by Alexia Adams
Still, when he saw Helen in the hallway, his breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful, her blue eyes lit with the flame of passion, a soft, almost shy smile on her face.
“You can drop the pretense. I know,” Simon said. He wouldn’t be manipulated further.
“What…what do you mean?” She hesitated, standing in the open doorway.
“Come in, I’m not having this discussion in public. You’ve already made a fool of me with my board. I don’t need anyone else knowing what an idiot I was to fall for your game.”
Her hand flew to her chest and a twinge of guilt flared within him before it was trampled by anger. She was one hell of a good actress. Helen made Lisa look like an amateur.
“Simon, I—”
“I know you’re a genius, I just didn’t realize it was preceded by the word ‘evil.’ That was Machiavellian, pulling the patents when I bought the company. Congratulations, you played me better than any hardened CEO I’ve ever come across.”
“I didn’t play you.” Her face was so pale, for a second he thought maybe she was going to pass out. She sat abruptly on the sofa.
“Oh, really? What do you call it then—strategic acting? That was a new one, asking me to help you over your intimacy issues. You must have had such a laugh on the flight back to the U.S.”
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and pleaded with her eyes. “I never played you, Simon. Every single action was genuine. You can’t believe that I faked my fears. But I had to take the patents back. I promised my friends I wouldn’t let them lose their jobs. I had to do something.”
“So it was my fault? For your reference, I was going to front the money personally so you could start again with your own company. We would have been partners.”
“Can’t we still do that?” She raised anguished eyes to him. He steeled his heart not to react.
“I can’t partner with someone I don’t trust.”
“I never meant to hurt you, Simon.” Her voice broke on his name.
A single tear escaped her eye and trickled down her cheek. He locked his knees to stop himself from comforting her.
“Thank God I found out about your treachery before I moved my whole company out here. That would have been another colossal waste of time and money.”
“You were going to move here? For me?”
“Not anymore.” He purposely glanced at his watch. “This meeting is over.”
She rose to her feet, her legs shaking. Still, she stared him square in the eye. “I have done nothing wrong. I’ve protected those who are important to me.” She took a deep breath. “And I guess we’ve definitively answered the question of whether I was more important to you than the deal. I love you, Simon Lamont. Too bad you didn’t factor that into your calculations. I hope you and your money will be very happy together. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a company to set up.”
With a graceful nod of her head, she glided toward the door and left. The click of the door closing rattled him as if it had been a sonic boom. Game over.
…
Helen fled the hotel and in her first break of luck that day, a taxi was waiting out front. She dived into the back and gave the driver her address before bursting into tears. Simon had shown his true colors: money was more important than people. More important than her.
Her phone rang and she snatched it out of her bag, praying that it was Simon come to his senses, begging her to come back to him. Without even checking the caller display she pressed the answer icon, searching for a tissue in her bag to wipe her dripping face. She sobbed a fragmented “hello” into the phone.
“What the hell’s happened to you now?” Her brother’s irate voice shattered the last ray of hope that Simon would relent.
“Simon…” she said on a fresh bout of tears.
“Has the bastard hurt you? I’ll kill him.”
David’s words were loud enough she was sure the taxi driver heard as he gave her a concerned look through the rearview mirror.
“No, he didn’t touch me,” she said.
“What happened, then?”
“He found out I took back the patents. He didn’t give me time to explain the compromise I’d reached. I’ve screwed things up, again.”
“Do you love him?”
She was shocked by her brother’s blunt question. “Yes.”
“Does he love you?”
“I think so. At least I thought so before…”
“Then leave it to me. I suffered through six weeks of hell when Liam and Lorelei broke up. I’m not putting up with it from my little sister.”
Trust David to consider other people’s heartbreak as inconvenient to him. “David, what are you going to do?”
“What I do best. Gotta go.”
The line went dead, and when she tried to call back it was busy. She almost felt sorry for Simon.
She pulled the large manila envelope that she’d intended to give Simon from her bag. After scribbling an address on the front, she asked the driver to deliver it after he dropped her off, paying him triple the fare for his trouble. When she got to her temporary apartment she threw a few things in an overnight bag, booked a flight and a rental car at the other end, and headed out the door. She needed to escape from the world for a few days and there was only one place where she knew no one could contact her.
…
Simon headed for the shower. Alone. His anger had evaporated and all that was left was an acid burn in his stomach and the unsettling feeling that he’d just made the biggest mistake in his life in letting Helen leave. She said she loved him. Maybe it was another one of her lines; maybe it wasn’t.
He turned the water to cold, stripped off his clothes, and stepped in. Even angry, his body had been turned on by Helen standing so close to him. He cursed himself for answering his phone earlier. At least then he would have been able to appease ten days of pent-up lust before being advised of her utter treachery. Her parting words stung more than the icy water, “we’ve definitively answered the question of whether I was more important to you than the deal.” She was more important than the deal. But if he couldn’t trust her, what future could they have?
