High Stakes Seduction - Book 4

by LeCoeur, Ami

  I grabbed my watercolors, putting together a simple wash, and set to work capturing the images the way I saw them.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ANGELA

  The taxi pulled up in front of Rosalie's. I searched the faces inside the diner, looking for Ryan as I paid the fare. I still hadn't found him by the time I stepped inside the door, but that was because he arrived just a moment later. Apparently I had beaten him to our rendezvous.

  "Angela!" He smiled broadly as he spotted me at the counter. "Have you been waiting long?"

  "Nope. Just got here, in fact, just a moment before you."

  As the waitress led us to our table, he leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "My goodness, it's really nice to see you." I just grinned at him, secretively loving the open attention.

  "So, how's the D.A.s office doing? Got anything interesting going on?" I asked as we slipped into the booth.

  "Oh you know, same old stuff. So what's good here to eat?" He stared at the menu.

  "Just about everything's good. But you've been here before, right?"

  "No. This is my first time. But I am hungry, I missed lunch today. Had something else to take care of."

  "Well, it's simple fare, but that's what I like. Sometimes my sister and I come here when we want a home-cooked meal but don't want to be bothered with doing the cooking."

  About then the waitress showed up, order pad in hand. "You ready to order, or you want the Daily Special? It's pot roast, comes with soup or salad. Gravy's really good tonight, and your choice of pie."

  A little comfort food sounded good to me, and Ryan agreed, so we ordered the Daily Special, along with a beer for Ryan and a white wine for me.

  "So," he said, leaning back and taking a long sip of the beer when she brought it to the table. "You're looking as lovely as I remember."

  "And you're just as straightforward as I remember," I laughed back at him.

  "What'd you expect? Comes with the territory, I suppose. I wouldn't know any other way to be."

  "Well, it's charming, and refreshing, believe me. So, how long have you been with the D.A.s office? And how do you like it?"

  "About eight years now. Hired right out of college. It's really the only place I've ever worked."

  "You must see some pretty interesting stuff."

  He laughed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, it's not all what you'd expect, especially after the 'reality TV' BS they show nowadays. I mean, it's interesting and all, but not exciting. Or not usually. But it can get pretty intense."

  "But you like it?"

  "Oh yeah. It does put you right in the middle of some pretty interesting stuff." He took another sip of beer. "So how about you? What's your line of work?"

  "Right. We never got around to talking about work on the plane did we?"

  "As I remember, we were having too much fun talking about other things." Then he winked at me, and I felt a little fluttering in my tummy. I liked this guy; he was cute, funny, and as far as I could tell, a good law-abiding citizen. Not like some people I could mention.

  But even if he was fun to flirt with, that wasn't the reason I was here.

  "I'm in retail. An associate for Mancini Enterprises." I saw his eyebrows go up. "You know him?"

  "In this town, are you kidding? Who hasn't heard of Antonio Mancini."

  I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign.

  "Ryan, how well do you know the D.A.? I mean, what kind of man is he to work for?"

  "Oh, he's decent enough—a lot better than the last guy we had in there. I mean, it is my job to get along with him, he's my boss. But I'm Civil Service, he's elected. And that means my boss, the man 'in charge', could change at any time, depending on the whim of the voters. I'm just glad Stephens is not too far off from where the rest of us sit on most things."

  I took another sip of my wine, trying not to appear too anxious. "Is he involved in the day-to-day running of things, or is he just a figurehead?"

  "Oh, he's a hands-on guy. The last one, though, you could never find him—always at some kind of meeting or special session. Never in the office. I mean, Stephens has his share of those things, but he's good about keeping us in the loop, and when he's gone, we all pretty much cover for each other."

  "Sounds like a nice place to work."

  "Ha," he said. "Not so much, if you consider the kinds of people and the kinds of cases we have to work with sometimes."

  Well, that made sense. Before I could ask him more, our dinner arrived. We spent the next fifteen minutes simply enjoying our meal in relative silence, with a smattering of chit chat.

  I finished my pot roast and pushed my plate away, anxious to return to our earlier conversation.

  "So, you trust Brad Stephens?"

  "Sure. He's a pretty good guy, and a pretty good boss."

  "Do you think he'll run for office again? I mean, would you like him too?"

  "I've been through three D.A.s so far. And he's the best of the lot. So, yeah, I think he'll run, and I'd like to see him win. The voters seem to like him."

  "Well, there are the rumors. You know, about his dealings with those consultants."

  He looked at me for a moment, his eyes crinkling curiously. "Oh, I wouldn't pay any attention to those. That was just sour grapes—something drummed up to cast a bad light on him. You know, we had a full internal investigation, and there was never anything proven. Not even close."

  "But how can you be sure? Doesn't that make you nervous, working for someone who could be doing something illegal?"

  Ryan looked at me, eyes narrowed, a frown creasing his forehead. "What are you getting at, Angela? Why all these questions about Stephens? Just what is it you're interested in knowing?"

  My stomach tightened at the sharpness in his voice. He'd never used that tone with me, and what had started out as a friendly dinner now felt more like an interrogation. In fact, that straightforwardness I had appreciated earlier was now directed at me, and it made me mighty uncomfortable.

