“Brad was confident his new firm could make a name for itself. I offered to give a percentage of my portfolio to the hedge fund, and he happily took the investment.” Gareth reached out, taking a lock of her hair and twisting it around his finger. It was evident he’d been taken to another place and time. “Only there was one unexceptional caveat.”
It was then that the light bulb that had come close to shattering yesterday began to brighten.
“Brad didn’t want anyone to know that the two of you were related.” Cynthia made the statement, but couldn’t connect the dots just yet. “But why? One would think having you invest…”
Cynthia didn’t finish her sentence, because it finally became clear why Brad had made such an incidental request. His pride had always been on the high side, but it hadn’t become dark until a few years ago.
“Brad thought people inside the industry would view my investment as a handout versus me having faith in his abilities, so he asked me to keep our family affiliation quiet. I gave my word, Cyn.”
“We kept our involvement quiet for the most part because of my position, but you and Brad had a rather heated exchange around three or four months into it. That argument was about our relationship, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Gareth gave her an endearing grin before smoothing her hair back in place. “I told him enough time had passed since the inception of the firm that no one would care about our family connection. He felt very differently. Look, we weren’t close. I realized early on that he wanted nothing to do with me personally. The only reason he wanted even the slightest association had everything to do with my money. I should have pulled my investment long ago because of that, but he was damned good at turning a profit. It made good business sense to stay. So, we came to a mutually beneficial agreement.”
Cynthia recalled the week before Brad was murdered. He’d marched into her office and all but demanded to know if she had been seeing Gareth. As of yet, she had no idea how he’d initially come to discover her relationship with his brother.
In her usual fashion, she wasn’t in the least embarrassed about the time she’d spent with Gareth. Did it break any professional rules? No, but it certainly didn’t look ethical for the firm’s compliance office to be dating a client, even though she didn’t have anything to do with his investment portfolio.
That entire confrontation led to Gareth discovering that Brad had demanded she end things, and now she—for the first time—understood the reason why. That didn’t negate the fact that other employees had heard Gareth threatening to kill Brad…figuratively.
“Thank you,” Cynthia whispered, raising up to press her lips against his. She wouldn’t apologize for overreacting at first, per se. Anyone would have been angry to discover such a secret that could in adversely affect her career. “I appreciate your honesty, Gareth.”
He pushed her back down, kissing her passionately and letting her know that he had no intention of letting her get out of bed anytime soon. It was a good thing it was Saturday. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t set foot outside this hotel room for the next forty-eight hours.
It was also a good thing this lovely hotel had five-star room service.
“I would give my life before ever intentionally hurting you. If you didn’t know it by now, Cyn, I love you very much.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gareth walked into the offices of Manon Investments, soon to be Gallo Capital Management. It was going on seven-thirty in the morning, and the office was alive with busy people moving here and there on a mission. Minneapolis was on central time, which meant the market’s opening would be taking place in just an hour from now. He wasn’t surprised to see the majority of the staff getting ready for the day, the receptionist behind her desk, and the televisions already fired up in the trading room.
“Gareth, it’s good to see you again,” Laurel said, walking past him in the foyer with a smile and a cup of coffee in her hand. She’d obviously spoken to Cynthia this morning, although it had to have been after she’d left the hotel at five-thirty to head back to her place so that she could grab a clean outfit. “Will you be using the guest office today?”
“Yes. Actually, I’m hoping to use it for the rest of this week.” Marilyn had taken notice of his arrival and was already out of her seat. “I don’t fly out until Friday. Good morning, Marilyn.”
Laurel continued to head in the direction of her office while Marilyn showed him to the guest office the firm set aside for visiting clients. She took in that he was carrying a cup of coffee from the downstairs café, along with a protein smoothie for Cynthia.
The weekend had gone by faster than either of them had wanted, but every minute had been uniquely treasured. They’d spent more time talking and getting to know one another than they had making love, which was a turn of events that each of them expressed their appreciation for earlier this morning. Who would have thought that they’d be laughing at four o’clock on a Sunday morning about the shapes of their mate’s toes? She’d gone into a long explanation of why the right pedicure could make the ugliest feet look as if they should appear on a saddle commercial.
“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Nicollet?”
“No, thank you.” Gareth set down the disposable tray holder he’d been carrying in his right hand on the desk before doing the same with his briefcase. “This will be fine. Has the guest password changed recently?”
“No, it’s the same as before. Paul has a breakfast meeting, but he’s due back to the office around ten o’clock. Would you like me to put you on his schedule?”
“Please. I’d appreciate that.” Gareth had quite a few things to go over with Paul, but there was someone else he needed to speak with regarding his investments. That was one topic that he and Cynthia had avoided, but he completely understood her position on the matter. “Is Smith in this morning?”
“Yes, he arrived about an hour ago.”
