by Jo Davis
By the time she went inside her apartment, Anna’s feet were killing her. In the foyer, she toed off her heels and gathered them up, then started for her bedroom as her mom did the same. Entering the room, she flipped on the light as Sterling howled for attention. She picked him up and loved on him some, scratching under his chin and behind his ears before setting him down again. She must’ve been more exhausted than she thought, because she had never tripped over the bedside rug before. But this time her foot caught the edge, and she couldn’t stop her fall.
Anna hit the floor with a thud, smacking her knee and elbow. “Shit. What a klutz.”
She was about to get up when she spotted something stuck to the side of the wooden bed frame. It was small and round, about the size of a pea. Lying on her stomach, she reached out and scraped at it with her fingernail.
With some prying, it came off in her hand, and she studied it with growing trepidation. The side that had been stuck to the bed was sticky, and the other . . . Jesus, it looked like a tiny microphone or transmitter. The impact of what she was holding in her hand hit, and she sucked in a breath.
It was a listening device. Her apartment had been bugged.
And there was only one person besides her mother who’d been inside lately—Gray. I even gave him a key!
Shaking, she conducted a search and found one in the bathroom, one in the living room under the coffee table, and one in the kitchen behind the coffeemaker. Those were all she found, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more.
Why would anyone do this? Who would think she had something to hide that they needed to know about? Was Gray responsible? She didn’t want to believe that.
Heartsick, she debated waking her mom, then decided against it. Doing so would just upset her and ruin a nice visit. Best to pretend she hadn’t found them, then contact someone—the police?—after her mother went home. After searching for a good place to stash the devices, she put them in a desk drawer and shut it. Nobody would run across them there, and she’d deal with them later.
What about Gray, though? It was getting late, but she decided to go over on the pretext of checking to see if he was feeling better. She’d talk to him, gauge his reaction. She didn’t know what to say, but she’d work that out later. She had to know if he had planted the bugs.
Unfortunately, Gray didn’t answer his door. She knocked again, and nothing. Had he lied to her about being sick? That certainly made him seem guilty.
But of what? Was he some kind of corporate spy? Her heart seized as she considered something awful—what if he worked for a competing restaurant and had been hired to sabotage her business? What if he was stealing Ethan’s recipes and selling them? To an outsider that might sound ridiculous, but high-end restaurants were a big investment. There were millions to be made and lost. She could be ruined by a rival getting a hold of their recipes.
With that thought, she realized there was one logical place he might be. Pulse racing, she phoned the lobby of her restaurant’s building and waited.
“MerTower Building, Joel speaking.”
Thank God her favorite security guard had answered. “Joel, this is Anna Claire.”
“Hey, Anna,” he greeted her cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”
“Do you remember the man who’s been walking out with me in the evenings? His name is Grayson James.”
“The big fellow with the light brown hair?” he asked. “Sure.”
“Can you tell me if you’ve seen him come in tonight?”
“Oh, sure. He got here about twenty minutes ago. Said he had some things to do for you tonight while you were visiting with your mother.”
Another lie.
“Is there a problem?” the guard asked, worried.
“No, no. I just need to speak to him, but I’ll come up there in person. No worries.”
“Must be a late night for a lot of your employees,” the guard mused.
She frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“There’s been a couple of other workers come in tonight. One of them is called Keene, but I don’t recall the other one’s name.”
“That’s odd,” she said slowly.
“Is there a problem? Should I call the police?”
“No, that’s okay. I’m sure they have a good reason for being there.” Though she couldn’t think what. “Thank you so much, Joel.”
“My pleasure. See you soon.”
This time, Anna didn’t go on foot. She hailed a cab and was at the building in record time. As she jogged into the lobby, Joel barely had time to wave before she was stepping into the elevator.
All the way up, her mind whirled with scenarios of what Gray could be up to. It was just after midnight. The restaurant was closed now, and all the employees would have gone home. If he was stealing from her, she was going to kick his ass from here to Times Square. She’d call the police and have him thrown in jail. She wasn’t worried about facing him, either. If she had trouble, she’d call downstairs and alert Joel.
At the top floor, she stepped out and into the restaurant’s lobby. Flipping on the lights, she walked quietly through the main dining room, then through the kitchen doors and down the adjacent hallway to her office.
The light was on, and the door was almost shut. Rustling came from inside, and her pulse pounded. When she peered through the slit in the door, she swore she felt her heart break in half.
Gray was there. Her laptop was out on the desk, open and running. Which meant he’d broken into her cabinet to get it out. There was a flash drive beside the machine that she knew wasn’t hers—wrong color. The bastard was downloading her files? Why?
Her gaze went to the file cabinet where he stood, rifling through the one containing the employee records. Names, addresses, social security numbers. All sorts of sensitive information that an identity thief would have a field day with. Anger replaced her nerves, and she pushed open the door without giving her safety a thought.
When his gaze swung to where she stood, the look on his face was priceless. He stared at her, unmoving, file in hand.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” he said quietly.