  I sat there for a moment, composing my thoughts. I wanted information, but I didn't want to get Antonio into trouble. I didn't trust Carmiante or Walker, and I had no idea what their plan was. But, just as importantly, I had no idea if Brad Stephens was involved in some kind of underhanded activity, or if he was just another victim who was in their way.

  "Do you have some kind of special investigation going on right now?" I asked.

  He huffed out a laugh. "Angela, there are all kinds of special investigations going on right now. I'll ask you again, what is it you're trying to find out? Specifics, Angela, specifics."

  I swear, my palms were sweating. I rubbed my hands on my napkin, trying to calm my nervousness. I sipped my wine, soothing my suddenly dry throat.

  "I've heard some things… recently. I can't tell you the… source, but what I heard was about… the D.A."

  His nostrils flared as he inhaled a quick breath. "What about the D.A.?"

  "Well, you see, that's why I asked what kind of man he was, and if you trusted him."

  "Angela! Get to the point!"

  I bit my lip, did I really want to name names? Where might that lead? Back to Antonio? That's not what I wanted. At least… I didn't think I wanted it to. I mean, I was really pissed at him, at the way he treated me, but I didn't want to do him harm, for heaven's sake.

  "I saw the front page the other day," I started again. "You know, the picture about the donation to the Children's Academy?"

  Ryan nodded, silent, watching me, his blue eyes piercing into me. Waiting.

  "Well, I'm not so sure about the people who are on the Board of Directors of that charity. The things I've been hearing make me wonder if there's something else going on."

  "Such as?"

  "Such as I don't know… But the people I heard talking about it are not nice people. In fact, they're downright scary. So, what do you think?"

  "About what?"

  "About what I just said!” I sputtered out, exasperated. “There are some really
sinister guys implying that there's something wrong with the South Side Children's Academy. What do you think about that?"

  He looked at me a moment longer. "Do you have any specific information for me?"

  "I can't say anything more than what I've already said. But you should look into it." Dang. Why was he being so obtuse? How many hints would I have to drop?

  "Angela, there isn't anything to look into. Unless you have some specific information, there's nothing for me to check out."

  "Oh come on, Ryan! Surely you can do some checking into the Children's Academy. At least into the background of those people on the Board of Directors. I think it might be very important."

  He sat there silent, lost in his own thoughts, watching me as he finished his beer.

  "I don't know. Sounds like a lot of innuendo to me." He picked up the check. "Maybe your imagination is overreacting."

  "But it's not…" I protested. "There's something to what I heard. And it's… I know it's important."

  "But, you won't tell me where you heard it or who you heard it from. You have to realize how unhelpful that is." He brushed his hair off his forehead as he stared at the space in front of his plate.

  "I… I know. I'm sorry." I looked at him hopefully, imploringly.

  He looked out the window, to the ceiling and then back at me. "Okay, Angela, but only because we almost went to high school together. And, no promises."

  "Oh, thank you!" I leaned over, my arm pulling him close so I could give him a big, wet kiss on the cheek. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that."

  He grinned. "Now see, that's all you needed to do to convince me in the first place."

  Was he kidding? I couldn't tell. But suddenly I felt lighter than I had since we'd come back from the cruise. I still didn't know what was going on, but maybe someone else could get to the bottom of it.

  At the front door, he hailed a cab for me. Then he turned, smiling that cute little smile of his. "Angela, seriously, if there's anything to this, I'll give you a call. I need to ask you something. And I need an honest answer.”

  I paused, sensing his seriousness. “Yes, what is it?”

  “Did you only connect with me to interrogate me about the Children’s Charity? Or…”

  Looking into his eyes, I realized it wasn’t the only reason I’d wanted to see him again. I liked him. Quite a lot, in fact. It was easy to answer with an honest, “No. That’s not the only reason.” I looked down at my feet and then up at him again, wanting him to see from my face that I wasn’t just using him.

  He smiled, one side of his mouth rising into a boyish grin. “Good, I’m glad because I'd like to see you again. I already know how you feel about basketball, so what about a movie sometime?"

  A movie? A movie would be nice, I thought. A normal date, a break from gala events, and having to worry about always being on display, or on edge. "Sure, that sounds like fun. Just give me a call."

  That got a big grin. He opened the door to the cab, helping me inside. Then he leaned down and gave me a very sweet kiss, full on the lips. "Comedy or drama?" he asked.

  It took me a moment before I understood what he meant. "Comedies are fun," I answered. Lord knows I have more than enough drama in my own life right now!

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I turned the key in the lock, expecting the living room to be empty.

  "Hey, Sis, You're still up," I tossed my purse on the couch and went over to give Maria a big hug. "I brought dessert home. Blueberry pie. You want to share it with me?"

  "Sure. So tell me, how was your date?" she asked, her eyes twinkling and her eyebrows moving up and down in question.

  I ignored her for the moment, grabbed a couple of forks from the drainer on the kitchen counter and stepped back into the living room.

  "Well… my non-date was really good.” Better than good, really. "He’s so easy to talk to. It turned out to be very… fruitful."

