matters into her own hands.
The USB drive in her purse had come from a source connected to a friend of her sister’s. In college Kelly had run with a group that hacked for fun. Everly hadn’t known about it at the time or she’d have warned Kelly away from such recklessness.
The drive contained software that, when plugged into a computer and with a few commands, could bypass passwords and copy everything on the hard drive. The question remained if London was up to the challenge of gaining access to Tristan’s computer.
“Reschedule him for tomorrow,” Everly said, calculating how much work remained on the presentation for his newest acquisition. “Or if you can push him to next week that would be even better.”
“He’s not going to be happy.”
“Make something up. Tell him I’m dealing with an emergency.” Everly spotted London exiting her office. “I have to go.”
Hanging up on her assistant, Everly exited the coffee shop and followed London, doing her best to behave like an unremarkable woman window-shopping along King Street.
London walked briskly. Obviously she had some place to be. Rushing off to another date with Harrison, no doubt. The thought made Everly grind her teeth.
Honestly, what did London think she was doing? Did the event planner imagine she and Harrison had any sort of chance? Even if London was merely engaging in a bit of fun with the handsome race-car driver, her priorities were skewed. Irritation flared that Everly needed to remind her of this fact again.
London had almost reached her car. Everly lengthened her stride until she was jogging and her timing was perfect. As London pushed the unlock button on her key fob, Everly drew within several feet of her.
“Where are you running off to in such a hurry?” Everly demanded, speaking with a more accusatory t
one than she’d planned, causing London to whip around.
“What are you doing here?” Eyes wide, London glanced from side to side, scanning the area to see if they were being observed.
“Relax. Nobody’s going to see us.” Everly crossed her arms and regarded the younger woman with disdain. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Harrison Crosby. Have you been able to get any information out of him that we can use against his brother?”
Everly suspected she already knew the answer, but asked the question anyway. From the way London’s gaze shifted away, it was obvious she wasn’t taking their revenge pact seriously.
“Look,” London quipped, “it’s not as if I can just come out and ask Harrison about Tristan’s secrets.”
“Of course not.” Everly reached into her purse and pulled out a USB drive. “That’s why I got you this.”
London eyed the slim drive for a long second. “What is that?”
“It’s a USB drive with a special program on it. You just need to insert it into a port on Tristan’s computer, key in a few commands, and it will get you all the information you need off his hard drive.”
“Where did you get it?”
“What does it matter?” Everly snapped, her irritation getting away from her. “All you need to know is that it will work.”
“How am I supposed to get access to Tristan’s computer?”
London was worthless. She was letting her feelings for Harrison distract her from their mission. Fortunately, Everly had thought everything through and had a plan prepared.
“There’s a charity polo event coming up at Tristan’s plantation,” Everly explained. “Make sure you’re invited. It will be the perfect opportunity for you to get the information we need.”
“That sounds risky.”
Everly wanted to shake the other woman. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s taking chances here?”