Chilled inside and out, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, which served to remind him of his first encounter with Helen. The effects of his cold shower destroyed in an instant, he pulled his clothes back on. Damn the woman. The sooner he forgot about her, the better.
Picking up his phone from the table, he was shocked to find it disabled. Despite his repeated efforts to input his password, it said it had been remotely locked. He reached for the hotel phone, but mysteriously it was dead as well.
He grabbed his bag, still packed, and headed down to reception. The staff behind the front desk looked flustered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lamont, we appear to be experiencing some technical difficulties. Our phone and computer systems are down,” the manager informed him when he approached the desk. “We hope to be back up and running soon.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m checking out. Charge my credit card when your computers come back online.”
“I apologize, Mr. Lamont, if this problem has inconvenienced you. We are working hard to rectify the situation.”
“That’s not the issue. I need to get back to New York. If my assistant calls for me tell her my phone is dead and that I’ve gone back to the airport and will be on the next flight home.”
“Very well, sir. I hope we can accommodate you at the Mandarin Oriental again in the future.”
Simon didn’t feel the need to enlighten a stranger that he was unlikely to return to San Francisco in this lifetime.
Two hours later, his frustration level was approaching apoplectic proportions. He’d been to three airline counters all with the same response. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lamont, your name is on the national security no-fly list. I can’t sell a ticket to you without further clearance from the FBI.”
“I flew in from New York this morning. Are you telling me in
the past three hours the American government has decided that I’m a security threat?” He tried to keep his exasperation under control. These people weren’t to blame, and he hated it when the frontline workers took the heat for someone up the line’s cock-up.
“I’m sorry, sir. I can only go on the information that I have,” the ticket counter woman said.
He turned and walked straight into a dark-suited man. “Mr. Simon Lamont, if you’ll come with us.” The federal agent flashed a badge and took Simon’s arm in an authoritative grip. A second black-suited man joined them and, after grabbing Simon’s bag, walked on the other side. Flanked by two men with black suits, dark glasses, and stone faces, he was beginning to feel like a criminal.
“What is going on here?” Simon said as he was marched out of the airport to a waiting black SUV.
“You’re being taken for questioning,” the first agent replied.
“I haven’t done anything.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered how many times the exact same thing had been uttered in the back of this vehicle. At this point, his hope was that these men were indeed federal agents. He had nothing to worry about from the law, but it wasn’t above kidnappers to pose as officials. The way his life was going, there wasn’t anyone who would pay his ransom.
They drove in silence to the outskirts of the city. As all traces of civilization slipped away, Simon’s nerves were tighter than a string on a bow. San Francisco really does not agree with me.
“I have American citizenship. I demand that you take me to a federal agency where I can call my lawyer.”
“Don’t panic, Mr. Lamont. We’re not going to harm you,” the first agent said. Still they drove on until they crested a barren hill. The driver shut off the vehicle and they sat in silence. The ticking of the engine was the only sound. With each minute that passed, Simon’s anxiety grew. He strained his ears, listening for any sign of life to which he could appeal for help.
The faint whump, whump, whump of a helicopter got louder until it landed fifty feet away.
The first agent clambered from the SUV and opened the back door where Simon sat. “Get out.”
He did as instructed, taking several steps away from the vehicle. The man placed Simon’s bag on the grass before he climbed back in and the driver restarted the engine and drove away.
Leaving Simon alone with whoever was inside the mysterious black helicopter.
The rotors slowed and the door to the helicopter opened. He shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun. When David Winston came into view, he didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Following the adage that the best defense is a good offense, Simon spoke first. “Really, David? Was all that necessary? If you wanted to talk to me you could have just called.”
If this got physical, he could probably take David. Helen’s brother was a good six inches shorter and not in very good shape. Then he spotted Liam sitting in the other seat of the helicopter. If he joined the fight, it would be a more even match, as they were both relatively the same size.
“I wanted to show you what I could do to your life if you hurt my sister,” David said.
“Point made. Is that what you did to the guy who tried to rape her?” Simon had to know that bastard had paid for what he did to Helen. For the past hour he’d thought over their every encounter. No way could Helen have consistently faked her fear, especially in the heat of their passion.
“You didn’t even get a fraction of the misery I put him through on a regular basis. There’s not a day goes by he doesn’t remember what he did. And he knows that all he has to do is go to the police, confess, and it will all stop. Well, at least what I’m doing to him.”
Simon felt a little bit better that Helen had been avenged, even though it was outside the bounds of the law.
“You’ve got the wrong victim this time, mate. I’m the one wronged, not Helen.”
David crossed his arms, the same way Helen did. “How do you figure that?”
“She seduced me, distracted me, so I wasted money on nothing.” God, it sounded lame even to his ears.
“She seduced you?” David looked like he just might try to land a punch. “Worse, you threw over my sister for money? You aren’t worthy of her.” David turned to go back to the helicopter.