  "Fruitful? Now that's a strange thing to say about a date."

  "A non-date,” I reminded her with a grin.

  "Did he buy you dinner?"

  "You know he did. You're eating part of it," I replied.

  "Then that's a date."

  "How about almost-a-date?"

  "Date lite?" she suggested.

  "Okay, okay," I laughed. "I give up. Look he wants to go to the movies sometime. That can be our official date. And if you insist, I'll even have him come by and meet you first."

  Catching a glimpse of the chaos behind her, I jumped at the chance to change the subject. “What are you up to?" I pointed at the interesting portraits scattered over the desk. I reached around her to pick one up.

  She shrugged. "Just some watercolor washes I've been experimenting with."

  They were fascinating and hauntingly beautiful monochromatic studies. I looked through the half-dozen portraits she had painted while I'd been gone. Each face reflected a sereneness that seemed to glow from within. "These are beautiful,” I breathed, and they really were. “Whatever inspired you to paint these?"

  She pointed over at the computer. "I was going through some of your photos, and I came across these interesting ones that looked like people around a campfire."

  Campfire? Oh, the volcano trip, a lantern in the middle of our little group. Which reminded me…

  "Maria, there's something I never told you about the volcano trip."

  "Really?" Maria raised her eyebrows and waited.

  "Well, I had a little… special adventure on that trip. See, we were coming back from the volcano on this narrow twisty road, when the driver veered the bus away from a rockslide, but we ended up over the side of the mountain."

  Maria's eyes got large. "Was everyone okay?"

  "Yeah, we got a little banged up, but the bus got it the worst. We were stranded until they could pick us up. So we missed the ship, but they put us up overnight in a really swanky hotel, and then flew us to meet the ship at the next stop. In fact, that's when I bought your carved bird. I got it the next day, shopping near the hotel."

  "And you decided not to tell me, because…" I heard the hurt in Maria's voice.

  "Well, there was nothing you could do. In fact, there was nothing I could do, either. But mostly, I didn't want you to worry about me. And I was afraid, if I told you about my little adventure, that you would be worried about me for the rest of the trip."

  I couldn't tell how Maria was taking my confession, or even what she was thinking. She didn't look happy, more stunned and thoughtful if anything.

  "Part of why I bought the bird was because it was a special souvenir, even for me. And, the reception I got from Antonio when I got back to the ship, oh Maria… that was priceless."

  In fact, those next few days on-board ship had turned into something I would never forget. I sighed. Antonio, Antonio. Everything kept coming back to Antonio. Would we ever be able to free ourselves from this hold he had over our lives?

  "Well," she said after taking a moment to consider what I'd just shared, "I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pissed that you held something that important from me and even more pissed that you still insist on treating me like a fragile doll, unable to handle the realities of life.”

  “But…” I tried to interject, not used to hearing her raise her voice at me, but the hand she lifted, palm out, silenced me.

  “But…I'm glad everything turned out okay. You need to promise me something. First of all, you need to promise me you'll try to keep those kinds of "adventures" to a minimum? Because you're right, I would have worried like crazy until you got back home."

  I nodded, waiting for her to continue.

  “The second thing you need to promise me is to stop treating me as if I’m an invalid. My legs may be useless, but my mind and spirit are not. It does me no good for you to treat me like I’m delicate and breakable.” She lifted her chin and looked straight into my eyes. “It’s pathetic and I refuse to be pathetic anymore.”

  I stared at her, wanting to defend m
yself, wanting not to believe that she thought that’s what I’d been doing. Then I saw it through her eyes and realized that I couldn’t defend my behavior. What had started as my wanting to make her transition easier had turned into me thinking I had to protect her from life. I have treated her differently; sometimes even with kid gloves, as if she was fragile. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized my best intentions were hurting her instead.

  “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I have been overly protective of you. I just wanted to make things as good for you as possible.”

  Her eyes softened. “I know that, Sis. And a huge part of me appreciates that; it was what I needed in the beginning as I processed through everything and got used to this new life.” She waved her hand at her wheelchair. “But no more. I can never get stronger, emotionally or physically, until I can also learn to bear the weight of life on my own.”

  I thought about what she said, feeling as if I'd done her a disservice. I wanted to assure her that it was from love and not pity. I wanted to tell her that I understood, but she went on; there was more she needed to say.

  “Do you remember when we were little, and we found the chrysalis?” She waited for my nod. “We watched it for days and days it seemed, waiting for the butterfly to emerge.”

  I remember that clearly. We’d poked holes in the top of a jar just like Mama had told us, and placed the chrysalis inside, setting the jar on the kitchen table so we could watch it for signs of life.

  “I never told you this - never told anyone - but that night, I couldn’t sleep and I’d gone to the kitchen to get some milk. I walked over to the jar and saw it moving and was so excited, I sat down to watch.”

  She looked down at her hands, wringing them together. “I waited for almost an hour, watching the cocoon crack open a tiny bit in one spot, but nothing else happened. I was worried there was something wrong, so I decided to help it get free. I… I took it out of the jar and… helped it.” She sighed. “Or so I thought.”