by Alexa Wilder
Billy let out a surprisingly jolly laugh. In explanation, Axel said, “Emma’s in human resources."
Billy kept laughing and said, "I bet you'd handle the crew around here a little differently than I do. But then if we had someone as gorgeous as you trying to wrangle these guys, no one would ever get anything done."
“That’s for damn sure," Axel said. He wound his arm around my waist and led me past Billy's desk to another brushed steel door. He didn't do anything to unlock this one—maybe Billy did it—but I heard the click of the lock as we approached. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that a security company had so many locked doors.
It looked like they could withstand a siege. I wondered how easy it would be to get up here from the lobby if you didn't have an appointment. I suspected it would be nearly impossible. We went down the hall, then turned down another hall, both of which were lined with closed doors. We didn't pass a single person on our way.
"Does anyone else work here?" I asked. “It's so quiet." Maybe security specialists didn’t work on weekends. It was Saturday.
Axel opened the door at the end of the hall and ushered me into a spacious office. Keeping true to theme, it had a long, wide black desk, black bookshelves, and a black leather couch on the opposite side of the room. The couch was covered with what looked like Neiman Marcus shopping bags. They were the only thing in the room that wasn’t black, gray, or brushed steel.
Two black leather chairs sat opposite the desk. Axel led me to one and took the other for himself.
“I've got a good-sized team,” he said, “but most of them are in the field. Or they were in the field last night and they haven't made it into the office today. I don't micro-manage. They have their assignments, and I know they're getting them done."
"But doesn't anyone work in the office? Or is it so quiet because it’s the weekend?" I asked.
"Weekends are a little slower, but there are always two people in the control room. And I have some IT people—" the way he said IT made me think they were less network administrators and more like hackers, "but they have their own space on the floor above us. I try not to bother them unless I have to. They don't like their focus interrupted."
Billy entered carrying two steaming mugs of coffee on a tray, along with a small stainless steel pitcher of cream and a matching bowl of sugar. He placed the tray on the desk and said, “Anything else?"
"No, we're good. Thanks, Billy."
Billy gave a half mocking salute and left, closing the door firmly behind him.
I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer and gestured to the mess on the couch. “What's all that?"
“That’s yours. You had to leave your clothes behind last night. Since it's not safe to take you back to your apartment, I didn't want you to be stuck in the same jeans and T-shirt until we get this worked out. I had my personal shopper set you up.”
My jaw dropped. The couch was covered with Neiman Marcus bags. I loved Neiman’s. I could spend many deliriously happy hours in Neiman Marcus, usually at the sale racks. I made a great salary, but when you love to shop, even a great salary doesn't go that far if you buy everything you like, especially in a store like Neiman Marcus. There were a lot of bags on the couch.
"How much did you think I’d need?" I asked. Axel shrugged.
"I told her your sizes and that you wouldn't have any clothes or any other personal items for a few weeks. She figured it out from there."
“But how did you know my sizes? And what do you mean she figured it out?”
Axel gave me a level stare. "There is very little about you, Emma, that I haven't noticed. I know what size clothes you wear. I know what size shoes you wear. I know that you have bigger than average feet, and they’re on the narrow side. I know you like boot cut jeans, you don't like them to ride too low on your hips, and you prefer Lucky’s. I know you like comfortable fabrics, but you still like to look tailored and never messy. I know a lot about you. I don't know a lot about makeup, but I had Billy send a picture from your file so Lola would have an idea of your coloring. She’s very good at what she does, but if anything doesn't work, we'll send it back."
I couldn't stop staring at the pile of bags and boxes on the couch, especially not now that I knew what they were. I wanted to forget all my troubles and dig in. It would be lovely to get out of this T-shirt and jeans and even better to be able to put on a little makeup, maybe even do something with my hair. After all the confusion, pain, and fear of the last twenty-four hours, I would feel so much better if I knew I looked presentable. Then reality hit me.
