The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder Book 3)

by Carmen Falcone

  She lifted her glass and spoke over the rim. “I’ve been doing a good job of taking care of myself.”

  “And you won’t let anyone else do it.”

  “I’m not used to anyone else doing it,” she snapped back, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

  “So what? You’ll just be on your own for the rest of your life?”

  Annoyance glittered in her eyes. “I’d rather be on my own now than listening to your condescending spiel. If you’re going to continue, I’ll cut tonight short and leave.”

  “I apologize,” he rushed to say. He’d pushed too far and insisting would only drive her away. She was completely right—it was her life, her choice, and he had no say in the matter. It bothered him, but this wasn’t the time to bring it up. Wanting to be a part of her life, as crazy as it sounded, bothered him more.

  She drummed her fingers on the table. “How about you? What’s your five-year plan? I’m sure there’s a savvy businesswoman in Texas who would love to snatch you up.”

  He bit back a smile. “I’m not opposed to marriage. I’ve always treaded carefully because picking the right person is key.”

  She nodded quickly, then opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything. The flicker of annoyance returned to her eyes, along with a trace of sadness. “Couldn’t agree with you more.” She looked away. “Now, onto sweeter topics…are you ready for dessert? I hear the crème brûlée is great.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “He called again. Not answering?” Jackie asked.

  Alexa drank a generous amount of black coffee, hoping the adrenaline would help her reply to the text messages Brooks had been leaving on her cell phone. After dinner the previous night, she’d insisted on going to her place alone without a goodnight kiss or anything that would hint they were on good terms.

  What did he expect after his what-have-you-planned-for-the-future chat? Did he want her to admit she probably wouldn’t marry or have kids? That she was a wild cat that’d been outside for too long to become a meek indoor pet?

  “He kept asking about plans for the future. Made me feel uncomfortable.” Made me feel defeated, she added to herself.

  Jackie chuckled. “Are you serious? He’s talking about plans for the future, and you’re mad about that? Most of my friends have the exact opposite problem.”

  Alexa rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t mean plans with me. He asked me a general question.” She’d almost shared with him her plan to move to Europe and do some volunteer work. Her stomach hurt like she’d sausaged herself into a Spanx two sizes too small. Why does his opinion matter? She’d noticed the discomfort in his face when that old client had approached her at the restaurant. Would his resentment increase or disappear with time, if they embarked on a committed relationship?

  “Most guys run away from that kind of chat, so if he brought it up, he wanted to hear your thoughts.”

  Alexa stared at the remaining black contents in her mug. “He talked about finding the right person, but I’m the least right person for him. So why would anyone think he was talking about me?” What if he was the kind of man who enjoyed giving women false hopes?

  “Is that why you’re not answering his calls? Because you have a bruised ego?”

  “No I don’t.” She made a face. “Just because I don’t want to hear about how he’ll make some girl happy one day doesn’t mean my ego is bruised. Please.”

  Jackie crossed her legs, shifting in the seat like she’d discovered some well-kept secret. “I rest my case. You’ve got it bad for him, girl.”

  I hate it when she’s right. “Jackie, stay out of this. I preferred when you were skeptical about him.” At least then, the questions revolved around less personal subjects.

  Jackie flashed her an affectionate look. “I want you to be happy.”

  Alexa rubbed her neck, touching her pulse beating madly. “I’m doing fine.”

  “Okay. Well, I have work to do, and if he keeps calling—”

  “I’ll handle him.”

  Jackie excused herself, and only when she was out of sight did Alexa fish her cell phone from her pocket and click to call Brooks back. What if she had been a bit brash avoiding him all morning? She tapped her fingers on the desk, annoyed he didn’t answer by the third ring.

  “Alexa.” He picked up the phone when she was about to hang up.

