“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she said. “Anyway, I’ve almost wrapped things up here.”
“Does that mean you’re coming home soon?” The desperation in her friend’s voice made a lump lodge in her throat.
“Your wish is my command.”
“You don’t know how happy that makes me. I miss you so much.” She paused. “Are you okay? You sound upset.”
“I’m fine. I’m just worried about one of the other interns,” she said. It was the partial truth. Kylie didn’t need the burden of Wren’s relationship woes on her shoulders. “Sean has been roughing her up and I think he’s taken her paintings, too. He’s got this whole scam on rotation.”
“Shit. You figured that out, huh? I was too ashamed to admit that he convinced me to trust him. He was just so charming and nice, he said I had talent...”
“Kylie, you are not at fault for what happened to you. He took advantage of your trusting nature and he chose to abuse you. That is not on you.” She paced the office. “I wish you’d talked to me about it...but I understand why you didn’t.”
“He made me feel like no one would believe me. Did you know his dad is a judge? He said even if I decided to report him nothing would happen because his father had gotten him off before.”
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, shaking her head. She wasn’t going to tell Kylie of her plans to help rope Sean into confessing; Kylie would only try to talk her out of it. “How’s everything at home? Are you settling back in?”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m still really sore, but Debbie has been wonderful. She keeps visiting and bringing board games over to distract me. Last Saturday she skipped going out with her friends so we could have a movie night.”
Wren said a silent thank-you to her sister. “She’s got a big heart.”
“So do you, Wren. Though I would have preferred you to be more like Debs and play games with me instead of going off on a vigilante mission.”
“I don’t want anyone else to go through what you went through.”
“Me, neither.” Kylie sighed. “But maybe I’m selfish and I just want my best friend to be here with me. It’s much safer.”
“We’ll get him, Ky. I don’t give a shit if his father is a judge, we’re going to get proof of what he’s doing.” She swallowed. “He has your paintings, too, doesn’t he?”
There was a sniffle on the other end of the line. “I should have said something to you about that, but he said he’d make me pay if I told anyone. I didn’t even tell the therapist because I’m afraid he’ll find me.”
“He won’t find you, Ky. I’m coming home to look after you.”
“He said I owed him. That they were payment.” Her voice sounded far away.
“We’ll get them back, okay? I promise.”
Rhys might be right about her always doing things for other people, but that was just who she was. Since it was clear he didn’t understand that about her, it was probably best that she was heading back home.
* * *
A FEW DAYS later they were poised to make their final move on Sean Ainslie. Rhys had almost bitten his nails down to the quick. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be part of the team overseeing the surveillance of Wren’s entry to Ainslie Ave. But he’d talked Owen into allowing him to observe in case anything went wrong from a technical standpoint.
Owen knew it was a bullshit excuse, but he hadn’t argued. So long as Rhys didn’t intervene in any way, he was free to observe.
They’d decided not to involve the police at this stage because it was unclear how deep of an influence Sean’s father had. A corrupt judge would have many connections, and they didn’t want to risk someone tipping him off. They just had to hope that Sean was cocky and stupid enough not to suspect Wren was taping him.
If he was going to bet on the reliability of anyone being stupid, it would be Sean Ainslie.
“She’ll be okay, Rhys. I promise.” Quinn placed a reassuring hand on his arm as they watched the screens capturing the footage from the gallery. “She’s feisty. I appreciate that.”
“I don’t,” he muttered, pretending to check his emails on his phone to avoid Quinn’s raised brows.
“Bullshit, you love feisty women. How on earth would we be friends if you didn’t?”
“You’re my employee.”
She rolled her eyes. “Next time you need help with a firewall, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”
“I told her not to do this.” His stomach churned as the speakers wired to her mic crackled to life.
“Looks like she hasn’t taken that advice.”
He grunted. “It wasn’t advice.”
“What was it supposed to be? A command? I’m surprised she didn’t tell you to shove it.”
“I was looking out for her.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You’re trying to instruct her how to live her life. Those are two different things.”
“Are you saying I’m bossy?”
Quinn studiously tapped away at her laptop, making sure the recording function was set up for the Ainslie Ave cameras. “That would be putting it mildly.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“We’re not friends, remember? I don’t have to be nice to you.”
God, he was really not in the mood for bantering with Quinn today. “I’m going to fire you one of these days.”
She snorted. “I can see why she dumped your ass.”
His head snapped up. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
How had she figured out that he and Wren were together? Nothing connected him to her except the conversation he’d had with Logan, and he was pretty sure his boss wasn’t about to spread that information around.
“Logan said there were some complications in you working on this case. I get the impression you’re not supposed to be here today.”
He grunted in response.
