The Proposal

by R. R. Banks

  I'd be lying to myself – and maybe I have been this whole time – if I said I didn't feel some connection with him. If I didn't feel a compelling, almost overwhelming at times, attraction to Liam. He is somehow able to get me to step outside of my comfort zone in ways nobody has before. And although it's scary as hell, I'm finding that I like it. That something inside of me even craves it.

  “I'd like that, Liam,” I say. “I'd like it if we left the door open.”

  His smile is soft and warm. “Good,” he says gently. “I'm glad we're both on the same page about that.”

  “Yeah,” I reply. “Me too.”

  “So,” he says, leaning back in his seat again. “What did you want to talk to me about earlier?”

  I look at him blankly for a moment, not entirely sure what he's talking about. With everything that just happened between us, I'm still feeling a little scatterbrained. But then, it starts coming back to me.

  “Right,” I say. “Yeah. That.”

  “That?”

  I nod. “So, I was grabbing a bite at the Cuppa yesterday and happened to overhear Mayor Goodrich and one of the developers talking.”

  “Happened to overhear?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at me.

  “Yeah, fine,” I say. “I was eavesdropping.”

  Liam laughs and shakes his head at me. “Go on.”

  “Anyways,” I say. “Honestly, I don't know if it means anything or not.”

  “Know if what means anything or not?”

  I suddenly find myself flustered and tongue-tied. I could be blowing things all out of proportion and what I heard may not be what I think. I mean, it sounds ominous and all, but maybe I misunderstood something. Just because something sounds dark and foreboding doesn't mean it actually is. Maybe what they talked about was completely benign and I'm just overreacting.

  It wouldn't be the first time that happened.

  “Okay, so, I could be jumping to conclusions here,” I say. “I mean, I didn't actually hear anything specific, but –”

  He chuckles and holds up his hands. “Okay, from here on out, I’ll assume that you've issued all of your disclaimers and I've signed off on them all,” he says. “Just spit it out.”

  The knot in my stomach constricts almost painfully and I feel my pulse speeding up. So many questions and so few answers. What had I heard at the coffee shop? I mean, really? What did I hear? Nothing substantive, but at the same time, something that sounded menacing.

  I hesitate to say anything only because I don't want to come off sounding like a fool. Like some paranoid, tin-foil hat wearing, conspiracy freak. As much as I hate to admit it, what Liam thinks of me matters. And as I sit there looking at him, with the knowledge of this realization in mind, I realize that this doesn’t make what I’m about to say any less true.

  Letting out a long breath, I decide that he should hear what I have to say. He can decide what to do – or not do – with the information. If it turns out to be nothing, all the better. But, if it's something as sinister as it sounded to me, then he needs to have a heads-up about it.

  “Well, like I said Mayor Goodrich and that developer were talking,” I say. “And I heard them discussing you.”

  “Me?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I guess they're both worried that you're going to start taking over contracts or something,” I say. “They're really concerned about it.”

  “Huh,” he says and leans back in his seat. “Interesting.”

  “You're not – are you?” I ask. “Going to be developing the town like they are?”

  It seems like he hesitates for a moment, but then he quickly shakes his head. “No, I'm not doing what they're doing, Paige,” he says. “I've already told you that.”

  “I know,” she says. “But, they were really worried about it.”

  He shrugs. “My company has a far reach,” he says. “We're the eight-hundred-pound gorilla and all of these other development companies are trying to catch up with us. It's not surprising that they're concerned to know I'm in Port Safira.”

  “It's what the developer guy said that really worries me,” I say. “He said that he was taking care of you and that he has the situation with you under control.”

  A shadow of concern crosses Liam's face but dissipates quickly. He runs a hand through his hair and looks out the window, lost in thought.

  “Do you know what he means by that?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Not the first clue,” he replies. “I will admit, it sounds kind of ominous.”

  “It sounds really ominous,” I say. “Especially given the fact that you were attacked not all that long ago.”

  “That was Brittany,” he says, waving me off. “Totally unrelated.”

  “Is it?”

  He looks at me for a long moment and I see his eyes widen slightly. He cocks his head and I see something in his eyes – something I can't quite put my finger on.

  “This developer,” he says. “The one with the mayor. What's his name?”

  “Moore,” I say. “Damon Moore. And he's a real asshole.”

  A shadow of anger ripples across his face again, but he manages to suppress it once more. But, I can see the tension in his body and the tightness in his jaw. Something I had said struck a chord with him and set off alarm bells in his head.

  “Damon Moore, huh?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Interesting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Liam

  I get off the helicopter and make my way to the elevator. Swiping my keycard, I step in when the doors slide open, pushing the button that will take me downwards. Rather than go to the floors that ADE occupies though, I take the elevator all the way to the ground floor.

  I'm not in town for work today. I had to schedule a quick meeting with Adam.

  I get off the elevator and head through the lobby of the building, stepping out onto the street. A driver is there waiting for me at the curb, so I cross the sidewalk and climb into the car. The driver shuts the door behind me and walks around, sliding behind the wheel.

  “Where to, Mr. Anderson?” he asks.