  Sizzles of awareness flowed from her scalp all the way down her toes. Her nipples hardened from hearing his voice, and she clutched the phone so hard, she accidentally pressed a random number. “Hi.” She cleared her throat, wishing she had rehearsed for this call like some dim-witted teenager. “I know you’ve called, I’ve been busy. What’s happening?”

  “Liam called and gave me the names of three employees with prior criminal records. One of them is just a DWI, but two of them are battery-related charges. One domestic violence, and the other guy did time for dealing drugs.”

  She shuffled in her seat, uneasy. “Wow.” She made a mental note to do an additional vetting of the people who’d work for her, even if outsourced, in the future. No one with prior battery charges should be part of security at a virgin auction. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t have enough to go to the police yet. I’ll have to keep my eye on these two guys, go talk to them, and look in their eyes.”

  Bile rose up her throat. The idea of Brooks, as large and imposing as he was, talking to men who could have something to do with a possible murder twisted her insides. “That’s dangerous stuff.”

  “I need to know what happened.”

  “All right. What if those two possible guys don’t give you the answers you want to hear or lead you to the truth?”

  He sighed into the phone. “It’s back to the drawing board, and exploring the other employees working that night.”

  She bit her lower lip. If someone who had worked for her had anything to do with the death of his sister, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. “When you go question them…I want to go, too.”

  “No.”

  “Listen, they worked for me and the woman you’re looking for disappeared from my building. I need to be a part of this,” she said, in a voice that left no room for arguing.

  Hours later, after much convincing, she slid into his car. “What’s the plan?”

  Brooks closed her door, then made his way round and sat in the driver’s seat. “Mike Wheeler works at a warehouse about forty minutes from here. We’ll pay him a visit and talk. See if we can shake him up, get some answers.”

  She buckled up, the metal of the safety belt a cold weight in her hands. “Good.”

  He slanted her a glance. “I missed you last night,” he said.

  “Really? How many times did you masturbate?” she asked in a playful mode, desperately trying to ignore the embarrassingly fast beating of her heart.

  He fixed his sunglasses. “It’s not just sex, Alexa, and you know it. But if you won’t deal with it, then so be it.” He drove off, and she looked out the window, pretending to watch the road to avoid the tension growing in the car.

  What did he think she wasn’t dealing with? I have my own way of dealing with emotions, thank you very much. The reply burned at the tip of her tongue, but she bit her inner cheek, confused. The more she repeated those words, the brattier they sounded. Shit, they’d probably sound worse out loud. She stole a glance his way, doing a quick survey of his handsome profile, and wished she could slap him. Another not-so-great attitude, but where did he think they’d get with him pushing her to answer all these questions? A warm current of anger washed over her, and she thinned her lips to keep from saying anything at all. Was she angrier at him or herself?

  “I talked to Scott today. He’s excited about coming to Nevada,” he said, yanking her from her dangerous musings.

  “Jackie said the photographer sent her some amazing pictures,”
she said, ready for a virtual truce.

  “Good. I also emailed her my list of contacts.”

  “Yes. Are these women, hhmmm, women you dated?”

  He laughed, the sound hearty and carefree. “No, darlin’. I don’t think any of my former girlfriends would go for this type of auction.”

  “How do you have their information?” She squared her shoulders, slipping on her professional mask again. She couldn’t let their, er, affair blur the reality of the male auction. She’d never experienced letting anyone but Jackie help her with the House of Alexa events. And even Jackie never had any bold ideas such as his.

  “I deal with a lot of men, but also women. I was born into a well-connected family, with a good share of moneyed widows or sassy divorcees who will jump at this opportunity. It’s a novelty for them. They’ll be into it, not because they really think they’ll go through with it, but for fun. But this will get them talking and spreading the word.”

  “Aren’t you worried about damaging your reputation? I mean, I’m the face of House of Alexa, but it’s impossible for people not to connect the dots. Scott is from Texas, works for you, and you’re—”

  He shrugged. “I doubt these socialite divorcees will be openly bragging about their bids. Besides, it’s a venture like any other one. And if this will make Scott rich, why not? He’s an adult and has accepted the offer. I did nothing to sway him.”

