Every Waking Moment

by Meryl Sawyer

  “I don’t suppose the strip club has her Social Security number.”

  He chuckled, deciding now really was not the time to bare his so-called soul. Why tell Taylor something that was damn sure to hurt her? Wait until their relationship was on a more solid footing. He was making progress with her.

  “No. The club pays the girls in cash. My contact did have one interesting comment. Girls come and go at the club. They’re all hookers.”

  Taylor put her hand over her eyes, then whispered, “Maybe she’s an exception.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the cops who work the area know Renata by name. They never arrested her for prostitution, but word has it she’s into rough sex. She gets big bucks for it.”

  “No wonder she wants to live here. She had the nerve to ask me for a job at Maxx.”

  “Just what you need.”

  “I told her to forget it.”

  Shane leaned down to pat Auggie who was sitting at his feet. Something was going on inside the company, and it wasn’t as simple as someone sabotaging them. He decided not to worry Taylor until he knew exactly what was happening.

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  If she only knew how damn good at keeping secrets he was.

  “Sure. I won’t tell anyone.”

  He made an X over is heart.

  Just in case.

  He had the smarts not to hope to die.

  “We had a meeting tonight at the SoBe loft my brother shares with Raoul. Uncle Doyle and Brianna were there along with Trent. Of course, Raoul was there. He’s gay, you know, like my brother.”

  No kidding.

  “So, we’re all a family. We needed to discuss what to do about Renata. Uncle Doyle discovered my mother intends to change her will.”

  Why was he not surprised?

  “We’re all afraid that if Renata is left part of the company, she might block the sale or hold it up for a while. We want to outmaneuver her.”

  “The DNA is your best bet.”

  “Yes. Everyone is counting on it.” She shook her head slowly. “There were a lot of other ideas tossed out. Raoul even wanted to hire a Cuban hit man he knows to kill her.”

  “What? That’s crazy.”

  “You’re right. I told them I wouldn’t listen to talk like that, but the men thought it wasn’t a bad idea.”

  “I know Renata is excited about To The Maxx, but when the time comes, I think money will be more appealing to her than actually working. I’d give her a hard, grunt work job right now, so she won’t think it’s glamorous.”

  “I don’t want her around—period.”

  “What if your mother insists?”

  Taylor stared at the wall for a moment, thinking. “I guess I wouldn’t have any choice. My mother is dying. I don’t want to upset her.”

  “If it comes to it, give her a grunt job.”

  “She can have my job. It’s not glamorous.”

  “I think she’d take it in a heartbeat. Then you could work on your computer game.”

  Taylor thought a moment. “I’m trying to find a way to make longer trivia work in a game format. Like the saying, ‘It’s raining cats and dogs.’ It comes from the Middle Ages when floors in houses were dirt and the roofs were thatched straw. It was where animals went to get warm.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said, edging closer to her. “How would they get up on the roof?”

  “There was always a woodpile on one side of the house. It went up to the roof or close enough for the pets as well as rats and mice to jump up to where the heat was rising and the straw was warm. But when it rained, the straw became slippery and the animals fell off the roof.”

  “So, it was raining cats and dogs, right?”

  “Right. I need to get it down to a few lines for it to work in this game’s format.” She gazed off across the room for a moment. “I could save the longer trivia for another game. That might be a better idea than trying to force interesting trivia into one-liners.”

  She was so cute thinking about the game. He was tempted to kiss her, but hell, he’d ruin everything. He’d waited this long, come this far to find her. He could bide his time.

  Taylor walked into the Coral Gables home where she’d grown up, calling, “Mother, it’s me.”

  “Terrace,” Pablo informed her with a Cuban accent, “breakfast.”

  Taylor braced herself, thinking how much she dreaded this, but after leaving Shane last night, she’d been unable to stop thinking about her mother changing her will. Her uncle and brother were upset enough to talk about taking drastic measures like hiring someone to kill Renata.

  The fine hairs across the back of her neck prickled just recalling the way Raoul had suggested it, as if it were a viable option.

  She should have walked out right then, but she hadn’t. Expecting her brother and uncle to pounce on Raoul, she’d stayed only to listen to the men seriously discuss it for a moment until she cut them off. Brianna, of course, had sided with her.

  Getting her mother alone to have a talk might help, she thought Taylor had hardly seen her mother—and never alone—since Renata had arrived. She wanted to gauge her mother’s frame of mind and give her a chance to explain why she was changing the will.

  Taylor needed to stall her until the DNA test was completed.

  “Good morning, darling,” her mother called.

  Taylor walked into the terrace room overlooking the pool and garden. The room was the most casual in the house with its sunny exposure and West Indies decor.

  Taylor mustered a smile for Caleb, who was sitting at the table with her mother. She’d taken an instant dislike to the man when she’d met him in New Orleans. Part of it was instinctual, but the way he allowed his daughter to work in a strip club while he did nothing increased her feelings.

  There was something else about him that disturbed her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. In his own way, he was charming especially when he was around her mother.

  “Hey, Taylor,” Caleb said while she kissed her mother’s cheek. “Have some breakfast.”

