by Peggy Jaeger
The slow, perceptive grin that spread across his face made her stomach muscles giddy-up.
“I bet you give great holiday bonuses,” he said, rocking back on his heels.
Because it was true, she smiled. “My office is in here.” She pushed through another set of doors and preceded him in.
While he took in the surroundings, Kandy wondered if he saw the room the way she did. A corner office, it had full-length, floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides and an unobstructed view of Battery Park and the Statue of Liberty.
The interior design was her own and she’d gone for comfort and ease in the furnishings. Three couches circled one another in the center of the room, and in the middle sat an impressive glass table, currently covered with files, paper, magazines, and a few fabric swatches. A grandfather clock stood, unwound, against the far wall, the hour hand stuck at nine, the minute hand at twelve.
A large, cherrywood desk faced the windows, not the inner room, complete with two computers and a laptop. Two printers were on a pullout stand next to the desk.
“Interesting.” Josh gazed around the room. “I assume the reason your desk faces this way is for the great view?”
“Why waste it by having my back to it?”
“What’s up with the clock?”
She glanced over at it. “That’s the exact time my first book went on sale.”
“So what? Time stopped for you then?”
“No. The way I see it, my life started precisely at that moment.”
His eyebrows rose. “Says a lot about what you expect and want out of life.”
“Don’t read too much into it,” she said, unaccustomed embarrassment washing through her. Without even knowing her he’d hit her personality right on the head. “The clock also has sentimental value. It was Grandma’s.” Kandy moved to the couches. “Come on, have a seat. Let’s talk specifics.”
Josh sat opposite her and leaned back into the couch, crossing one long leg over the other.
“I’m going to say this once because I feel we should get it out of the way,” she started. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard, and I don’t think anything that’s happened recently can’t be explained away. I find this whole situation of having someone follow every move I make unnerving. I’m not used to working this way. I don’t want to have to stop every five minutes to explain where I’m going or who I’m going to be meeting with. I just go. I have too much to do in a day to worry about someone keeping up with me.”
When he remained silent, she continued. “I’m willing to go along with the entire scheme until you prove there’s really no reason for it, which I think you’ll discover pretty quickly. But I won’t be hampered in any way going about my day. Understand?”
He nodded again. “As I told you before, I’m not going to ask you to change anything you normally do. My presence is merely to try and prevent anything else from happening. With that in mind, though, I will need to know the particulars of your everyday routine. Where you’re going, who you’re meeting with, and how you’re getting there. I’ll need to know about any phone calls, or any unusual mail. I’ll need to know about your personal life, but I won’t interfere in it. Your cousin seems to believe you’re in some kind of danger. It’s my job to figure out if her suspicions are warranted. I’ll need you to cooperate, but I promise, I won’t intrude on your life in any way if I can possibly prevent it.”
She stared at him for a moment, taking in his words. “What do you mean by ‘personal life’?”
With an easygoing swipe of his hand through the air, he clarified. “Boyfriends, dinner dates, social engagements. I’ll need to know who you’re seeing so they can be checked out.”
“You mean investigate them?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous! It’s a terrible invasion of privacy.”
“It’s necessary.”
After a few moments, Kandy blew out a large breath and crossed her arms again over her chest. “Well, it’s moot anyway, because I’m not seeing anyone.”
“You were until recently.”
One eyebrow arched high on her forehead. “Stacy told you about Evan?”
“Just you were seeing someone and it ended. She didn’t give me any particulars. She said you would.”
“Fat chance,” she muttered. “It’s over. End of story.”
“Just for a second, consider this.” He eased forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “These strange things started happening after you broke up with the guy, didn’t they?”
“I suppose,” she said, considering.
“There could be a connection.”
“Doubtful,” she said. “Evan’s severely lacking in brains. Trust me on this.”
“I’m still going to check him out.”
“Okay, fine. Do it if you have to. I don’t care about him anyway.” She rose and walked to the windows. The sun was still bright, an effect of the long summer day.
“Have you received any phone calls, e-mails, or texts that seemed strange or off?”
“You’ll have to ask Tricia Walters about the social media stuff. She’s in charge of all of that. I simply don’t have the time to tweet and troll around on Facebook.”
“Okay. Phone calls, then? Any hang-ups? Someone there but not talking? Anything like that?”
She sighed and rubbed her eyelids with the pads of her fingers.
“Kandy?”
She hadn’t realized he’d moved until his image reflected in the glass window. The heat on her neck from his stare was warm and intense.
“About a week ago,” she said after a few seconds. “It started about a week ago.”
He touched her shoulders and rotated her around to face him. “Tell me.”
For a moment she couldn’t breathe. His eyes, she discovered, weren’t solid green, but dotted with lighter flecks of gold and amber.
She licked her lips and said, “I was working here. Pretty late, like ten-ish. I think it was last Monday. The phone rang.”
“Which phone?”