Gareth would have followed Marilyn out of the guest office, but she made no attempt to leave. As a matter of fact, her fingers were laced tightly in front of her as she stood at attention. She obviously wanted to speak with him, but she was waiting for his cue.
“Is there something else?” Gareth asked cautiously, having heard numerous rumors about almost every employee in the firm while talking with Cynthia this weekend.
His brother had been murdered in cold blood, the police investigation appeared to focus on the staff, and Cynthia’s friends had reluctantly been drawn into the case for various different reasons.
He never should have flown to Dubai.
“I just want to express my condolences. I’m so, so sorry for the loss of your brother.”
For a brief moment, Gareth wondered if he’d heard Marilyn incorrectly. He and Cynthia hadn’t gotten the most quality of sleep this weekend, so it was possible that he’d misinterpreted the conversation.
“If there’s anything else I can get you, please let me know.”
Marilyn offered him a comforting smile and a nod before separating her hands to return to her desk.
“Marilyn, how exactly did you discover that Brad and I were related?” Gareth abruptly asked, not willing to let this matter slide. No one outside of Brad, Paul, and the previous compliance officer were aware of the familial connection. “I apologize if I’m coming across as being a bit too abrupt, but the relationship Brad and I had was rather…artificial.”
“Oh, please don’t think I told anyone,” Marilyn said rather anxiously, appearing rather worried that she’d done something wrong. She was back to wringing her hands. It hadn’t been Gareth’s intention to upset her, but it was rather important to find out how she’d come to be aware of his connection to Brad. That kind of information could aid in the police investigation. “I was taking notes in a meeting that Paul had with Michael when the firm opened its doors. He realized his mistake immediately and swore me to secrecy. I promise you that I haven’t said a word to anyone including the authorities, which is why I waited until I had
a private moment with you before extending my condolences.”
It made sense, but Paul should have come clean with Gareth about the fact that someone else was privy to his information. It did beg the question who else knew his private information.
“It’s fine, Marilyn. I didn’t mean for you—”
“Gareth, it’s good to see you. I heard you were in town.” Smith stood in the frame of the office doorway, cutting off Gareth’s apology. The man was wearing one of his tailored suits and looking right at home in his newly acquired firm. This man might come from wealth, but he was one of the most dedicated, hardworking men in his profession. “I’m not sure what your schedule is for the day, but I’d love to sit down and talk to you about the future of our newly established fund.”
Marilyn retreated back to her desk while the two men shook hands. Gareth made a mental note to ask her more questions sometime later today.
“I have a quick phone call to make, but then I’m all yours.”
“I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.”
Smith walked back out to the foyer, engaging in a conversation with Marilyn. The bit of privacy gave Gareth time to settle into the guest office. He took a couple of contracts out of his briefcase that one of his lawyers asked him to sign and scan back by the end of the day. There were a couple of phone calls he needed to place as well, but he’d wait until Cynthia made an appearance.
The protein smoothie he’d bought would only last so long. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. Cynthia should have arrived by now. He didn’t bother to close the blinds, seeing that the large floor to ceiling window gave him a wide-open view of the foyer. It would be nice to see her smiling face coming toward him first thing.
Smith’s reappearance caught Gareth by surprise. The man’s expression said everything, bringing Gareth to his feet.
“You might want to give Cynthia a call,” Smith said in a rather grim tone. “My father just gave me a heads up. Detective Nielsen is about to bring Kurt Langston into the police station for questioning in regard to Brad’s murder.”
Cynthia gave her apartment a quick glance, satisfied with the way it looked. The modern décor fit her personality, along with the antiques she’d been able to sprinkle in throughout the blended arrangement. The design was rather unique and fit her personality. She was rather meticulous, but there had been a few odds and ends she’d needed to do before bringing Gareth home this evening.
It was time to have a conversation that his hotel room was no longer needed.
Gareth’s home base was in New York, where his family still resided. Lately, he’d been spending more and more time in Minneapolis. He always stayed at The Foshay, but she planned on surprising him today with his own key to her apartment. After this weekend, and basically the last month, there was no reason to wait a second longer.
Cynthia grabbed her keys off the artistic bowl she’d purchased at one of the art museums downtown. She tucked the grey clutch purse she’d decided to use due to the slate coloring matching the pantsuit she’d changed into after her shower. The black heels she’d chosen to wear on Friday had been such good luck that she preferred to keep the momentum moving steadily forward.
Another quick glance in the mirror she’d hung in her small entryway, and she was ready to face the day.
Or so she thought.
It didn’t take her long to ride the elevator downstairs, having taken only a moment to speak with Mrs. Ganglia. The elderly woman had collected her mail and was making her way to her apartment. It was rare that Cynthia was ever running this late, so she took advantage of the moment and stopped to chat about the upcoming winter the meteorologists were warning would be a bitter one.
“You take care of yourself, Mrs. Ganglia. I’m sure I’ll see you at one of the holiday luncheons.”
