The Sexy Boss - Sedition: Book Two

by Z. L. Arkadie

  “Please hold,” the woman says.

  After a few seconds, another woman says, “John, hi!”

  I hang up and sniff bitterly. Of course… I suspect that he is, or was, fucking her, too. I put my hand inside my pocket and touch the flash drive that contains the security camera footage. Unfortunately, another heart is about to bite the dust.

  * * *

  2:25 p.m.

  I walk into the bank and stand at the table where customers sign up to speak to an account representative. I don’t have to wait long. A pretty and petite blonde is on her way. She’s smiling as though it’s her birthday.

  “Hi, how can I help you?”

  She wants to flirt, and I need to play that card in order to get what I want. I read her nametag and smile. “Good afternoon, Sara. I would like to speak to Valerie Janis.”

  “Sure!” she says in a high-pitched tone. She can’t be more than twenty-one or twenty-two years old.

  I wink at her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” After a brief hesitation, she struts off, displaying for me perfect posture and swinging hips. I feel terrible about leading on a woman I’m not remotely interested in. I don’t flirt often, but when I do, I’m effective.

  After a moment, Sara walks out with a beautiful blonde who’s at least six inches taller and ten times sexier. I can tell Sara gave her a report about me because she’s watching me curiously.

  “Hi, I’m Valerie Janis. How can I help you?”

  We shake hands. She’s wearing a wedding ring.

  “My name is Nolan Patrick. My father, Bill Patrick, maintained an account here.”

  I see a flash of panic in Valerie’s eyes, but she quickly hides it. She touches Sara’s shoulder. “I can take it from here. Thanks.”

  “Nice meeting you, Mr. Patrick,” Sara says, still smiling.

  Valerie glares at her. She looks at Valerie and heeds the warning.

  “This way please, Mr. Patrick.” Valerie’s expression remains taut. She leads me to her office.

  After we both sit, she tilts her head. “Did you just call, claiming to be John Sharp?”

  I cross my legs and sit up straight. “Do you know John Sharp?”

  She studies me with narrowed eyes. The look on her face says it all.

  “Of course you do,” I say. “So does William Patrick maintain an account at this bank?”

  She folds her hands on top of her desk and straightens her posture to meet mine. “I’m sorry, but that’s confidential information, Mr. Patrick.”

  I glare at her. I can tell that she’s hoping I’ll give up and go now, but she’s prepared to fight just in case I stay and battle her. I take the letter out of my briefcase and put it on her desk. “I found this. Isn’t that your name?”

  She looks down reluctantly. “Yes.” She forces herself to smile.

  “Then William Patrick does have an account at this institution?”

  “I can’t give you any of his account information.”

  I snort facetiously. “You might not think so, but we’re definitely getting somewhere.”

  “Mr. Patrick—”

  “I figure that you let me into your office because you’re curious. I suspect you’ve done something illegal and you wonder how much I know.”

  Valerie breaks eye contact and reaches around her desktop as if she’s looking for something but doesn’t know what it is.

  I put my hand on top of hers. “This is your chance to help me before I send my legal team to officially look into my father’s account and his transactions. I’m precisely interested in a wire transfer he made on November twenty-fourth.”

  She coughs as if she’s choked on her own saliva. I wait until she clears her throat. “We did nothing illegal,” she struggles to say.

  “When you say ‘we,’ do you mean you and John Sharp?”

  “I meant I did nothing illegal.”

  “Did John do something illegal?”

  She folds her arms defiantly. “Unless you have something concrete that I personally have to answer for, then you can leave my office.”

  I narrow an eye. “Are you protecting John?”

  She shakes her head. “I have nothing further to say. You may leave, Mr. Patrick. Now.”

  “Because if you are, then you’re a fool. I will initiate a thorough investigation into my father’s account. I am the executor of his will. Don’t hesitate to think that John won’t throw you in front of the speeding bullet train, because he will. He’s a user, Mrs. Jordan. Do you know he’s married?”

