Tempting the Corporate Spy
Page 15
“Yeah, him. We should all discuss this.”
She let her feet drop on the sand with the water no more than around their ankles. “Tomorrow. Let’s go back to bed now.”
“Okay, but I’m on overtime in the servicing department. Just remember that.”
She smiled and took his hand. “Definitely worth it.”
As they walked back to the house, he said, “You know, I think I’m going to like working with a girl who might be smarter than me.”
“Might be?” She guffawed. “Well, get used to it, hotshot.”
He grabbed her and kissed her. “I will if you can get used to having a reformed corporate spy on your project.”
And when she could breathe again, she murmured, “Only if he’s in my bed too.”
He slapped her bottom and she scooted in the house before him. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”
Epilogue
Two Days Later
Jen Sealy looked at the frumpy guy on the video screen. Rudy Dickinson sat at a booth in his favorite restaurant, Masa, a Japanese and sushi place that was much too expensive for him to patronize on his own dime. Dickinson thought he would be charging his meal to Alexander Raymond, who had arranged the reservation as well as the meeting.
The small group assembled in a conference room two doors down from Masa could see and hear Dickinson perfectly, a microphone and tiny photo lens hidden in an orchid centerpiece in front of him.
“No, I’m waiting for somebody. A chick,” Dickinson said to the waiter, pulling out his cell phone and dialing when he was alone, or thought he was. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Jen looked around the conference room. Mr. Raymond, Jonathon’s dad, was talking in undertones to the two plain-clothes policemen present and Jonathon and Liv were, as usual, holding hands and staring into each others’ eyes soulfully.
She smiled.
Once Liv had briefed her on what had really been happening in her whirlwind romance with Crestwell, Jen of course approved. Rich, handsome, what more could she ask for in a guy for Liv? And even smart, which Liv was always insisting on as well. It was a win-win.
So when Liv asked for Jen’s help in the sting operation they were planning, she was flattered and delighted to be part of the team. But for the time being, Jen seemed to be the only one listening to what Dickinson was saying on the phone.
“Yeah, I could not believe what a sap Crestwell was. One glimpse of the fake sister and he was putty in my hands.”
She wondered who such a disagreeable guy could be talking to, though the police would get his cell records and find out, since it was a partner in crime, apparently.
“Absolutely,” Dickinson went on. “And old man Raymond wasn’t any better. Indignant as hell when I went to him at first, but when Lincoln Computers gave him the number they really wanted for the program he changed his tune. Practically begged me to sell it to him. Yeah, everything’s coming together now… Of course Crestwell cracked it—took him a few days, but I knew he would—he’s going to deliver a flash drive with all the details, and Raymond, who’s got no idea his own son’s doing the dirty work, is just about to make the down payment.”
That’s where Jen came in. She was supposed to be the courier with the bearer bond to pay the first half of the installment.
The cops were paying attention now as the cell conversation on the screen ended. “You ready, Miss Sealy?” one of them asked her, as Liv and Jonathon extracted themselves from each other and came over.
“Absolutely. This is my screen debut.”
“Now, stick to the script, Jen,” Liv advised.
“Sure. No problem.” With just a few embellishments of course.
“Good. And I have no qualms about your acting ability,” Liv added to her boyfriend, who grinned.
Jen pulled the sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on “Showtime.”
She left the conference room and went next door to Masa and approached Dickinson. “The rain in Spain is mainly along the plain,” she said in a pseudo-whisper.
She loved that part.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, downing more of his beer. “Have a seat. I don’t think we need to go through all this cloak and dagger shit, do we?”
She cast a furtive look around, as if the waiter passing by with a tray of vegetables might just be an undercover agent, which actually he wasn’t, and slid into the booth next to him. Unbuttoning her raincoat to give him a view of cleavage in her tight jade dress, she kept the sunglasses on. “We can’t be too careful.”
Her voice barely made it above a whisper and almost in opposition, he said loudly, “Nobody gives a fuck, what did you say your name was?”
“Just call me,” she scanned the crowded restaurant, “Liza Doolittle.”
That part was hers. The script said “no names,” but hell, she was having fun.
“Yeah, whatever. Do you have the down payment?”
She nodded and slipped it out of the inside pocket of the raincoat, handing it to him. It looked legit, lots of zeros, but she had been assured it wasn’t.