Cynthia had used the parking garage when she’d pulled in this morning, so she veered in that direction versus walking toward the main lobby. A smile blossomed on her lips as she thought about Gareth’s reaction to the extra key she’d tucked into the inside zippered pocket of her purse.
He’d told her that he loved her.
No other man had ever said those three words to her.
In that moment, her thoughts had been so scrambled that she’d kissed him—fervently. One thing led to another until neither one of them spoke for hours, and the time never felt right to reciprocate those words. She certainly didn’t want to say them during sex, and then they’d gotten to sharing their pasts and talking about their dreams for the future.
The lone key she was about to give him should speak volumes, but she’d rehearsed a small speech that would leave no doubt where she stood in this relationship.
“Cynthia, do you have a moment?”
She had to be hearing things. Cynthia stopped just short of the glass door that led to the parking garage. There was just enough reflection in the glass to make out the man who’d called her name from behind her.
Karma really was a bitch.
“Kurt, what the hell are you doing here at my apartment building?”
Cynthia took her time in facing the one person she could have gone the rest of her life without ever setting eyes on again. Nausea caused a couple of waves in her stomach, and she was grateful that she hadn’t had time to drink her usual glass of orange juice this morning. The added acid would have done the trick.
Kurt had aged in the three years since she’d last seen him, though it was to his advantage. The greying edges made him appear even more prominent and trustworthy than before, camouflaging that he was nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Why was it that men who began to grey early were considered distinguished and women just looked older?
It was blatantly unfair.
“We need to talk about that letter you turned in to the police.”
Cynthia debated on whether or not to allow him to believe that she was the one who had contacted Detective Nielsen, but then thought better of it.
There’d been enough lies between the two of them.
She wouldn’t resort to his level.
“I had nothing to do with the discovery of that particular letter.” Cynthia tightened her grip on the keys in her hand. She was still coming to terms with his audacity to seek her out at her home. He had no right, but this wasn’t a fight she was willing to have first thing this morning. “Whatever you have to say can be said to the police. We have nothing to discuss. Please excuse me.”
“Cynthia, I admit that I didn’t want my wife to found out about our affair, but—”
“You make it sound like I was even slightly aware that we were having an extramarital affair,” Cynthia corrected, unable to go with her original decision to drop this subject matter. She hated to lose, and this was turning into a battle of wills. “I was clearly deceived into believing we had a relationship. By you. So, I would suggest being very careful on how you word your statement to the police, because it’s already been proven that you have a track record of bending the facts to get what you want.”
“That letter to Brad Manon was not about you.” Kurt glanced behind him, though it wasn’t like anyone else was in the foyer. It was then Cynthia noticed the manner in which he was massaging the back of his neck. He was nervous. “It was about Phil Colbert.”
Cynthia had been in this business long enough to learn to never let her opponent see that he or she had the best of her. Phil Colbert? What the hell was Kurt talking about? A brief moment to digest the news was all she allowed herself before responding.
“Again, whatever you have to say can be said to the authorities.”
Cynthia turned to go, never expecting Kurt to reach for her. The grip on her arm was tight enough to immediately bring her level of awareness to one of defense.
“You have one second to remove your hand or else I’ll make sure that you’ll be in pain for the rest of the day,” Cynthia threatened, ready to drop her purse and keys to do what was necessary. Some would label her a health nut wit
h her wholesome diet and daily exercise. She’d taken several self-defense classes and was perfectly capable of defending herself against a dandy like Kurt. “One…”
Kurt immediately dropped his hand and stepped back, appearing more offended than had she told him to go fuck himself. She still reserved the right to do so.
“I’m trying to save both of our firms, Cynthia. If I go down, Manon Investments goes down with me. It’s the reason I wrote the letter in the first place. You—”
“Kurt Langston?”
Cynthia had been so focused on what Kurt was suggesting that she hadn’t noticed Detective Nielsen and two uniformed officers walking through the lobby.
“Kurt, what is it that you need to say about Phil Colbert?” Cynthia had lowered her voice, gauging the distance between them and the police. She decided it was better to get answers before the firm was blindsided by another scandal. “Tell me now.”
“You really don’t know?”
There was a bit of relief that crossed Kurt’s chiseled features, but Cynthia sensed he still doubted her response. Unfortunately, she ran out of time to obtain any more information.
“Mr. Langston, you’re a hard man to track down.” Detective Nielsen observed what had to appear as some type of cover-up meeting. If Cynthia wasn’t careful, she was going to follow in Grace’s footsteps that led directly to a prison a cell. “Your assistant was gracious enough to call your driver, who in turn led us directly to Ms. Ellsworth’s door.”
Cynthia remained quiet, not wanting to comment on a topic she didn’t have all the facts on without an attorney present. She’d seen the trouble Laurel and Grace had to deal with in regard to Brad’s murder. Vital knowledge had been learned during that time—such as always have a lawyer present.
Opportunity (Office Roulette, Book Three) Page 6
