by Tasha Black
Instead of answering, she burst out of the chair and threw her arms around him.
She felt warm in his arms and she smelled like cinnamon. West hugged her back as hard as he dared.
“Uh, would this be a bad time to ask for a raise?” Dalton asked.
They all laughed, and West let go of Mallory.
“So when do you want to schedule me in to take these things off?” he asked her.
“Just like that?” she asked.
“I was selfish not to tell you about the glitching. I told myself I was only doing it to save my friend,” he looked over at Dalton.
Dalton put a hand on his shoulder.
“But deep down, I was just afraid,” West continued. “And now I’m starting to realize it’s not always about me. So let’s set up a time to get these things off, so you can get to the bottom of it and get Med Pros open for business again.”
“I’ll set up a time to bring the team in,” Mallory said.
West smiled down at her. The woman who had built him, and would break him down again.
She smiled back. Her confidence was enough to assure him that she would figure out how to build him once more.
“And make sure you call Jessica Cross in here as soon as we get it straightened out,” West told her, turning to leave.
“Will do,” she called to him. He could hear the smile in her voice.
“Actually, West.” Dalton’s deep voice was strained. “About that…”
23
The ding of the Worthington Enterprises elevator sent Cordelia’s memory spiraling back, back to the day she had tricked West into meeting with the kids who convinced him to save Medical Prosthetics. He’d been so passionate with her, his dark eyes flashing, his body language telling her he was aroused as well as angry, his chiseled jaw clenched with restraint.
It had all happened right here, in this tiny space. Yet it could not have been further away.
She tried to focus on why she was there, but she was too tired to keep the unwanted thoughts at bay.
Jess hadn’t come home last night, which meant Cordelia hadn’t slept a wink.
Her thoughts swung wildly between horrible scenarios: Jess kidnapped and abused, Jess lost and hurt, Jess with bad kids trying alcohol and drugs.
She had felt terrible about coming in to work today, but what good would she be to anyone sitting at home, worrying?
They had called the police. She had reached out to Dalton. What else was there to do?
Edward’s words rang in her head.
If you want someone who can really call in some favors, we should think about bringing West in on this… He’s crazy about that kid.
The words swirled in her head.
She would have said the same thing before that night. And even the other day, when she’d seen him outside of Worthington Enterprises, and later at the gala, there had been that pull. Just like always. The helpless gravity that told her that West was her own, that her troubles were his and his were hers.
And even that draw, strong as it was, had never been as sure as the open delight and admiration he had for Jessica.
So why had he left Jess high and dry that night?
A little voice in the back of Cordelia’s head told her again, that he must have had a reason.
Should she ask for his help now?
Was she letting her own pride get in the way of what was right for Jess?
Or was she using Jess as an excuse to delude herself about West, and a chance to understand what had happened?
She hadn’t dreamt their mutual attraction.
Her mind took her back to that night in the garden. His big hands all over her. Warm muscle and cool prosthetic teasing and coaxing, as if he had been remade just to pleasure her.
Why had she pushed him away?
She’d been trying to tell herself all along that he was in the wrong.
But she’d begun pushing him away that night in the garden.
If things were ruined, she had no one to blame but herself.
And that thought was harder to bear than any other.
She turned to Peter to bring herself back to reality.
He smiled at her, his eyes sparkling uncharacteristically. He was certainly looking his best today in yet another imported suit and tie. Now that she thought about it, Cordelia realized he’d had a certain spring in his step, a nervous energy buzzing around him all morning. She’d been too nervous herself at having to go to this last-minute meeting at Worthington to notice it until now.
She smiled back, as warmly as she could.
The elevator dinged again to indicate they had arrived.
24
Cordelia was surprised when the elevator doors opened on the board room level.
She’d assumed this was just another meeting with the finance department, to secure funds for Peter’s latest projects. Those types of meetings were held in one of Worthington’s lower level conference rooms.
Her heart skipped a beat as it dawned on her that whatever the reason for their visit, West would be there too.
Seeing him at the ball had been like a dream. It felt so good to be near him, whether they were together or not. It also felt good to tell him that she knew he was The Ghost.
Until the announcement about the police force. And the vigilante. And the look on West’s face when he made the understandable assumption that she’d known about Alpha Division taking over the Glacier City police force.
Peter practically leapt out of the elevator, leaving Cordelia to scurry along in his wake.
The Worthington Enterprises board room spanned the width of the north end of the building. In stark contrast to the traditional decor in Peter’s sumptuous old building, the Worthington boardroom was sleek, almost deliberately cold. Stepping inside, Cordelia felt dwarfed by the height of the ceiling and the precipitous view over Glacier City from the floor to ceiling glass.