  She shrugs coolly. “He’s getting a divorce.” I don’t think she meant to say that.

  I sneer. “He probably will now that you’ve helped him get what he wanted. But don’t think you’re going to factor into his plans for eternal bliss.”

  She frowns as if she’s confused by what I just said.

  “You’re not the only woman he’s used.”

  “John and I are just friends.”

  I narrow one eye suspiciously. “John doesn’t have ‘just friends.’”

  She shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

  I take the flash drive out of my pocket. “Mrs. Jordan, can I please show you something?”

  She looks a little confused. That’s a good sign. Valerie clears her throat and stares into my eyes. For a second, I think she’s going to tell me to go eat shit.

  “Please. It’ll only take a minute,” I say.

  She sighs and throws up her hands.

  I take that as an invitation to proceed and hand her the flash drive. “Put that in your computer and open the Security 2 file.”

  Valerie takes it and does as I ask. “It’s a video?”

  “Hit play.”

  She looks at me questioningly.

  “Go on; do it,” I say.

  She clicks her mouse, and the video plays. I watch her eyes grow wider as the scene progresses. Deep down inside, I’m jumping for joy. The heated look in her eyes says I’ve got her just where I want her.

  The video ends. Valerie peers at me. Her face has turned beet red, and her lips are clenched. “Okay, Mr. Patrick. Speaking of videos, I have something you might be interested in seeing.”

  * * *

  4:58 p.m.

  After what I saw on video, I don’t want John anywhere near the North Star Holdings building or any other place that Liza or I may own. The sooner he’s out of our lives, the better. And I’m steaming mad, so much so that I have to remind myself to drive sensibly. Snow is still on the roads.

  I sent everything I have on John to Pete, who thought we should meet with John and his lawyer sooner rather than later. He made a call to John, and he agreed to meet us at Pete’s office today at five o’clock. I’m stuck in rush-hour traffic, which could be worse if it wasn’t for the holidays, but I’m five minutes away.

  I contemplate calling Abby. I don’t have much time, but it would be great to hear her voice and to let her know that I’m still thinking about her. She starred in my fantasy last night and the night before. I was thinking about taking a quick trip to St. Kitts and joining her for New Year’s Eve. I would love for her lips to be the first I kiss next year.

  Traffic lets up, and I drive at a normal speed. I press the phone button on my steering wheel. “Call Abby.”

  “Calling Abby, cell,” the system says.

  The call buzzes once and goes straight to voicemail.

  I sigh forcefully. She doesn’t even have a personal greeting on her voicemail system. It’s the standard automated ‘you’ve reached this number now leave a message’ greeting. If only I could hear her voice, that, at least, would be something.

  I drive into the parking lot and park next to John’s candy-apple-red Mercedes Benz. I get out and slam my door shut. The guy is such a tool. John is from a small town in Florida. He grew up very poor but managed to make it to college. He met Liza at Nebraska State University. They have been married for five years, and by far, Liza got the short end of the deal. From the very beginni
ng, he’s been a hack. In the early days, he and Liza would go out to dinner with Kelsey and me at least twice a month, and the guy had the worst case of roaming eyes. He liked to talk about how well our business was doing, hoping to convince me to let him in. I refused to give him any role in North Star Holdings, and Bill strongly agreed. There’s no way my father changed his mind about that snake in the grass.

  I walk into Pete’s office. His receptionist, a pretty redhead in her early twenties, looks up at me.

  “Good afternoon, Nolan,” Carrie says.

  I close the door behind me. “Afternoon, Carrie,” I say, failing to smile, mostly because I can smell John’s heavy cologne.

  “They’re in the office. You know the way.”

  “Thanks.” I go right in.

  As soon as I enter the office, John sneers at me and looks at his wristwatch. “You’re late.”

  I sniff disdainfully and sit down right next him, purposely getting too close for his comfort.