“She lied to me,” Simon said. David stopped and turned around.
“About what? Did she tell you her goal was to save her colleagues’ jobs?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you she was a virgin and scared of men?”
Simon swallowed. “Yes.”
“Did she tell you she’s a strong, compassionate woman who puts others before herself?”
“She didn’t need to. I know that.” For the first time in his life Simon was flustered. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck to ease the tension. Nothing helped.
David continued the torment. “Did she lie to you when she risked her own happiness? When she couldn’t see any other way to live up to a promise she made to those less fortunate than herself?”
“No.”
“What did you expect her to do? Just sit back and let her friends go to the wall? Helen’s not like that.”
Pressure increased in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. This was a right royal cock-up. “I know. I was an idiot. I have to see her.”
“Why?”
“To apologize and beg her forgiveness.” And if she didn’t forgive him? The pressure in his chest increased again.
“And?”
David was very good at interrogation.
Simon dragged in a deep breath. “And to tell her that I love her and can’t live without her.” The pressure in his chest released. He’d make her understand, get her to give him a second chance, beg if he had to.
“That’s a bit better. According to my tracker on her phone, she flew to Portland a couple hours ago.”
Simon didn’t even question David about tracking his sister’s phone, considering what he’d been through the past few hours. “Portland? Why on earth has she gone to Portland?” If he could get David to remove his name from the no-fly registry, he could be there tonight.
“My guess is she’s gone to see our parents, although why the hell she’d voluntarily go there is beyond me.” David gave a dramatic shudder.
“Think I can get a ride in that helicopter to the airport?”
“You’ll have to ask Liam—it’s his baby.”
Simon and David walked toward the chopper. The rotors began a slow whirl as they approached.
“Hop in. I’ll take you to my private jet. The pilot is fueling up as we speak. He’ll fly you to Portland,” Liam called out as they approached.
“Thank you.”
“Just paying it forward,” Liam said. “I almost lost Lorelei because I was stupid and didn’t tell her how I felt about her when I had the chance. Can’t see another man go through that agony if I can help it. And for the record, if Lorelei asks, I only supplied the helicopter. David organized the rest of this afternoon’s activities.”
“I didn’t know you were so tight with the Feds,” Simon said as David sat next to him, still glaring. If his sister reacted likewise, the discomfort of the day wasn’t over yet.
“I’m not really,” David said. “I only added your name to an alert list on the computers of airlines that fly east, not the actual FBI list. And the two guys are actors I hired.”
“You had me convinced. Well played. I’ll be careful not to upset you in future.”
“Just make my sister happy and you’ll be fine,” David said.
The helicopter lifted off in sync with Simon’s heart. He was going to get his woman. Or die trying.
Chapter Fifteen
Simon stepped out of Liam’s Learjet onto the tarmac of the tiny airstrip, the closest airport to Helen’s parents the pilot felt safe to put down his precious plane. He owed Liam big-time. The private transport had shaved at least an hour and a half off his travel time.
Waiting
by the airport hangar was a red Jeep, a young man standing next to it. “Mr. Lamont, here’s your rental car. Your destination coordinates have already been programmed into the GPS. You’ll have to walk the last mile or so, though, as the road appears to end.”
Simon took the proffered keys and climbed behind the wheel. Before he could put the vehicle in gear, his cell phone rang. Last time he’d answered it, his dreams had been shattered. But he’d soon be out of cell range and he should let his personal assistant know he would be unreachable for the next couple of days—he hoped.
“Mr. Lamont, this is Dustin Edwards again.”
Simon sucked in a deep breath.
“Mr. Lamont, I have good news,” the patent lawyer said. “Shortly after our earlier call, a package was delivered to my office.”
“What’s in the package?” Simon got the words out through clenched teeth.
“Ms. Winston has granted you personally a royalty-free license for each of her patents in perpetuity. As the license is in your name, I need to know to which company you want me to sublicense the patents.” The relief in the lawyer’s voice was palpable.
“Helen transferred all her rights to me, personally? When?”
“Well, I can’t say exactly, but her signature is dated and notarized as of yesterday. The package was received by my firm around one this afternoon.”
That was within half an hour of their encounter at the hotel. Helen must have had the documents ready to present to him. Instead he’d jumped to conclusions and thought the worst of her. She’d trusted him with her career, with her friend’s careers, and he’d accused her of treachery.
Begging may not be enough. He started the engine, put it in drive, and sped away from the airstrip.
…
Helen trudged the last fifty feet to her parents’ cabin. The road finished about a mile back and she’d had to leave her rental car and hike the rest of the way. There was about an hour before sunset, and she was exhausted.
Carrying her bag and some essentials, her arms burned almost as much as her heart. Not even a vat full of Ben & Jerry’s was going to get her through this. So she’d brought two bottles of whisky, because the potato vodka the commune produced was undrinkable, and two packages of red licorice for her mother. The ultimate paradox—her “everything natural” mother loving something so artificial.