  “Thanks.” Instinctively, she reached for him, and with him steering the wheel with both hands, she patted his leg. She’d meant for the touch to be spontaneous and friendly, but when she felt him tense up under her touch, she removed her hand. “For the first time, I believe you respect what I do.”

  “You educated me about it, and I’m coming around.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. Awareness shot up her arm, but also a gentle, overwhelming sensation of joy. “Coming around, Alexa, is a beautiful thing,” he said, a trace of warning in his voice.

  She slapped on a neutral smile and slowly withdrew her hand. “Eyes on the road and hands on the steering wheel.” She pretended to relax in her seat and once again watch the highway, but his words danced inside her brain like a jazz song.

  …

  “Mike Wheeler?” Brooks said to the man who stacked boxes on top of each other in a large paper supply warehouse. Getting in had been no problem, since a loading truck had distracted the workers from his entering the area with Alexa.

  The blond-haired man, in his forties, nodded at Brooks. “Yeah. Why? Are you the new manager?” He stretched out his hand, smiling. “Boss told me you might come for a visit.”

  Brooks gave him a firm handshake. “I’m not the new manager, but I do need to talk to you.”

  Mike withdrew, frowning. A sheen of sweat covered his bushy eyebrows. “What about?”

  “A woman who went missing while you worked as security for House of Alexa.”

  Mike squinted, as if trying to remember the event, then darted his gaze to Alexa. “Oh. The auctions, right. I haven’t done security work in about six months.”

  “This happened a year ago.” Brooks skimmed the area, to ensure no one was paying attention to their conversation. “Can you take a quick break? I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell my supervisor. Meet me in the diner across the street. Be there in five minutes.”

  Brooks and Alexa marched to the rundown diner, with pictures of local celebrities filling the chipping frames on the walls. Has-been magicians and women who could have been famous strippers back in the day. The menu pages stuck to each other when he tried to open it. “Don’t order anything from here,” he told Alexa after the waitress got their coffee orders.

  “Don’t you like to live dangerously?” Alexa winked at him. “Thanks for worrying about my health.”

  “Anytime.”

  Within a couple minutes, Mike showed up, and sat across from them. The waitress reappeared, and he ordered a beer. “Since you’re not the new manager, I’m guessing you won’t tell on me,” he said after the waitress sauntered away.

  “No problem.” Brooks withdrew his picture of Pamela from his wallet and passed it to Mike. “Name’s Pamela Johnson. She was supposed to be auctioned at House of Alexa about a year ago. Records show you worked that night.” Brooks leaned in, watching the man’s features.

  Mike lifted the picture, staring at it. He tapped his pocket, then retrieved a pair of reading glasses from it and put them on. The neutral expression on his face didn’t give away any particular emotion. “What happened to her?”

  “She’s dead,” Brooks said.

  Alexa nudged Brooks’s leg under the table. “We’re trying to find out what exactly happened. And your help could lead us there.”

  Mike scratched his neck and sat the picture on the table. “I remember her.” He looked at Brooks square in the eye.

  A chilly sensation spilled into his gut. He curled his fingers into fists, leaning into the table. He remembered her. The words thrummed in his veins, causing a turmoil inside.

  “How come?” Alexa asked. “She never met with Jackie, and Jackie said she’d asked security if the girl had arrived. They all denied seeing her.”

  “I never said I saw her at your building. Back then, I was working security in all kinds of places to pay off some gambling debts.” Mike reached for the beer the waitress had brought and took a long sip.

  “Where did you see her?” Brooks asked, oxygen suddenly in short supply.

  “A few days after the auction, I was freelancing as Kace Jarred’s bodyguard. On the way back from a boxing match she came over for a chat with him.”

  Alexa drummed her fingers on the table. “Kace Jarred? Are you sure?”