"Axel, I can't afford any of this. I have some money saved up, but not so much that I can blow it all on a wardrobe I don’t really need. I already have a full closet."
Axel shook his head. "You are not paying for any of this. It's my fault you had to leave everything behind. It's my fault I can't take you back to your apartment. It's only fair that I cover the costs of solving that problem."
“Explain to me why I can't go back to my apartment," I said.
Unable to resist the siren call of new clothes, I got up from my chair and went to look through the bags. I could listen to Axel's explanation and check out my new stuff at the same time.
“Agent Tierney asked me not to blow my cover with Harper. Now that you can't go back to the office, they don't have anyone on the inside. Technically, my job with Harper is done. But as far as he knows, we parted on good terms. Tierney asked me not to compromise that unless I have to. It's likely they have someone watching your place. If I, or any of my people, take you there, he’ll know I'm helping you. Even if they don't make us, they’ll know where you are. It's not worth the risk."
That made sense. I pulled out a lightweight red and navy striped sweater with cute button detailing on the three-quarter length sleeves and a pair of Lucky jeans in my favorite style. Lola was good. Fortunately, she’d included underwear. Most of it was high end yet basic bras and panties. Everything was gorgeous, but it was for every day. Sorting through the bags, I found a few pieces that were definitely not functional lingerie. I spotted a red lace bra and panty set that wouldn’t do much to support my generous breasts, but I’d bet would look spectacular. A silk and lace negligée as light and thin as a whisper. A nearly transparent camisole with matching thong. I’d never worn La Perla, and as pissed as I was at Axel, I wasn't starting today, but I knew I'd put it on eventually. I didn't think I had it in me to be angry enough at anyone to resist La Perla for long. I took what I needed, plus the bag of makeup, and asked, "Bathroom?"
Axel indicated the back corner of his office, where the wall became a panel. It could've been a door, but it was missing a handle. I raised an eyebrow and looked at Axel for further direction. "Just walk closer and push on it. It’ll open if it's empty. If you're in there, it’ll stay locked until you come out."
Good enough for me. I picked up my coffee from the desk and disappeared into Axel’s bathroom. Sitting around in those bloodstained jeans and yesterday’s underwear, with messy hair and no makeup, I couldn't seem to settle down. Maybe it was irrational, but I wanted to pull myself together before the day went any further.
I was too annoyed at Axel to mind leaving him alone, so I took my time. Besides, it was his office, and this was a workday. I was sure he had plenty to keep him busy. I tried not to think about my empty desk at Harper Shipping. I’d worked hard for that job. I didn’t want to face that it was over.
Instead, I got dressed. The jeans and shirt fit perfectly. The jeans were a touch tight, not a surprise since they were brand new, but they looked good. And the sweater had a scoop neck and nipped-in waist that made me look like I had an hourglass figure. I loved it. I pulled on clean socks and the sneakers I’d brought with me, and I tried to fix my hair and face.
The makeup Lola had chosen fit my coloring, but it wasn't heavy-duty enough to cover the bruises. My black eye still looked pretty bad, even with some powder and blush to tone it down. I finished my makeup and dealt with my hair. Lola
had included a travel hairdryer, flat iron, curling iron, and a selection of pins and barrettes. I could do a lot with all of that.
It didn't take me long to finish drying my hair and put it up in a casual braided side bun. I couldn't do anything more about the bruising on my face, but I felt a million times better now that I didn't look like I’d just rolled out of bed after losing a bar fight. Outside the door of the bathroom, I heard Axel's voice, raised in aggravated annoyance. Packing up my things, I pressed open the door and went to see what was going on.
20
Emma
“What are you doing here?" Axel was asking as I walked into the room and did a double take. An Axel clone was standing on the other side of his desk, dressed almost identically—if you exchanged the gray pants and eggplant shirt for black pants and steel gray shirt, and the dark brown eyes for ice blue. Otherwise, they had the same short, dark hair, the same lean but powerful build, were the exact same height, and had identical chiseled cheekbones. They were like carbon copies.