  John loosens his shoulders and rolls his chair a couple of inches away from mine. “And what’s this all about anyway?” He points at the data projector set up on the table.

  “It’s about you being a busy boy,” I say.

  “I am busy. So get on with it.”

  Pete and I look at each other. I nod, giving him the floor.

  “Got something for you to see.” Pete turns on the projector.

  John and I glare at each other. He’s the first to look away and adjust in his seat. “You’re going to have admit, buddy, that Bill left some things to me. I’m his son-in-law!”

  It’s best if I don’t say a word. I’m so angry that I have to narrow my eyes to slits in order to focus on his face.

  “It’s ready,” Pete calmly says.

  “Then roll it,” I say through clenched teeth.

  Pete hits the On button, and the room lights dim automatically. The video of John taking the Acquisition and Deed files out of the building plays from the moment he arrives at the North Star Holdings building, until when he kisses Misty in the parking lot then drives off.

  I look at John to the gauge his reaction. He’s trying not to meet my gaze.

  I sniff bitterly. I’ve got him.

  The second video plays, and it’s a doozy. It’s the one Valerie gave me. Onscreen, John is wheeling my father into the bank. Bill appears to be out of it, and I’d never seen my father in that condition in my life. I suspect that it was a temporary state, induced by John. They’re in a private room. Valerie admitted that she had taken John to the room where transactions are recorded because she doubted his credibility. John puts a pen in Bill’s hand. He’s saying something in his ear. Valerie looks uncomfortable as she watches. She says something to John, but he holds up a hand. She looks up as if there’s a knock at the door. She holds up a finger and scurries out of the room. While she’s gone, John takes my father’s hand and signs the document for him.

  I look over at Pete and nod. He turns off the projector, and the lights turn on. I take the receipt for the wire transfer out of my coat pocket and hold it up.

  “Not my father’s signature,” I say.

  John fidgets nervously. He shakes his head as if he can’t believe he’s been caught.

  “Don’t be surprised, Johnny Boy—you were sloppy as hell. You should’ve divorced my sister and sued for alimony. That would’ve been your best bet.”

  “It’s called ‘spousal maintenance’ in Minnesota,” Pete says.

  “And… you could be a cheating-ass fucker and still get your riches—at least a decent proportion—but now, you’ll get nothing. You broke the law, ex-brother-in-law, and on more than one occasion.”

  John looks away as if he’s contemplating. I wink at Pete, and he winks back. We’ve officially caught this rascal by his toe.

  John sighs forcefully. “Okay. So what do you want from me?”

  “You tell your lawyer the truth and get the fuck out of my life.”

  “What about Liza?” he asks.

  “Then you divorce my sister just as you planned in the first place, and whatever she wants, you give to her. And, oh, you get no spousal support… not a dime.”

  If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man—but then, so would John.

  * * *

  9:39 p.m.

  I’m in Liza’s living room, and we’re both sitting on the sofa. I have just used my phone to show Liza the video. I had to. As a good brother who loves his sister, I had no choice. Tears stream from her eyes, and I feel awful about it. If only John had been the kind of man she deserves…

  “What am I going to do now?” Her voice and bottom lip tremble.

  “I’m sorry, Liza.”

  She looks at me strangely then massages her temples. “He was screwing Misty? The bank manager I can see, but Misty?”

  “I’m sorry that I had to be the one to bring this to you.”

  She snorts. “You’re the only one who I want to bring something like this to me. Has John seen this video?”

  “Pete and I met with him this afternoon. I showed it to him.” I fill her in on the reckless but elaborate scheme he devised to get his hands on her money. “Maybe he thought I trusted him more than I did.”

  She chuckles bitterly. “He knew you weren’t his biggest fan, but he had no idea how much you truly abhorred him. I convinced him that you were just a protective brother but had nothing personal against him. It was my way of keeping the peace.” She sighs. “Gosh, was I a fool or what?”

  I put my arm around her, and she rests her head on my shoulder. “You’re not a fool.”