The huge conference table stretched toward the windows. Its satin-finished metal surface reminded Cordelia of a surgical table - as if any meeting might end with someone being butchered on it, as the others looked on.
Not one inch of the room provided warmth or succor. Even the lighting took on a blue tone.
It reminded Cordelia of West, the the way he was when she’d first met him. Alternately absent, and uncompromising. Filled with, and then devoid of, purpose.
She scanned the room for him, hoping to comfort herself with the new warmth in his eyes. Even if he were angry or disappointed with her, it would be better than this.
But he wasn’t there.
And as she glanced around, she was surprised to see some new board members.
Including Major Andrews, who sat near the head of the table, looking very comfortable.
Wow.
Prince Isaam was there as well. Tarek had been on the board for some time, of course, as one of the company’s biggest investors, but he rarely attended meetings personally, unless something really big was going on.
And West was still not here.
Something wasn’t right.
Peter shook hands with Debra Fields, one of the long-time board members. Then he sat down next to Major Andrews.
Since when was Peter Watson on the board of Worthington Enterprises?
And then the pieces began to click together. Peter’s off-the-books meetings. His visit with Tarek, his appointment here earlier in the week, another meeting that wasn’t with West.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the board, thank you all for attending today’s emergency meeting. In light of the reason we are all here, we will postpone minutes from our last meeting until the next scheduled board conference,” Peter announced.
The murmurs in the room stopped. Cordelia stood in the corner, forgotten.
“Our CEO, Westley Worthington, has been inattentive of late, even more so than in years past. He lacks the basic interest in the company even to attend today’s emergency meeting. We are here today to take a vote of no confidence on his positio
n as CEO,” Peter continued.
“All in favor of retaining our current CEO, please indicate your preference,” he said.
Not a single hand went up.
“All voting no confidence in our CEO, please indicate your preference,” he said.
All the hands went up. It was unanimous.
And just like that, all the Worthingtons’ own influence on the company they had built was gone.
“We will now take nominations for interim CEO, until a suitable replacement can be found,” Peter said. His face was solemn, but Cordelia could still see the sparks of satisfaction in his eyes.
“Peter Watson,” Andrews said gruffly.
“Watson,” another board member affirmed.
“Watson,” Prince Isaam said.
“Mr. Watson, with all due respect, you have a sterling reputation, but you have your own firm to run. Can you realistically devote the time and thought to this position that it deserves?” Debra Fields asked. She was looking around the table as if it were suddenly dawning on her that there must have been a plan in place that she hadn’t been made aware of.
Cordelia was senseless with fury that Peter had excluded the sole female board member from his plan. He was a pig.
West, for all his faults, would have been the first to consult with Fields, who had served since his father’s time and probably could have run the company herself.
“I’m so glad you asked that, Deb,” Peter replied with a saccharine smile. “Even though, as you pointed out, I do have other responsibilities, Worthington Enterprises is a priority to me and I think you’ll be pleased to see all that I can accomplish as CEO.”
“The role of interim CEO is to hold down the fort while we seek an appropriate replacement, not to substantively change the company,” Debra replied.
“All the more reason your fears are unfounded,” Peter snapped back. “Would anyone else like to speak?”
There was silence.
“Very well,” he replied. “Deb, why not take the vote for me? It would be a conflict for me to preside.”
Debra stood, her dark eyes flashing.
“In the interest of preserving an accurate record, each vote shall be recorded.”
Cordelia trembled as the votes came in and Fields recorded them faithfully on her iPad. Each voted for Peter. When it came around to Fields again, she paused.
“I withhold my vote,” she said in a clear voice, then recorded it on her iPad.
“In accordance with the board policy of Worthington Enterprises, Peter Watson is assigned the role of interim CEO until a suitable replacement can be found,” she announced.
Cordelia wanted to cry with admiration for the older woman and the bravery and professional demeanor she demonstrated. She must have been mad as hell on the inside.
“Thank you, Deb,” Peter said, standing immediately. “My first order of business is to give Major Andrews and his Alpha Division complete oversight of the Medical Prosthetics department to facilitate his new security force.”
And there it was.
Cordelia tried not to panic. Now she knew why she had been kept out of Peter’s dealings with Worthington. This had been his plan all along.
Was it all just to get back at West?
Was that the only reason he’d even hired Cordelia, because he knew it would hurt his old friend?
Thank god he didn’t know West was The Ghost. Although with unhindered access to Med Pros, it was only a matter of time.
A murmuring spread around the table. Longtime board member, Les Warren stood to shake Andrews’s hand. They really were eating up his “helping the wounded veterans” act. But Cordelia knew better.
“Our last CEO was content to keep all that technology locked away for himself,” Peter announced, “instead of using it to give others a new lease on life and benefit Glacier City. I’m proud to say that from here on out, Worthington Enterprises will be taking on a more generous and responsible role in our city’s future.”