This must be another Sinclair. The Axel clone turned in my direction and gave me a slow, thorough perusal from the top of my head to my sneakered feet, wincing as he took in my black eye. I squared my shoulders and crossed the room, my hand out.
"I'm Emma Wright,” I said. “And you are?"
He grinned at me, a dizzying replica of Axel’s grin, and took my hand in his, giving it a firm yet lingering shake. I returned his grin when Axel glared down at our clasped hands. The Axel clone said,
"Evers Sinclair. It is very, very nice to meet you, Emma Wright. Griffen has all sorts of complementary things to say about you. What he says about my brother is less approving."
"Why are you here?" Axel asked again. Why was he here? I thought Griffen had said Axel's brothers worked out of Atlanta. Evers released my hand and said to his brother,
“Aren't you going to offer me coffee?"
“No.” Axel set his jaw, a mulish expression on his face.
This was a new side of Axel. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was a ten-year-old boy for all the sullen irritation in his tone. I put the bags I was still holding down on the couch and went back to retrieve my half-empty coffee cup from the bathroom.
As I came back into the room, I saw that the brothers seemed to be locked in a staring contest. Shaking my head, I said, "I'd love some more coffee. Mine is cold.”
Axel scowled at me. Then, he hit a button on the phone and asked Billy to send in more coffee and maybe some food. I sat back down in the armchair I’d used before. Evers took the one beside me, forcing Axel to choose the chair behind his desk. For the first time since I’d met him, he seemed to be at a loss for words.
Evers had a twinkle in his eye that assured me he knew exactly how much he was annoying his brother, and nothing could have made him happier. Except maybe to annoy Axel even more. Turning to me, Evers said, "Griffen called last night after he got back from your adventure. He filled me in on what he knew, and I thought I should fuel up the plane and come see what my little brother was up to."
"I've got this under control, Evers. Emma and I were just going to go over the specifics of her case and figure out what we need to do to keep her safe. We don't need your help."
"Oh, I'm not here because I think you need help with the case, Axel. You should know better than that." Turning to me he said, "I love to bug the shit out of Axel, out of all my brothers, but you’re safe in his hands. I can promise you that."
"That's what Griffen told me," I said. Evers nodded in agreement, deliberately ignoring Axel's growing irritation.
“Griffen is a good man,” he said. “We were in the Rangers together.” I nodded, sensing that Evers was telling me this only so he could continue to push Axel out of the conversation. I hated to say it, but I was almost starting to feel sorry for Axel. I had two older brothers and a younger sister. I knew precisely how maddening siblings could be. I risked a glance at Axel and saw that his jaw muscles were clenched so tightly they’d turned his cheeks white.
“If you’re not here to help with the case, what are you doing here?" Axel asked for the third time.
"Because," Evers said with a grin, "Griffen said he’d never seen you so tied up in knots over a woman. Since I've never seen you in knots over any woman, ever, I had to come out to catch the show."
Axel had no response. He sat frozen behind his desk, his teeth gritted, as if deciding whether to explode. I wondered if I’d have to break up a fight, or if it was smarter to run for the door and wait until the mayhem was over.
Then, surprising me, Axel tipped his head back and let out a bark of laughter.
“Fine,” he said, grim amusement in his dark eyes. “You want to give me a hard time over Emma? Have at it. She’s found herself in the middle of a shit storm, and since she's mine, it's all hands on deck until we get her out of it. If you're between jobs, then you can jump on board."
The door opened, and Billy entered with a brushed steel carafe in one hand and a tray of pastries, muffins, and what looked like blueberry scones in the other. Without a word, he set them both on Axel's desk and left, closing the door behind him. While I poured myself a new cup of coffee, refilled Axel’s, and got Evers a cup, Axel explained my situation to his brother. I didn't enjoy listening to a replay of everything that had happened, and I was glad Axel kept it short.
When he got to the part about handing me over to Harper, I saw Evers’s jaw tighten, though he didn't say a word. He just looked at the bruises on my face, then glared at Axel. Axel finished the story, and I waited to hear what Evers would say. His response surprised me.