“And I took the fact that you even knew her name to mean something was going on between you two.” When he raised a brow she continued, “Normally you only care about the numbers. It’s all stats and KPIs and closure rates. You never take an interest in the people side of things.”
“You make me sound like a dictator.”
“I get it, the numbers are an important part of your job. But there was mad tension in that meeting room when we were setting this whole thing up. Wasn’t difficult to put two and two together.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, turning away from Quinn’s sharp, analytical gaze. “Doesn’t matter now, anyway. As you said, she dumped my ass.”
“Because you were a prick.”
“That a fact or just an educated guess?” he said sarcastically.
“I’m gonna plead the Fifth on that one.” She tucked her feet up under her so she was perched on the chair like some kind of punk Buddha. “So, you got in trouble, huh?”
“Dammit, Quinn. Are you trying to piss me off?”
“No.” She held her hands up, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Not at all. I’m kind of impressed actually. I’ve never seen you break the rules. Well, except for that one time where you accidentally put recycling into the regular trash can.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously. You never push the boundaries. She’s got to be one hell of a woman to tempt you to the dark side of employee misconduct.”
Their argument was cut short when Owen called for a quick powwow over the speakers. He was near the gallery with Wren, making sure she was appropriately wired up. They had Jin, another senior security consultant, inside the gallery posing as a potential client in case things got nasty. Two more security consultants were positioned outside, ready to storm in if Jin or Wren needed backup.
But the layers of contingency didn’t put Rhys a
t ease. He felt sick to his stomach that she was going to be walking in there to face that son of a bitch. But no amount of logical reasoning had been able to talk Quinn and Owen out of this plan. The thing was, if it had been anyone else in her place, he wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.
Ainslie needed to be taken down and this was the best way to do it.
“Have you told her you care about her?” Quinn asked once Owen had stopped speaking.
“No,” he admitted. Why would he when it was clear she never had any intention of staying? Nothing he’d done had changed that...so why cut himself open in front of her?
“No?” Quinn raised a brow. “Why not?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“You’ve been miserable ever since she offered to do this. I know what that feels like, trust me.”
“Wren and I are not the same as you and your loverboy.”
“Maybe not. But you care about her and I haven’t seen you care about many people. I have to wonder why that is.”
“I made the right decision,” he said, ignoring her comment. “It was tough but—”
“Yeah, yeah. Tough but fair. I’m familiar with the motto.” She smiled and let the snarky expression drop. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But, from one friend to another, maybe think about what that motto means. Tough doesn’t necessarily mean you have to push people away.”
“I know that.”
But it was hard not to push people away, or at the very least keep them at a distance. It was easier not to get involved, not to risk anything. Still, Wren had managed to sneak past his barriers without him even noticing.
Pain wrenched in his chest. Why hadn’t he tried harder to stop her? She didn’t have the training for this. She was driven totally by her emotions and impulses, which meant she hadn’t considered the consequences.
If something happened to her today...
She could get hurt and she’d have no idea how he felt; she’d have no idea that he loved her.
He sat stock-still as the truth burned through him. He loved her. It wasn’t a shock; the feelings had been brewing for a while. But this was the first time he’d admitted to himself just how deep those feelings went.
What if he’d realized too late?
His gut twisted in response. Quinn was right; he’d tried to command Wren to live her life according to what he wanted. Instead of offering support like a decent person would do, he’d been a bossy asshole.
He made a promise then and there, as he watched Wren appear on the security-camera screen, that he would tell her he loved her when this was all over. No matter what, he would tell her.
16
WREN’S HANDS TREMBLED as she approached the gallery’s front door. For all the bravado she’d mustered up when she’d decided to volunteer, not much of it had stuck around for the grand finale. She forced herself to think of Kylie and Aimee, how scared they must have been when they realized they were being played. That the man they’d fallen for was nothing more than a thief and an abuser.
She had to be brave for them.
Part of her had hoped that Rhys would be here to support her. The other part of her had been terrified that he’d show up and all her resolve would melt away. Last night she’d lain awake, tossing and turning with nerves, her stomach tied up in knots. The reality that soon she’d be leaving New York had washed over her, and instead of making her feel relieved, it made her want to cry.
She shoved the thoughts aside as she reached for the gallery door. Slowly, she drew in a steadying breath, and pushed.
The little bell above the door tinkled as she stepped inside, her head held high. This was it. All she had to do was get Sean to confess his crimes. It shouldn’t be hard; he loved talking about himself. And now she had the leverage she needed to get him to confess the truth.
“Wren.” Lola blinked from behind the reception desk. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone home to your family?”
A family emergency, that’s what she’d told Lola to keep her in the dark. They couldn’t risk any hint of the operation leaking to Sean. Not after the head of Cobalt & Dane had been forced to go to Sean Ainslie personally to make sure they were still employed by the gallery. Without the contract, they couldn’t access the cameras.