“The one on my desk. I picked it up, said hello, but no one answered. I thought it was a telemarketer, you know? When you pick up there’s silence until the computer alerts the caller there’s someone on the line, and then they connect? But I held on for about ten seconds. Nothing. Just silence. I could hear...something...in the background. After saying hello about ten times, I hung up.”
“Was it the only call?”
“That night. The next one came the following morning, when I was getting ready to leave.”
“At home?”
Her black curls bounced when she nodded. “My condo, here in the city.”
“Landline or cell?”
“Land,” she said. “It was about five thirty. I’d just finished my workout, was about to take a shower. The phone rang. At that hour you always think it’s bad news. Someone died or something.”
He nodded. “Was anyone on the other end?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who it was?” he prompted.
She shook her head. “The person screamed one word and then hung up.” Remembering the sound and her shock at the word, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
“What word?”
She looked up into his eyes, wondering what he would think when she told him. “Whore.”
Kandy moved from the window to a small refrigerator. She took out a bottle of water, drank, and then recapped it.
“Anything else?” he asked, watching her, his expression flat and unreadable.
Somehow, it felt better telling him than keeping it to herself. “Yesterday. I was just leaving the studio. I did a quick stop back here before meeting with my agent uptown.”
“And?”
She sighed. Taking the headband off, she massaged her temples, then scraped her hands through the sides of her hair. “My phone message light was blinking. When I accessed the messages there were two. One
was from my sister Abby reminding me about another sister’s birthday party this weekend.”
When she didn’t continue, he moved toward her. “And the other?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to the window. “It was a woman, I think. The voice was hushed, like someone trying to disguise it. She whispered ‘All whores go to hell when they die. You will, too.’”
“You didn’t save the message, did you?”
Kandy turned, walked back to her desk, and pressed two buttons on the phone. After a signal beep, the message replayed.
It had been hard to listen to yesterday when she was alone. It was more embarrassing than difficult to have Josh listen to it now.
“I agree with you,” he told her when it ended. “It does sound like a woman.”
“Thought I’d find you guys here.” Stacy came into the office, interrupting them, a stack of papers in her hand.
“We were just finishing up.” Kandy planted a quick smile on her face, not wanting her cousin to know what they’d been discussing for the past several minutes.
“I’ve got the list you asked for.” Stacy handed Josh a stack of papers.
“What list?” Kandy asked.
“Just compiling info,” he told her calmly. “Background stuff.”
Because she was suddenly tired, she didn’t pursue it.
“Okay, well, if that’s everything, I need to get home and change. The party is in less than two hours.”
“Party?” Josh asked.
It was Stacy who answered. “At the Waldorf. To promote the new cookbook. Snazzy event sponsored by the publisher. Black tie.”
“You mean tuxedo?”
Kandy smiled genuinely for the first time since coming into the office. He sounded alarmed—a thought that secretly charmed her. “Why? Don’t own one?”
The half grin, half smirk he threw her made her toes curl.
“Oh, I own one. Just didn’t know I’d be putting it on tonight. I’ll have to swing by my place to get it.”
“Feel free,” Kandy said. She grabbed her purse and slung it across her shoulder. “We’ll go over the next few days’ scheduling tomorrow, Stace.”
“Okay. See you in a few.”
She left the office, Kandy close on her heels.
“Hold on a sec,” Josh said, laying a restraining hand on her arm. “You don’t seem to get this whole layout yet.”
“What are you talking about?”
His strong hand against her skin was equal parts annoying and fascinating. To have both emotions warring inside her served only to aggravate her more.
“I go where you go,” he told her in a tone she didn’t think allowed for discussion.
“I get that.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like it, but I get it.”
“The opposite holds, too. I’ve gotta stop by my place for a few things. You’re coming with me.”
“But I need to get home and—”
She watched his mouth instantly harden into a thin, tight line. “No arguments,” he said.
Chapter Three
After leaving the office, they’d climbed into Kandy’s waiting limo and stopped for a few minutes at Josh’s apartment. Kandy tapped her feet in vexation as she waited in the foyer while Josh tossed his tuxedo and a few other sundries into an overnight bag.
It was a quick trip uptown to her Park Avenue condo despite the end of rush-hour traffic.
He wasn’t surprised when the elevator stopped at the top floor. Just as in her office, the view from her living room was spectacular.
“You can put your things in the guest room,” she told him, heading off to her own space.
When she emerged an hour later, his mouth went dry as dust despite the sparkling water he’d been drinking.
“Ready?” she asked, adjusting a two-carat diamond stud in one ear.
He gulped the last of his water and nodded.
She looked spectacular garbed in a super-short black, sleeveless sequined dress with four-inch dragon-lady killer heels. Her legs went on forever, all the way up to heaven, and back and made his mouth dry again just looking at them.
During the limo ride to the Waldorf, she filled him in on the guest list.
“Stacy will be there, so you’ll see one familiar face. The Masons may or may not show. Cort wasn’t sure his wife was up to it.”