“You have the gall,” she hissed, “to stand there going through my things and say that to me? So tell me what the fuck you’re doing. And make it good, before I call the cops.”
Setting the file he was holding on top of the desk, he faced her squarely. It took him several moments to speak, and the words were rough as sandpaper. “Anna, I’m so sorry. This really isn’t what it looks like, and before I tell you what’s going on, I want you to know I never thought you were guilty of anything.”
She glared at him. “I’m trying to make sense out of that, and nothing is coming to mind.”
“Good. I’m glad, because that means you’re not a part of what’s going on,” he said earnestly. “Everything I’ve found supports your innocence, which is what I—”
“What the hell is going on here?” Her shout echoed off the walls.
Gray merely accepted her anger. Absorbed it.
“I’m an FBI agent,” he said quietly. And then he reached into his pocket, hauled out a black wallet, and showed her his badge. Her world tilted on its axis.
He might as well have said, I’m an alien from a distant planet. Her brain struggled to process this and assimilate it into information that made sense.
“Not a prep chef. An FBI agent.”
He nodded. “Agent Grayson James Sloane.”
“You went to Le Cordon Bleu.”
“An assignment from my director. They gave me a crash course so I could go undercover here.”
“Does Ethan know?” She was starting to feel like a fool. If her head chef had known about this all along, she’d skewer him with his own butcher knife.
“No. Nobody did. I was hired blind.”
“And if you hadn’t gotten the job?”
“We’d have found another way to conduct our investigation.”
“Your investigation,” she repeated.
Suddenly she felt far adrift from Gray. Like he was floating away on a strange tide and she couldn’t reach him any longer. “Which is what, exactly?”
He cleared his throat. “Do you know a man by the name of Manny Delacruz? Or his older brother, Joaquin?”
“No. Should I?”
“Not necessarily. The Delacruz brothers are crooked casino owners I’ve been after for years. Joaquin is a billionaire, but he’s got his fingers in just about every dirty pie you can imagine.”
“Which has what to do with me?”
“Manny planted some of his men here, in your employ. They’ve been using Floor Fifty-Five as the base of their drug running operation almost since you opened your doors.”
“What kind of drugs?” she asked. This could not be real.
“Cocaine.”
“How?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“It’s really quite easy,” he said with a tired sigh. “They’re using your catering service and hauling the coke out wrapped up in empanada dough. Every time someone contracts your restaurant for their event, Manny’s men add on an extra van to make a ‘special delivery.’ Their scheme would’ve worked for years if Manny hadn’t been stupid enough to place a couple of his men here who were already on the FBI’s radar.”
“Have you found those responsible?”
“Yeah. We’re about to make a bust, so I want you to stay away from here for the next few days.”
Moving inside her office, she approached him. Some of the shock was starting to wear off, and in its place came a sick feeling in her guts. “I’m grateful that these scumbags are going to be removed from my sight and put in prison. But that’s not the whole issue here, is it?”
“No, it’s not.” His beautiful eyes were begging her to understand. “I had to make sure you were innocent.”
“Did you, now?” Her voice was cold. Distant. She rounded the desk and moved into his space. “And did that entail planting the bugs I found in my apartment tonight? Ransacking my office for good measure?”
“It was my assignment,” he said hoarsely. “I had to make sure. I wanted your name cleared so we could be together.”
“And was fucking me part of your assignment?” she spat.
His shattered expression spoke volumes. “No. It wasn’t like that. I mean, yes, I had to get close to you—”
“Close to me? You mean, lie to me, charm your way into my bed? Sweep my mother off her feet?” She gave a sad, broken laugh.
“I’ve had feelings for you since we first met. Don’t you remember that? I wanted you as a man, not an agent, and my feelings are real. I’m falling for you, Anna,” he said, voice cracking.
“Falling for me? I was falling for you, too, but you blew it apart! How am I supposed to ever trust you again?”
“Anna, I love—”
“Fuck you!” she shouted, shoving him.
Just then, the door to the office swung open and two men walked inside holding weapons. Men she instantly recognized as her employees Hernandez and Keene. The latter smirked, his smile ugly.
“Look what we have here. Good thing the old goat in the lobby is so observant, right?” He glanced at his partner. “Helpful of him to let us know one of our friends was up here working late. Wonder why you’d be here this time of night, eh?”
Hernandez’s dark eyes glittered. “Yeah. We’ve been watching you,” he said to Gray with a laugh. “You didn’t really think my buddy here bought that story about your being in the restroom when you disappeared from the kitchen the other night, did you?”
Gray said nothing, jaw tensing, expression angry.
Keene picked up the thread. “Figured it was you who was snooping around the basement. Also figure you’re a fed.”
“You figured right,” Gray snarled.
Before Anna could register what was happening, Gray pushed her behind him while reaching for something at the waistband of his jeans. As she lost her footing and fell, she realized it was a gun.