“So this is for the Lincoln Computers technology known as anti-piracy software, correct?” she said a little louder.
“Yeah, yeah. Like I told Raymond on the phone, I have it. And as soon as I confirm this bond—” he folded it and put it in his suit jacket “—is on the level, I’ll get it to you.”
A shadow was cast over the booth and she gasped.
“Here it is, Dickhead.” Jonathon stood there, holding out a flash drive.
“What are you doing here? I said we’d meet later.”
“I’m sick of your orders. Now here it is. The Lincoln Computer anti-piracy software, as you wanted.”
“Not so loud!” she pleaded and Jonathon ignored her.
“Go on, take it. Now where’s my tape? Or tapes I should say. Julie and Liv Altman.”
“I don’t have them with me of course. But I’ll get them to you.”
“You better! And if you ever try to blackmail me again—”
Rudy snatched the flash drive. “Save your speeches.”
“Is that it?” she asked, holding out her hand for the drive.
“Hey, not until I get the rest of the payment. I need to get what’s coming to me, don’t I?”
“You sure do.” Liv slid out of the booth backing up to theirs, which she had gone into from the back of the restaurant so Dickinson wouldn’t see. She faced them. “Hi, Jen. I meant to ask you, did you get the sunglasses from your new beau?”
“Yeah. Aren’t they great? I can’t see a thing, though.”
As Dickinson was trying to digest that, the two agents slid out of the booth behind theirs as well.
“Rudy Dickinson.” One of them produced handcuffs. “I’m placing you under arrest for corporate espionage.”
“So that’s it?” Jonathon asked them, as his father came in the front of the restaurant.
“Yep, the bug in the flowers on the table worked just fine, even for Miss Sealy’s whispers.”
“I thought that was more in character,” she said, as they hauled Dickinson to his feet and placed the cuffs on him.
“What?” he protested. “I didn’t do anything. It was all your dad, Crestwell!”
“Always good to start lying right away,” Jonathon said. “Good luck with that.”
“Save it for court,” Mr. Raymond said.
Jonathon put his arm around Liv and she smiled up at him.
“Figures!” Dickinson hissed. “You’re never getting either of those tapes back!”
“Well, the one of my sister is a fake,” Jonathon pointed out, and Dickinson turned red.
“You couldn’t know that! You never even looked at it!”
“And the one of me, Mr. Dickinson,” Liv said, “if I see that somewhere on the Internet ever, I’ll make you pay in a very creative way. And I can do it too. I’m an even better programmer than Jonathon. Who knows what I’ll think up?”
“Well, at least as good,�
�� Jonathon muttered. “Besides, you know, it was no big deal. Chicks show more than that on the beach, right, Dickhead?”
As they hauled a sputtering Rudy Dickinson away, Mr. Raymond leaving as well, Liv said, “I really wish I could have come up with a more specific punishment for him. But it was on kind of short notice. Do you think Mr. Dickinson bought my threat?”
“It was totally convincing,” Jen, still seated in the booth, assured her. “You guys want to join me for lunch? It’s on the FBI.”
Jonathon and Liv shared a swift glance and both mumbled, “No, we, ah, we have work to do on the, deliberative equation side of the, ah…”
As they wandered away, arms around each other, glued to each other almost, as they’d been ever since they got back from the Bahamas, Jen called out, “Not as convincing guys!”
And then she smiled. Aw, true love. Ain’t it grand!
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Acknowledgments
I would like to thank everyone at Entangled for giving me the opportunity to work with a first-rate organization. I would also like to thank Marie Loggia-Kee for her wonderful ideas with this one and for putting up with me. Finally, I’d like to thank my agent Maureen Walters of Curtis Brown, Ltd. for being kind enough to take on my mystery novel.
About the Author
Angela Claire, like most writers, grew up loving to read, which led to a degree in English literature, which in turn led to unemployment. Not having been born to wealth, Angela developed a more practical plan for eating and paying her rent—hence the dreaded and expected descent into law school and inevitable career as a lawyer. Once she paid off her pesky yet massive student loans, Angela saved for an escape from the law profession one day. Now a multi-published author, she does what she loves, but with a little less leeway on the eating and paying rent thing.
Visit her online at www.angelaclaireromance.com
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