"This doesn't make any sense," Evers said, shaking his head. "I can see why you took the job. From that perspective, Harper’s story holds up. But now that we know what's really going on, I don't get it."
"I know," Axel said. "Once I realized Emma was innocent, the whole thing started to fall apart."
“I don't understand,” I said, putting my coffee down on Axel's desk. “What you mean it falls apart?”
"I mean," Axel said, "if you’re guilty and Harper needed the evidence to fire you, then his hiring me makes complete sense. But if you're informing for the FBI, and Harper wants to stop you, then why hire me to gather evidence? Why bring me into this at all? He would've been better off just having Tsepov take you out. If he thought you knew too much, a random carjacking or a mugging would've solved the problem. It happens to FBI informants all the time."
The casual way Axel spoke of them killing me to solve their problem was chilling. And he was right. The easiest way for them to deal with me, once they knew I was giving evidence to the FBI, would have been to kill me. Then why had they hired Axel?
"You say William Harper is working with the Russian mob? With Sergey Tsepov?” Evers asked. Axel nodded. "It doesn't sound like Harper is smart enough to handle that."
“He’s not," Axel agreed. "My guess is that he wanted me to get the data back from Emma before she could pass it to the FBI. He could have had Tsepov take care of her, but then he would have had to admit to Tsepov that he’d fucked up by letting her inform on him in the first place."
"Sergey Tsepov does not have a forgiving reputation," Evers said.
“Tsepov already knows about me," I said, interrupting. “Harper called him to come pick me up last night.” Axel’s eyes darkened at the reminder.
“This is just a guess," Axel said. "But I have a feeling that’s a very recent development. If Tsepov had known about you this whole time, there’s no way he would have let you go around collecting evidence against them. There's something else that we’re missing." He picked up his telephone and hit a few buttons. “Send me the audio from last night; everything that happened while Emma was in Harper’s house."
I didn't want to listen to a replay of the night before. I tried to think of an excuse to leave the room, then told myself to stop being such a wimp and woman up. Yes, the situation was scary. And yes, the night before with Harper had been awful. But I
was safe, and Axel wasn't going to let anything happen to me. Listening to the conversation I'd had with Harper couldn't hurt me.
A minute later, Axel clicked on his laptop and William Harper's voice filled the room. I nibbled on a blueberry scone while we listened, reminding myself that I was safe and out of William Harper's hands. Axel's jaw was tight as he heard Harper threaten me. Evers narrowed his blue eyes and focused completely on the conversation, seeming to absorb every nuance of Harper’s words.
When the recording ended, he sat back and said, “He really is a fucking moron. Granted, he had no reason to think he was being taped, but he just admitted to all of it. And now that Emma got away, she's more of a liability than she was when she was just gathering evidence."
"I know," Axel agreed. "I'm surprised Tsepov went into business with this guy. He’s usually sharper than that. If we had that laptop, we could bring it to the FBI and put an end to all of this. Emma's evidence combined with the confession should be enough."
“You didn’t have a warrant for the recording,” Evers said, “or we could use that. But the FBI might be able to scare him with it, even if it wouldn’t hold up in court. Too bad we lost the laptop.” Evers gave Axel a pointed look, clearly blaming him for the loss of the evidence.
My mind raced. So far, I'd kept Summer out of this. But Axel and Evers had to know the evidence wasn't lost. I wasn't doing myself or the case any favors by keeping my mouth shut at this point. Desperately hoping I was doing the right thing, I said, "William Harper has my laptop, but he doesn't have all of the evidence." Axel's eyes snapped to me.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I've been sending copies of everything I found to a friend of mine. She doesn't know what it is, only knows that I asked her to hold it for me.” Two sets of eyes pinned me to my chair. I tried to explain. “It just felt weird gathering all this information and then handing it over. What if Agent Tierney had lost it? Now I’m glad I was so paranoid.”