  Why was he offering her breakfast in her mother’s house? He grinned at her, trying to be nice, but she couldn’t muster a smile.

  “I’ve eaten. I just stopped by to see how Mother is doing.”

  “I’m fine,” her mother replied, her voice upbeat. “The blood work shows no change from the last test.”

  “That’s great!”

  No wonder she seemed so happy. Her previous tests had shown she was steadily becoming more anemic and her immune system had gone haywire. The doctors monitored it with a weekly blood test and adjusted her medications accordingly.

  “You came by yesterday afternoon while we were at the hospital,” Caleb said, his dark eyes assessing her under drawn brows.

  Taylor sat in the rattan chair next to her mother, grateful she had a cover story ready. Beneath a thin veneer of charm that had her mother fooled, Caleb Bassett was a cunning man with a ruthless streak.

  “I had a meeting with a new vendor, and I wanted to pick up the notebook my father kept in the library on using botanicals in cosmetics. Much better than chemicals.”

  “I see,” he said, still staring at her.

  An unwelcome lurch of fear struck Taylor, and she realized Caleb knew she’d been in his room.

  How?

  She’d been so very careful. Refusing to be cowed, she brazened it out and kept looking at him.

  “Is Renata still asleep?” she asked.

  “Oh, heavens, no,” her mother replied, obviously missing the undercurrent between Taylor and Caleb. “She so excited about To The Maxx. She wanted to be there when it opened.”

  It was all Taylor could do not to groan out loud. Of all the nerve. The stripper knew how Taylor felt about her, yet she’d gone over her head to Vanessa.

  “You told her that she could have a job?”

  “Of course. Just like me, Renata has a knack for cosmetics,” her mother gushed. “When she came
home yesterday, she knew almost as much about the business as I do. She just loves it.”

  Caleb’s smug smile told Taylor all she needed to know. The family was in real trouble. She didn’t know exactly what Caleb and Renata were up to, but she wasn’t letting them get away with it.

  She stood up, saying, “Mother, may I speak to you alone for a few minutes? You’ll excuse us, won’t you, Caleb?”

  “Sure,” he said, picking up the paper on the chair beside him, “take your time. I’ll be right here reading the news.”

  Her mother swayed as she rose to her feet, and Taylor was reminded of how frail the once vivacious woman had become. The blood test may have shown no deterioration, but anyone who knew her mother could see she was slipping fast.

  She took her mother’s arm and led her out of the terrace room, down the hall, and to the library where her father had reigned for so many years. The formal room could have been part of a library in an Ivy League college. Dark wood, leather-bound books, maroon suede wing-back chairs.

  No one had touched this room since her father’s death. Just being here made Taylor feel the power of his presence.

  Some people will be with us always, in the way we live, the way we love. This saying often came to mind, she realized, because it was so true.

  Her parents had shaped her life. They weren’t perfect, but what family was? Still, the power of their love had made her secure.

  Their love had given her inner strength. And now she was going to need it.

  “Is something the matter?” her mother asked.

  Taylor didn’t really know what to say. She’d been warned not to mention the will and get the attorney in trouble.

  “I just haven’t had a chance to talk to you privately in so long. How are things going? I understand you invited Caleb and Renata to live with you.”

  Her mother gingerly lowered herself into a chair, and Taylor sat on the ottoman in front of her.

  “Yes, I want to get to know my daughter. What better way is there? It took a lot of doing, but Caleb convinced Renata to move here.”

  Taylor summoned a half smile and managed to nod.

  Caleb. Who else?

  The mother she’d known all her life would have been too savvy to allow a man like Caleb to manipulate her. And she wouldn’t have accepted Renata as her daughter without better proof.

  “I’m surprised you’re not spending more time with Renata,” Taylor said, trying to edge into a conversation about the stripper.

  Her mother’s smile was straight from the heart. “I have Caleb to keep me company. I want Renata to start a new career. She’s never had the benefit of a first-class education the way you have.”

  A surge of bitter jealousy threatened to force her to say something she might regret. Taylor bit down on the inside of her cheek and reminded herself that her mother had a terminal illness.

  Don’t upset her.

  The DNA test couldn’t come back soon enough. Taylor realized there would be no reasoning with her mother until she had proof Renata Rollins was not her daughter.

  “I understand how you feel about Renata,” Taylor said, remembering Shane’s advice about finding some difficult job for the stripper to do. “I’ll see Renata learns the business, but if we sell it, the new owners may not keep any of us.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  “So, what are you doing today?” Taylor asked, although she already knew her mother had an appointment with the attorney about her will.

  “Caleb’s taking me to lunch at the Shore Club,” she said.

  It was one of SoBe’s newest and hottest hotels. Another pastel-colored beachfront spot where the hip, young crowd liked to be seen. It wasn’t her mother’s style at all.

  “Caleb can’t believe I haven’t eaten there yet.”

  No doubt her mother was paying for this luncheon. Taylor waited for her mother to add something about the attorney, but she didn’t. There was a hint of the old sparkle in her blue eyes as she smiled at Taylor.