  I give the driver the address and lean back in my seat. As the car pulls off, I pull out my phone and check my emails. Not seeing anything of any particular importance, I scan the news. Nothing grabs my attention, so I put my phone back in my pocket and drum my fingers on my thigh impatiently.

  I probably could have done this with a phone call, but I thought a face-to-face meeting would be better. Call me paranoid, but if Brittany is looking to have me killed, she could very well have people tapping my phones and snooping through my computers remotely. Better not to chance it and tip them off that I'm on to them. Plus, being unpredictable in my movements and not having a set public schedule will make it harder for them.

  If they don't know I'm in Seattle, they likely aren't going to be able to set anything up ahead of time. I'd used a prepaid phone to contact Adam, asking him where he was going to be at a specific time today and told him I'd meet him there. After that, I'd destroyed the phone.

  Yeah. I'm getting paranoid.

  But, at least I can take solace in knowing my paranoia isn't without cause. I mean, Brittany did try to have me killed once already. And until the change of beneficiary paperwork is complete, I'm not going to take any unnecessary chances.

  The car pulls into a parking lot and the driver shuts the engine off.

  “We're here, Mr. Anderson,” he says as he climbs out of the car.

  A moment later the door is opened, and I step out. The day is sunny, yet balmy, and a cool wind is blowing in off the Sound, making it seem much cooler than it actually is.

  “Thank you, David,” I say. “I shouldn't be very long. Please stay with the car.”

  “I'll be here waiting.”

  I walk across the lot and enter the outdoor mall. It's teeming with people, locals and tourists alike. I make my way through the crowd, and find Adam sitting at a table near an outdoor cafe. He's we
aring a ball cap pulled low and sunglasses and is sitting in his seat casually with a cup of coffee and a book at hand. He's obviously working a case and gives me a nod as I approach his table.

  “Sorry if I'm blowing your cover,” I say as I take a seat across from him.

  “Actually, you're improving it.”

  I give him a grin. “Yeah? How so?”

  “Person's less likely to look at me twice if I'm sitting here having a conversation with somebody,” he says. “When I'm sitting here with a book, all by myself, it can sometimes get a little dicey. If the person I'm tailing has half a brain anyway.”

  “And today's target?” I ask. “Half a brain or no?”

  “Oh, he's smart,” he says. “He's also arrogant as hell. Probably doesn't even realize I'm here because he's too busy preening for the chicks he's with.”

  “What's the case?” I ask. “If I'm allowed to ask.”

  “Workman's comp,” he says. “He claimed to have suffered a severe back injury on the job and can't work.”

  “And?” I ask.

  “Blue jacket with black wool cap, five o'clock. He's the guy with a couple of blondes,” he says. “Be subtle, but take a look and you tell me how bad this clown's back is.”

  I lean back in my seat and take a subtle look back. I see the guy Adam's talking about. He's standing at a table in front of a pair of busty blondes, dancing. Dancing pretty well and moving about like a man free of back pain as far as I can tell. I've personally never seen somebody with crippling back pain able to move about as freely as this guy.

  “Yeah, I'd say you've got a pretty open and shut case,” I laugh and shake my head. “You got a camera on you?”

  Adam points to a decorative pin on his hat. “High definition,” he says.

  “You have the coolest toys.”

  “That I do.”

  I hear the blondes squealing with delight and I take another quick look back to see the guy Adam's watching doing standing back springs. I just shake my head.

  “What an idiot,” I say. “If you're going to try to take advantage of your company, at least be smart about it.”

  “If these morons were smart about it,” Adam says. “I'd be out of a job.”

  “Good point.”

  He takes a drink of his coffee and chuckles. “So, what's the emergency?” he asks. “I mean, I'm assuming that the only thing that can pry you out of your little peninsula hideaway and away from the lovely Paige Samuels is an emergency.”

  I stare at him slack-jawed for a moment as I rack my brain. I know I never mentioned Paige's last name to him.

  “I'm very good at what I do,” Adam says as if that explains everything, a mischievous grin on his face.

  “How in the world could you have known her last name?”

  “It wasn't hard, really,” he replies. “Do you know how many bookstore owners live in Port Safira who go by the name of Paige?”

  I chuckle and rub the stubble on my chin. “I'm going to go with one.”

  “You would be correct,” he says.

  “So, you ran a background check on her, did you?”

  “Nothing too deep or invasive,” he replies. “I just wanted a little information. I wanted to make sure there was nothing about her that sent up red flags for me. After what Brittany put you through –”

  “Yeah, I could have used you back then,” I chuckle.

  “Yeah, you could have.”

  “So?” I ask. “Did you find anything red-flag worthy?”

  He shakes his head. “Actually, I did not,” he says. “As far as I can tell, she's squeaky clean. From what I've been able to gather, she seems like a nice girl. I think you chose well with this one.”

  I laugh. “I appreciate you looking out for me,” I say. “But, I don't know where things between us are headed. Or, to be honest, if they're going anywhere at all.”

  “Her choice or yours?”

  I shrug. “Mutual. I think,” I say. “I don't know that either of us is in a place right now where we would be good together. We probably shouldn't even be considering a relationship right now. Both of us are pretty damaged. Or at least, I am.”