“Something wrong with her?”
Kandy sighed and shrugged. She didn’t say any more on the matter, so he didn’t push, but made a mental note to research the Masons further.
“You’ll meet my agent, Reva Lowenstein. She’s a real trip. Most of my family will be there, too.”
“Stacy mentioned some of them work for you.”
She nodded, the jewels in her earlobes twinkling in the dim light of the limo. “In one capacity or another.”
“No problems with nepotism?”
A corner of her mouth quirked upward. “None. They wouldn’t be working for me if they weren’t good at what they do. My sister Gemma, for instance, is an amazing photographer. She does all the pictures for my books and my publicity shots. I don’t trust anyone else.”
“Who else?” he asked, needing to know as many of the players in her world as possible.
“Stacy’s mom, my aunt Lucy.” The smile dancing across her mouth turned wicked. “You’ll like her. Everyone does. She’s an unapologetic flirt and a fabulous stylist. The decor you see on set is her doing.”
Josh remembered the homey, chic studio kitchen “She knows her stuff.”
“A daytime Emmy for set design doesn’t lie.”
“Anyone else I should know about beforehand?”
“Not really. I’m sure they’ll all find you and introduce themselves.”
The wistfulness in her voice surprised him. “Why?”
When she turned, her expression could only be described as wry. Forehead slightly furrowed, one beautifully sculpted brow rising just a fraction, and the crooked way her mouth ambled into a laconic grin made his pulse pound.
She pierced him with a look that was at once challenging and worried. “You’ll be arriving with me, which will be enough to send them all into a frenzy wanting to know who you are.”
“What would you like me to tell them?”
“Leave it up in the air, I guess,” she replied with a shrug. “Stacy most likely told Reva about you, because she tells her everything connected with me.” She rolled her eyes. “So, unless they’ve talked to the others—which I doubt, since no one has called me—the rest of the family will be in the dark. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I agree,” he told her. “The less people who know why I’m following you around, the easier it’ll be to find out who’s bothering you. You’d be amazed at the things people tell me, especially when they don’t know what I do for a living.”
Kandy considered him from across the limo. “No. I don’t think I’d be amazed at all.”
“We’re here, Kandy,” the driver announced.
In the elevator she was quick to say, “Just try not to hover, okay? I want to enjoy this party and not be worried something is going to happen, which I will be if you’re all over me.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here, though? To prevent something from happening?”
“Just so we’re clear: don’t feel you have to cling to my side. Have a drink. Enjoy the food. Mingle. Got it?”
“Got it,” he said, swallowing a chuckle.
When they entered the ballroom, a smattering of applause quickly blossomed into a full rolling thunder that had Kandy beaming.
A cadaver-thin woman made her way through the crowd at a swift and determined pace. Snow-white hair cut into a fashionable, swinging bob ending just below her square chin, framing gray eyes so light they seemed ice blue from a distance. Her lips were embalmed in a striking scarlet offsetting the paleness of her translucent skin. She had an unlit e-cigarette in one hand, a half-filled mar
tini glass in the other.
When Josh moved to stand in front of her, Kandy sidestepped him and whispered, “Cool it. It’s Reva.”
“About time you showed.” The woman lifted up to kiss Kandy’s cheek.
“Had to make an entrance,” she said.
Reva’s slate-colored eyes widened and their calculating gleam turned hard and firm when she noticed Josh. “And you are?”
Josh put out his hand. The agent gripped her cigarette with her drink hand and extended the empty one toward him. He was surprised to feel the grip rival his own.
“Josh Keane, Ms. Lowenstein.”
“Stacy’s man.” Her nod was quick and perfunctory. “I want to talk to you. In private.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” Kandy said. “Don’t go grilling him.”
She turned to her client, a dazzling smile tripping across her scarlet lips. “But, babe, it’s what I do best. Now, come and mingle. People have been waiting.” She hooked an arm in Kandy’s and led her off.
“Reva’s a dynamo.”
When he turned he found Stacy at his side.
“I got that impression,” he told her. “She wants to talk to me. Privately.”
“I’m not surprised. She’s extremely protective of Kandy. She’ll want to know everything you find out. Did you get a chance to read those papers I gave you?”
He nodded. “When Kandy was getting ready I gave them a once-over. A pretty extensive list of people has her private phone numbers.”
Stacy sighed and took a sip of the drink in her hand. “She always wants to make sure anyone can get hold of her if they need to. Is it a problem?”
“It makes narrowing the field of possibilities a little tougher.”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
“Stacy, who is this handsome man and why haven’t you introduced me yet?”
They both turned. Josh’s eyes met the laughing blue ones of an attractive, middle-aged woman in a low-cut silk sheath matching the color of her eyes. That she was related to Kandy was evident. The height, the angle of the jaw, even the way her lips curved proved the genetic link.
“Mama,” Stacy whispered, “behave.”