  “Renata tells me you and Shane have something going on, true?”

  Holding raw emotion in check, Taylor managed to say, “That’s ridiculous. Where would she get that idea?”

  Her mother gazed at her for a long moment. “You know, I never liked Paul Ashton. He wasn’t your type. Renata’s right. Shane Donovan would be good for you.”

  Chapter 13

  “You need to see me?” Taylor asked Shane.

  She’d driven from her mother’s home to work, where her secretary handed her an “urgent” message from Shane. Thinking hard, she’d walked to the finance department to find Shane. Why would Renata say something was going on between them?

  Was the stripper determined to cause trouble?

  Of course, was her immediate response. Then she reconsidered. To be totally honest, Taylor had to admit she was attracted to Shane.

  But how would Renata know it? Had she picked up on something Taylor hoped wasn’t obvious to most people?

  “Yep, I wanted to talk to you.” Shane swung around from the computer terminal to face her and smiled.

  Her heart beat a little faster and she did her best to disguise her body’s reaction by keeping a straight face as he looked at her.

  “What do you need to talk about?” she asked, determined not to sound excited to see him.

  There was a disturbing nuance to his smile.

  What was it about him that made her forget she was in love with another man? There was a mysterious side to him that she didn’t quite trust, yet she couldn’t help being drawn to Shane in a way that defied her previous experiences with men—even Paul Ashton.

  Shane was all business. “Renata arrived really early this morning. I was the only one here except for the security guards. She claimed your mother had a job for her.”

  “Right,” she replied, trying not to notice how broad his shoulders were or the masculine dusting of a beard along his jawline even though it was barely noon. “As you predicted, my mother gave Renata a job.”

  Without consulting me.

  “I told Renata you’d found her a place in the shipping department.”

  “Shipping?” It was the lowest rung on the company ladder.

  Shane frowned, saying, “Didn’t we agree to give Renata a position that would demonstrate this is not a glamorous company, if you were forced to give her a job? Didn’t we want to make her work her buns off?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t want Renata to see Maxx as an easy job with lots of perks and no downside.”

  Shipping meant broken nails, packing material that made you sneeze, and a killer deadline to make the UPS pickups.

  Shane nodded thoughtfully. “That’s why I told her that you wanted her in shipping—to learn the business from the bottom up.”

  Taylor tried not to chuckle, remembering when she’d been thirteen and her father had sent her into shipping for the summer ‘to learn the business.’ It had been hell on earth. Hot and cramped and seething with workers who hated her because she was the owner’s daughter.

  Have fun, Renata.

  “Good thinking,” Taylor said. “How did she take it?”

  “Renata was thrilled—or pretended to be. She claims to want to learn all about the business—everything.”

  Taylor almost shuddered. Exactly what her father had wanted to hear years ago when she’d started in shipping. That’s what she’d told him despite keeping the white lie to herself. Even then she’d wanted to run her own game company.

  “How are you progressing on the computer security problem?” she asked.

  “It’s coming along.”

  “There’s one other person I told you about. Jim Wilson. My father let him go. Jim knew a lot about computers.”

  “I’ll check into it.”

  “Do you think it’ll take much longer to fix the problem?”

  “I should have a report for you in a few days.” His words although, spoken in an even tone had an ominous quality to th
em.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He hesitated for an instant. “I think what’s happening may be worse than sabotage.”

  “Worse?” The word vaporized on her lips. Oh, God, she didn’t need any more trouble right now.

  He led her to the computer terminal he was using. “See this picture?”

  On the screen was a full-color photograph of a bottle of Maxxed Out. “It’s our product for treating damaged hair.”

  “Right, and it’s just one of many pictures on your Web site featuring all your cosmetics.” He studied her intently for a moment. “Have you ever heard of steganography?”

  She shook her head, becoming more troubled as he spoke.

  “It’s a Greek word for covered writing. It’s a way of hiding messages in plain sight. To read the concealed message the user has to have a special program on his computer and know the code to get inside your site.”

  “Are you saying there’s a hidden message in that picture of Maxxed Out?”

  “Yes. See what happens when I run it through the program I have on my laptop?”

  He pointed the arrow at the ‘o’ in Out and double-clicked. The entire picture vanished from the screen and was replaced by script and numbers.

  “What’s this?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He double-clicked again and the original picture reappeared. “Don’t mention a word about this to anyone—your uncle, your brother, even your mother.”

  “All right, I won’t, but you must have some idea about what’s going on. Why would anyone want to hide messages on a cosmetics Web site?”

  “Because it’s the last place the police would think to look.”

  She dropped into the chair next to him. “Something illegal?”

  He put his hand on her shoulder and nodded. “Why else would anyone take the trouble to hide messages? It’s one of the ways child pornography is distributed over the Internet.”

  “Oh, God, no,” she cried.

  He squeezed her shoulder gently, saying, “Don’t worry. It’s not kiddie porn. There aren’t any pictures. It’s a lot of script and numbers. I’m trying to figure out just what they mean.”

  She looked around at the other cubicles in the finance department. “Someone here must have done this.”