  We sit in silence for a long time, like we used to do when we were younger.

  “I guess I have to divorce him now,” she says after what feels like fifteen minutes.

  I don’t express my elation. Instead, I squeeze her tighter and kiss her on the forehead.

  “I can’t even trust him with Aiden. I mean, what is he? A sociopath?”

  I want to say that she hit the nail right on the head, but I think better of it. “You’re going to be fine, sis. You’re young, beautiful, and smart. I know at least ten guys who wondered why you chose John over them.”

  Her tender sobs turn into a soft chuckle. She nudges me gently on the arm. “I can’t believe you.”

  “What?”

  “I know, deep inside, you’re jumping for joy.”

  “Yes, but I love you too much to rub it in your face.”

  She looks up at me. Liza and I have our father’s light-blue eyes. “Or to say I told you so?”

  I smile. “I would never say I told you so.”

  “But you did tell me so.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We live and learn.”

  Crying erupts on the baby monitor, and Liza runs upstairs to see about Aiden. Later, Liza, Aiden, and I eat dinner. I sleep in the guest room just to be around in case John shows up. By morning, he hasn’t come home. As we eat breakfast at the table, Liza bounces Aiden on her leg. She admits that John hardly ever comes home. As I figured, there have been issues with their marriage all along.

  Liza has Aiden on her nipple again. “And you want to know what?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t even cry over him last night. I wanted to but couldn’t. I can’t…”

  Once again, I’m forced to bite my tongue. I want to say, “Good for you, kiddo.” Instead, I smile in a way that lets her know I’m always going to be on her side.

  7

  Nolan

  Wednesday, December 30

  * * *

  8:48 a.m.

  It’s 9:48 a.m. on the island of St. Kitts. I lie in Liza’s guest bed and place a call to Abby. Hopefully, she’s up. I want to ask if she would like me to fly to the Caribbean so that we can spend New Year’s Eve together. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind—especially if she misses me half as much as I miss her.

  The call goes straight to voicemail. Then I wait for the beep. “Hello, Abby. This is Nolan again. We’re still playing phone tag
. Hey, I wanted to run something by you…” My heart is beating a mile a minute. For a second, I consider the possibility of her having plans with her family and friends for New Year’s Eve—hell, perhaps she has another guy she’s hanging out with for the night. “How about I fly to St. Kitts tomorrow so we can, you know, spend New Year’s Eve together? Give me a call as soon as you get this.”

  I hear a beep before I end the call. Hoping that it’s Abby, I hit the green button without glancing at the name.

  “Nolan?”

  I sigh, disappointed. “Kelsey. What do you want?”

  “Have you forgotten our dinner tonight?”

  I wish I had. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Just calling to confirm. I haven’t heard a peep from you.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “With who? Abby?”

  I sigh hard, right into the phone. “I’m not discussing Abby with you.”

  “Well… we’ll see. I’ll see you at dinner. Seven thirty at Novelty.”

  “Got it,” I say. “Is that it?”

  She’s silent.

  “Kelsey?”

  “You don’t have to be sharp with me, Nolan—especially when I love you.”

  I’m slightly taken aback but apprehensive about having her explain what she means by loving me. “I’ll see you tonight then,” I say.

  She hangs up without saying goodbye. Something is definitely going on with her. I’ve been so busy trying to skin a rat named John Sharp that I haven’t paid much attention to Kelsey. There have been a few things off about her, like the way she was holding on to me at the funeral. Liza was right—she was way too touchy-feely. Then she’s having meetings with our bank. Deep down, I know that I have to be prepared for whatever shit Kelsey wants to toss across the dinner table.

  I call Abby a few more times, but each call goes directly to voicemail. In the second message, I let her know that I’m going to schedule a chartered flight and fly out anyway. Maybe it’ll be easier to contact her once I get to the island. I call Destiny, my travel agent in Chicago, and she rents me a luxury villa on the hill above Turtle Beach.