  “Who’s that?” Brooks asked. Unlike what he’d assumed, Pamela hadn’t been kidnapped or disappeared prior to the auction. The new development brought a headache to him, too many thoughts darting at once.

  Concern darkened Alexa’s eyes. “He owns brothels outside Vegas. Sometimes he does online virginity auctions. We have very different…business practices.”

  A pang of dread touched his spine. She didn’t need to spell it out for him to assume this Kace guy was a sleazeball. “Do you think she skipped your auction to have some leverage? To up her price or something crazy like that?” he asked her.

  “Maybe this guy made her a last-minute offer she couldn’t pass up,” Mike offered, his voice casual, like he talked about this kind of subject on the daily.

  “Doesn’t make sense, though. She could make a lot more money on my auction than with him,” Alexa said.

  “I’d be careful with dealing with him…he’s a loose cannon,” Mike said, before downing his beer.

  “What do you know about Kace Jarred? Has he mentioned my sister?”

  Mike popped his knuckles, then stretched himself on his seat. “Look, man, I don’t know much. I worked as security a few times for him, but I don’t pay attention to what people say.”

  “Do you know anyone who knows him well?” Alexa asked.

  Mike fixed his glasses. “Yeah. My former roommate Andrea used to bartend in one of his brothels.”

  “Good. We may need to talk to her.” Brooks grabbed his wallet, took a few hundred-dollar bills and gave them to him. “Thanks for your time. Do you have a cell phone number if we need to get a hold of you?”

  Mike put the money in his front pocket with a small smile. “I’m not in trouble, right? I’m not going to have a cop knocking on my door or something?”

  Brooks waved him off. “No. Not unless you run your mouth about our little chat.”

  Mike tapped his pocket, where he’d put his money, and tilted his head in agreement. “I won’t. I don’t want any trouble.”

  “You’re quiet,” Alexa said on the drive from the warehouse after they’d said goodbye to Mike.

  Brooks ran his finger
s into his hair, frustrated. His sister had fled House of Alexa of her own accord, possibly to accept a higher rate somewhere else. That put a wrench in his strategy, and now he had to figure out all he could about Kace. “I have no clue as to how she died. I mean, just because she went to a different auction place doesn’t mean that guy killed her.”

  “No it doesn’t.”

  “What if this whole time I’ve been following my instinct, and my instinct is wrong?”

  She leaned closer, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re doing what you can. Don’t beat yourself up for it. Do you still want to meet with the other guy?”

  Oh, yeah. He’d almost forgotten. The other dude with a previous battery charge in his criminal record. Tony Brogan. “Yes. We’ll pay him a visit next. Liam said he works security and also part-time as a personal trainer at a gym.” He reached for the GPS system in the car and punched the address of the gym Liam had given him. “Brogan should still be there for another hour or so.” He shoved his foot on the pedal, a rush of adrenaline sweeping over him.

  “And you also want to talk to Kace Jarred?” she asked, a note of apprehension in her voice.

  “Yeah. I’ve come this far. But I’ll prepare first. See who I’m dealing with, then pay him a visit.” To see Kace, he probably needed to gather more information to have the upper hand in their interaction. Questioning Mike and soon Tony at their places of work was quite different than intruding into Kace’s territory unannounced, if he were in fact a dangerous son of a bitch capable of murdering his sister. “We’ll talk to this guy, then I’ll drive you back to your office.”

  “Don’t drive me back to my office. I want to be with you the rest of the day,” she said.

  Her offer caused a hot throb to awake his nerve endings. “Are you sure?” he huffed. Hell, the last thing he wanted was to be charity. After dinner the previous night, she’d distanced herself, and he’d chastised himself for pushing her too far with his questions—questions that had zero to do with what had happened to Pamela. He’d missed Alexa but had decided to give her space. And now she was suggesting they spend more time together. Why not? If he were honest with himself, the way he felt about Alexa stopped having anything to do with finding out about his sister a long time ago.