“I need to speak with Sean,” Wren said, hoping to hell her tone didn’t reveal her nerves.
“He’s just about to meet with a buyer.” Lola nodded toward an attractive dark-haired man in a fitted black suit who was wandering around the gallery, looking at the paintings.
Wren recognized him as Jin, one of Owen and Quinn’s colleagues. He was her safety net. The guy who was going to make sure she got out in one piece if Ainslie lost his shit.
“It’s urgent,” Wren replied.
“Gee, you guys don’t make it easy for me,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you and Aimee both quit at the same damn time.”
Aimee had quit? That news sounded too good to be true.
Lola picked up the phone and dialed the extension for Sean’s office. Wren could hear his peevish tone even standing a foot away.
He won’t get to treat anyone else like shit for much longer...
When he strode into the gallery, he ignored Wren and walked straight over to Jin, hand outstretched. Then he motioned for Wren to follow him down the hall. Her heart leaped into her throat. Of course he wouldn’t want to have the conversation out in the open—but how would Jin keep an eye on her if he took her out back?
“What the fuck do you want?” he asked. “If you’ve come here for your shitty canvas, I’ve thrown it out. Probably for the best. I’m not sure you have any talent.”
“Then why did you hire me?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest carefully, so as not to obstruct the mic taped just inside of her blouse.
The tiny thing barely looked powerful enough to capture the voice of the person wearing it, but Owen had assured her that so long as she stood within a few feet of Sean it would record his voice, too.
“Because I liked looking at your ass,” Sean replied with a cocky grin. “Too bad you haven’t got anything of value from the waist up.”
“Oh, so it wasn’t to steal my paintings and pass them off as your own like you did with all the other girls who’ve worked here?”
Surprise streaked across his face but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, actually, I do. I know everything, Sean. I know that you hire young girls from small towns because they’re vulnerable and eager to please. I know that you steal their paintings and beat them up if they try to stop you. I know that you’re a thief and a liar and you deserve to be put in jail.”
His eyes darted around behind her. They were still in the hallway, but right at the back of the gallery. Jin wouldn’t be able to hear what they were saying, but Owen would be communicating with him via an earpiece. She just had to trust that they were good at their jobs.
“And how are you so sure of all of this, Wren? Sounds like a great story to me. Maybe you should have been a writer instead of a painter.”
“I’ve been in touch with your former employees. I spoke with Kylie and Marguerite. I’ve been speaking with Aimee.”
At the mention of Aimee’s name, a fire lit in his eyes and his mouth flattened into a thin line. “Bullshit.”
“They told me that you keep the paintings in your storage room and you cover up their signatures and replace them with your own.” Neither of them had said that directly, but it was an educated guess...one that was on the money if his thunderous expression was anything to go on. “Why do you do it? Is it because you have no talent of your own?”
His hand reached out so quickly she didn’t have the chance to back away, and he cau
ght her arm between his fingers. As he squeezed, pain shot through her.
“You’re playing with fire, Wren. I know you’re not smart, but let me spell it out for you.” He leaned in so close that his breath heated her skin. Her stomach pitched violently but she managed to hold herself together. “You have nothing on me, you will never have anything on me and even if you did, I’m untouchable.”
Wren felt a flutter of panic in her chest. Sean still hadn’t given her anything incriminating. She needed to push him harder, get him to confess.
“No one is untouchable,” she said. “It doesn’t matter if your father is a judge. He can’t save you from everything. How would he feel if he knew his son was an abusive bastard who preyed on young women? Don’t you think he’d be disappointed in you?”
His fingers bore down on her, making her skin burn.
“You think he doesn’t know?” Sean laughed. “I went to him after I messed Marguerite’s face up just in case that mouthy bitch decided to go to the cops. Dear old Dad had a word with her and she didn’t make a peep.”
“So your father threatened some poor girl just to help you cover up what a piece of shit you are? I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She tried to pull her arm away but he held tight. So tight that the blood supply to her hand was being cut off. “What did you do with her paintings? Because it’s not like you’ve made it big yet. Guess your plans aren’t working out too well.”
“I sold them,” he said with a sneer. “Made fuck all, too. Guess she wasn’t as talented as she thought.”
“Or maybe you just haven’t got a good eye. If you did, you would have been able to paint something decent yourself by now.”
“Hardly,” he snarled. “I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel with you worthless country girls. But I’ve found my golden ticket with Aimee.”
Wren tried to shove him, her fear and anger bubbling over. But she was half his size. “You leave her alone.”
“Maybe I’ll work her over extra good tonight, just for you.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “Please leave her alone.”
“She’s got what it takes, and I’m going to sell those paintings for all I can get.”
A Dangerously Sexy Secret Page 17