Peter glanced around the room, then seated himself with a smug smile.
West was not going to take this well.
25
Dalton leaned back against the cool imitation leather of the booth.
The diner was just the way he liked it today - busy enough that the chatter made a tapestry of reassuring noise, but not so busy that the waitress wouldn’t keep his coffee cup full. And the air conditioning provided a welcome break from the mid-morning heat.
He’d been doing some digging on Cordelia’s little sister. Traffic cam footage, courtesy of a buddy in the GCPD, showed her getting off at the last stop of the 158 bus. The one near the old zoo.
That was all he needed to see.
Jess and West had been working as a team. How much had West told her about what was going on at the zoo with Sterling and Project Cerberus?
Had she gone to Sterling looking for answers?
That was a very dangerous idea. Dalton knew how it had worked out for him. He could only imagine what could happen to Jess there.
Finding Jess was the only reason he could imagine meeting with Sterling on purpose. He was still reeling at the idea that he was about to see her. He’d picked about the most public place he could think of.
He slipped his phone out of his pocket to text Cordelia.
I’m following up on some leads. Everything is under control and it looks like we’ll have this sorted out soon.
The bell on the door jingled and he looked up. An elderly couple. Still no sign of Sterling.
“Hey hon, I’ve got your French toast!” His favorite waitress smiled down at him. “Cheat day, huh?”
“I didn’t know you were here, Cheryl,” he said, winking and causing her to blush a little.
“I just got in, but Annie said I could take her tables. Can I do anything else for you?” she asked hopefully.
“Nope, this looks great,” he assured her.
She headed off and he looked down at his meal.
The big stack of French toast with whipped cream, fruit and powdered sugar looked almost too good to be real. Cheat days were the best. His genetic enhancements revved up his metabolism to the point where he could eat pretty much anything he wanted. But his own self discipline kept him from doing that more than once a week.
He ate slowly, watching the other diners for company. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, even the couple at the end of the counter. The ones assigned to watch him.
They were clearly from Project Cerberus. He’d smelled them as soon as he walked in. They wore civilian clothes, but there was no mistaking them. The girl even had smudges on her jeans of the telltale pollen from the white chicory flowers that only grew at the zoo.
Sterling must have sent them to scout ahead. They were clearly enjoying the time away from the compound, though. Eating good food, drinking coffee, and enjoying each other’s company.
Every once in a while, the girl would put her hand on the man’s arm and laugh. Dalton watched as the man tenderly tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. They were adorable, and good for them. There was precious little pleasure in life with Cerberus. They might as well enjoy each other while they could.
He was hit with a flash of his dark life in the program and the sweet moments of stolen joy he had found with Sterling in his arms.
The bell on the door tinkled again, and he looked up to see her, silhouetted in sunlight.
She was dressed in civilian clothes as well, with her hair down, but he would recognize her by the way she carried herself, no matter what she wore.
She spotted him and approached. She was wearing jeans and a white scoop neck t-shirt. They weren’t fancy clothes, but she looked somehow elegant.
It had been a long time since he had seen her wearing anything but her uniform.
Or nothing at all.
As he sat, hypnotized by her, she smiled softly at him.
He was suddenly struck by the normalcy of it. They could be any couple, meeting for a late breakfast. Talki
ng about grocery shopping, or picking the kids up from soccer, or whatever normal couples talked about.
Could Dalton ever have that?
Would he even be happy with it?
Not today.
Sterling slid into the seat across from him.
“I was surprised to hear from you,” she said.
“I was starting to wonder if you were going to show. Even after you got the report that the place was clear,” he replied, nodding at the Cerberus soldiers at the counter.
Sterling let out a small sigh.
“Jessica Cross,” Dalton said, getting down to business before he could get bogged down by her soft sounds.
“Pardon me?” she asked.
“She’s a friend of mine. Cute redheaded kid. Gets around in a wheelchair,” Dalton said.
“What about her?”
“I have reason to believe she was in your neck of the woods last night. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her, would you?” he asked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sterling said, eyes wide.
Her pulse was steady, but Sterling had always been a good liar.
“That’s good,” he said. “Because if I found out you knew anything about that little girl, anything at all, and you were less than forthcoming about it…”
Dalton took a large fork full of French toast, swirled it in some syrup, and then slid it into his mouth, chewing carefully. He took a sip of coffee to wash it down, and then met her gaze.
“I would burn your little operation to the ground, and then salt the earth, to make sure nothing would ever grow there again,” he told her grimly.
The beast surged in his chest, just below the surface, begging to be let out. Dalton couldn’t be sure if it was clamoring for a fight, or urging him to claim her, right here on the table.