  Adam looks at me evenly. “I see the way you light up whenever her name is mentioned,” he says. “Personally, I think it's worth exploring. You might be surprised at how quickly having a good woman in your life can undo the damage someone else caused. At how she can help you heal.”

  I nod. Intellectually, I understand what he's saying, and I know that he's got a point. But, I don't know that I'm ready. Like I told her, I don't want to close the door on the possibility of us. I just don't know when I'll be ready to walk through it again.

  “Anyway,” Adam says. “Not trying to pressure you into something or anything like that. Obviously, you have to be ready. I'm just letting you know that you probably don't have anything to worry about with Paige. As near as I can tell, she seems to be exactly what she says she is.”

  “Thanks, Adam,” I say. “I appreciate that.”

  “You got it,” he replies. “So, what did you want to see me about?”

  “Well, I think we've found our point A,” I say.

  He arches an eyebrow at me. “Oh yeah?”

  “I think so,” I say. “The developer leading the charge in Port Safira is none other than –”

  “Damon Moore,” Adam finishes my sentence.

  I chuckle. “Amazing. Are you psychic?”

  “Nope,” I said. “Just very good at my job.”

  “Are you looking into him for something?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” he says. “Given his track record, there are some folks concerned about buildings suddenly collapsing. I've been asked to look into a few things on that front.”

  I nod. “That's a very legitimate concern.”

  “So, I'm gathering,” he replies. “What makes you think he's point A?”

  “He was in Grady's that night,” I say. “I don't know why it didn't occur to me earlier. But he was there that night too. I had words with him just before Brittany showed up.”

  Adam adjusts his ball cap and lets out a long breath. “Interesting. Pretty coincidental timing, I'd say.”

  “I'm an idiot for not thinking about it before, but yeah,” I say. “It seems like a pretty big coincidence.”

  “Big enough to choke on,” he replies. “So, Moore either finds or follows you to the bar – point A. He calls Brittany – point B. Brittany calls Waltham – point C.”

  “And we have our connection.”

  “So, it would seem,” he says. “But tell me, just to play Devil's Advocate here, why would Moore want you dead?”

  “Other than the fact that he's my bitch? Business-wise, that is?” I ask. “ADE blows his company out of the water on every front.”

  “But, what does he get out of it?” Adam asks. “I mean, let's say Brittany manages to take you out. It's not like he will benefit. One of your brothers will take over your territory and ADE goes on without missing a beat.”

  “Oh, gee thanks,” I say and chuckle. “I didn't realize I'm that expendable.”

  Adam laughs. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do,” I say. “And you're not wrong. One of my brothers would step in and he wouldn't gain any ground on ADE. So, I don't quite know what his play here is. I don't see how he benefits.”

  “Unless...”

  Adam's voice trails off as he looks off into the distance, and I can see the wheels turning in his mind. Suddenly, a thought bursts through my mind like a flashing neon sign. Something that I should have seen earlier – and is no doubt exactly what Adam is thinking.

  “Unless she cut a deal with Damon to take my company and then sell it to him,” I say.

  “That's kind of where I was going in my thinking,” he says, “If something happens to you, Brittany still stands to inherit everything. Right?”

  “Yeah, until all the paperwork has been cleared with the lawyers,” I say. “I mean, I'm sure there would be a court
battle between her and my brothers, but ultimately, yeah she'd probably win. She'd get it all.”

  “If she gets it all,” he says, “that would give her plenty of motive to work with a shady character like Damon. And Damon, trying to avoid being your bitch any longer, has plenty of motive to want to make this happen.”

  I lean back in my seat and let out a long breath. “Son of a bitch,” I say. “Tens of millions of dollars’ worth of motive.”

  We sit in silence for a moment, absorbing it all. I'm looking at it from every angle that I can think of, trying to decide whether or not I'm jumping to massive conclusions, or whether this is actually plausible. Brittany isn't the sharpest tool in the shed to begin with and I doubt she'd have the smarts to engineer something like this on her own. Which means that she'd need somebody as shady as Damon to make this plan work.

  Which means that yeah, it's definitely plausible.

  “It's kind of an elegant plan if you think about it,” Adam laughs.

  I give him a long look. “Elegant?”

  He shrugs. “I'm just saying that maybe they're not as stupid as I thought.”

  As much as I hate to admit it, Adam’s not wrong. It's actually a smart plan. Of course, I give Brittany and her boyfriend no credit. I know that the brain behind such a devious idea had to have been Damon. If there's something this manipulative or evil in the works, it had to have come straight from his brain.

  Brittany and Waltham have their roles to play, undoubtedly, but Damon is the one behind the curtain on this. I just know it. I can feel it in my damn bones.

  “The first thing we need to do is prove that there is a connection between Brittany, Waltham, and Damon,” Adam says. “We need to connect all of these points in order to have something tangible.”

  “Can you look into it for me?”

  Adam nods. “I'm on it,” he says. “It'll be more interesting than following idiots like this around.”

  I turn and look to find the guy Adam's been tailing doing handstands in front of the women, who continue to giggle and clap for him. I just shake my head and turn back to Adam.