Gray’s draw wasn’t fast enough. The men opened fire, and Gray jerked twice, grunting as the bullets hit his flesh. Anna screamed in terror as crimson bloomed on his chest.
Falling backward, Gray returned fire, and the first man fell, blood smearing the door frame where his head had been. The second went down shooting back, and Gray took another hit. Lying on his side, the agent kept firing until the second man slumped to the floor as well, unmoving.
“Oh my God.” Scrambling to Gray, she took in his wounds frantically, not knowing what to do. There was so much blood soaking his chest and abdomen. She almost passed out from fear.
“Call 911,” he croaked.
“Okay. Just hang in there, do you hear me?”
“Not going anywhere.” He tried to smile, but it fell short.
She made the call and gave as much information as she could. Then, dropping the phone, she sat by him, clinging to his shirt. “Don’t you die on me. Understand?” Tears streamed down her face.
“I’ll do my best,” he whispered, searching her eyes. “I do love you. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”
“Just get well, okay?” She couldn’t talk about that right now. Couldn’t think about anything beyond whether he’d survive.
His face twisted in agony. “Phone, in my pocket. Call my partner. Simon . . . King. Please.” He murmured a passcode to his screensaver, which she memorized.
She fished in his jeans pocket. Grabbing the phone, she held it up. “I’ll call him just as soon as we get you out of here.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Forgive me, baby. Please . . .” His voice trailed off and his eyes closed. Then his body went slack, and she sobbed.
“Gray?” She shook him and yelled, “Gray? Please don’t go! Please!”
The NYPD arrived, assessing the situation and asking her a barrage of questions. The urgency mounted as they learned about the operation and that a federal agent was down. Meanwhile, the paramedics arrived, and she was pushed out of the way so they could work on Gray. She didn’t know medical terminology, but she caught enough to know his life was in danger. He’d taken three bullets, one each to the arm, chest, and abdomen. The last two were the worst, and the medics were worried.
In minutes they whisked him out, Anna following close behind. They wouldn’t allow her to ride in the ambulance, so she hailed a cab on the street, glad the cops had let her go. This was a federal case, so this partner of Gray’s would likely ride to the rescue. She hoped.
In the cab, she pulled up Gray’s contacts and found his partner. The phone rang twice before he picked up.
“Hey, man. You find anything new? We’ve got the raid all ready for tomorrow—”
“Simon?”
The man went silent for a few seconds. Then, tentatively, “This is Agent King. Who’s speaking?”
“I’m Anna Claire,” she said, another sob escaping. “Gray’s been shot. The ambulance just took him to Roosevelt Hospital.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Then the line went dead.
At the hospital, she called her mother, who immediately took a cab to meet her daughter. The second Margaret walked in, Anna flew into her arms and cried her soul out. Her mom guided her to some chairs where they sat, and she haltingly told her mother the story. Her mom just listened and held Anna, lending her support.
“What do you want to do about Gray?” Margaret asked gently. “Can you forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, the tears still rolling. “I want him to live, and I’m so afraid for him. But beyond that, I’m not sure.”
“Give it time,” was all Margaret said.
Simon King, when he arrived, wasn’t nearly so gentle or quiet. Gray’s partner fired questions at her left and right about what had happened in Anna’s office, and then made some calls, presumably to get the mess cleaned up.
It was while Anna was watching Simon make the calls—listening to
his voice—that the rest of the truth came to her, like a fog lifting.
“You,” she said, walking over to him as he hung up. He turned to face her, guilt already blooming on his face. “You’re my so-called attacker.”
He looked away, then nodded. “I’m sorry about that. We needed a way for Gray to get close to you faster than he might have otherwise.”
“To his suspect, you mean,” she said coldly.
King didn’t have much more to add. With another mumbled apology, he took a seat on the opposite side of the waiting room. Agents soon swarmed in to await the news on one of their own, but aside from the director asking her a bunch of questions, they left her alone. Fine by her.
It was hours before a doctor in scrubs came out and asked for the family of Agent Sloane. The agents gathered around, being his only family, and Anna hung toward the back.
“It was touch and go for a while, but barring complications, he should recover.”
A cheer went up, and Anna’s legs nearly buckled. Her mother took her arm, and Anna didn’t hear the rest of what the doctor said. Gray would survive. Nothing else mattered.
But their budding love was another story.
That he had planned a fake mugging so he could come to the rescue and get close to her was beyond despicable. It seemed to be the final nail in the coffin regarding any trust she might have regained in him.
“Sweetie, let’s get you home,” her mom said softly, touching her face. “You can’t do anything now, and you won’t be able to see him yet.”
“And you have a flight in the morning,” Anna remembered. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called and woken you!”
“Bull! You’re my baby, and nothing is more important than you. And I’m not leaving tomorrow. I won’t go until I know you’re all right.”
In that moment, she’d never loved her mother’s stubborn, unbending self more.
Reluctantly, she let Margaret lead her from the hospital.
***
Gray surfaced and knew nothing but pain. And in the midst of agony, he only wanted one person.
“Anna?”
