Uncovering You 6: Deliverance

by Scarlett Edwards

I would be in charge of six marketers already familiar with the company. Our role would be to mitigate the damage from negative reports about Stonehart Industries. The ultimate goal would be to best position the company for a spectacular IPO.

  I would be accountable only to Jeremy Stonehart and his board. Ultimately, since he still has majority control, I’d be accountable only to him.

  Time is tight. The IPO is less than a month away. As far as I can tell—though I don’t know, because I still haven’t been given access to the information—there are some pretty damning allegations going around about the company.

  Jeremy’s behavior since he got back confirms that things aren’t quite right in his enterprise. If they were, I don’t think he’d be putting in the hours he does. I remember the reporter who jumped us outside the Gala. If those are the type of stories floating around… well, my team and I will have a lot of work to do.

  If this were just a regular job offer, I’d be over the moon. But it’s more than that. It’s my ‘in’ into the company. It’s exactly what I need to get my final revenge.

  Despite all outside appearances, revenge is still on my mind.

  After the IPO, my role would transition to something else. The offer does not clarify what that is. But, I can read between the lines: This is Jeremy testing my suitability for the Dextran spot.

  I no longer doubt that he actually means to give it to me.

  That’s the gist of what I find in the binder. There are other terms, NDA’s, and legal compliance things.

  There’s also the compensation offer: Three hundred thousand dollars, flat, per year… not including performance bonuses.

  Living with Jeremy, it’s not like I need the money. I can’t help but feel that it’s a bit of a sweetheart deal. Then again, maybe it’s not. The role definitely is important.

  Still, it’s astounding to think that, if I sign, I would have that type of income. Had I actually graduated Yale, it would have taken years—a decade, maybe more—before I could even have the chance of earning that much. Had I graduated Yale and gotten a job like that, I would have wiped my debt clean in a year.

  I glance to where the camera is. I don’t think Jeremy is watching me. Not now. Finally, that feeling of constant surveillance is something I can erase.

  I rise purposefully from the bed. Into the control room I go. As promised, I find the PIN right under the keyboard.

  I type it in and the system prompts me to enter a new master password. I get goose bumps when I hit the “enter” key.

  With that, I think, I am in true control of the house.

  The first thing I do—the thing I’ve waited for so long--is turn the cameras off. All of them. Not a single one will remain in use any longer.

  From here on in, this house will be blind.

  Then I log off. Now is not the right time to think about what to do with the archives. It’s not even the right time to see what type of things Jeremy’s been doing without my knowledge. I want to know if there’s been anybody else like Angelica, or exactly how Jeremy first deposited me by the pillar in the sunroom… whether he had any help, maybe even from Rose… but not tonight.

  Tonight, all I want to do is think about the new contract… and plan, exactly how I will make use of the position to get my revenge.

  Chapter Eighteen

  One week later Jeremy and I are together on a plush rug in front of a roaring fireplace in his San Jose apartment. I have my head in his lap. He is gently stroking my hair, while we both sip an astounding vintage wine.

  The last seven days have been a whirlwind of events. I signed the contract, and Jeremy personally introduced me to my new team on Monday. He told me to come to him if there were any problems, and then left me alone to do my job.

  Getting acclimated to being around people again took some time. But, by mid-week, I was in full stride. I learned just how badly some people wanted an IPO to fail. You don’t create a company the size and influence of Stonehart Industries without making a few enemies. When it was still private, there was little these people could do. But now that Stonehart Industries is gearing up for the public offering, all the wolves have come out to play.

  I’ve found the mental stimulation that I’ve been missing. Dealing with Jeremy for as long as I have has prepared me better than any type of education would have for the job. I assume some of the situations I’ve been thrown into in the workplace would be stressful to most. But, I don’t even bat an eyelash. Nothing comes close to dealing with Stonehart—when he still was Stonehart. Having that experience makes me immune to pretty much anything on the job.

  Jeremy and I leave the house at the same time each morning, but in different cars. That was my idea. He was against it at first. He didn’t give a damn if others whispered about favoritism in his company. But I convinced him, in bed, at the time when men are most receptive to such things, that it would allow me to appear more independent that way.

  I also had him fire Angelica.

  Things with Rose remain exactly the same. That is, she is still avoiding me.

  That’s something I still need to figure out. But I haven’t had time to commit to it.

  “A toast,” Jeremy proclaims. “To the most spectacular first week on the job that I’ve seen yet. You are a star, Lilly. You’ve shown me I made the right choice.”

  I smile, sit up, and clink glasses with him. Sleet and hail pound the window. But here, by the fireplace, with him, everything feels perfect.

  We sip our drinks. He puts his glass down and looks at me. I see the dancing flames reflected in his eyes. More than that, I see such unbridled adoration. Such ultimate devotion is enough to make my heart beat faster.

  I lean towards him with a sly smile. “Lie back,” I whisper, placing one finger on his chest and pushing down.

  He complies without a word. Our eyes stay locked.

  His back hits the rug. I drape one leg over him and run my hands from his waist up to his shoulders, then down both his arms. Our fingers entwine. I want nothing more, right now, than to melt into him.

  Our lips touch. It’s a delicate kiss, unhurried and unrushed. With nowhere to be tomorrow, he and I have all night.

  The kiss deepens. It is not exploratory anymore, but more excited. He slides his hands along the sides of my body, holding me tight, pressing me into him. I can feel him growing hard.

  And then the phone rings.

  “Fuck!” he mutters. I roll off him. I know that if he gets a phone call to his personal cell, it is important.

  But like I said, we have nowhere to be on the weekend. I’ll let him take it, and then we can resume.

  Jeremy reaches for his jacket. Halfway through the motion, he stops, and frowns.

  “That’s not me,” he says. “It’s you.”

  He’s right. My heart skips a beat. There’s only one person outside this room who has my number: Fey.

  “What time is it?” I ask.

  He looks at his watch. “Already eleven.”

  “That’s nearly two in the morning on the East Coast,” I say.

  Jeremy nods. “If she’s calling now, you’d better take it.”

  I hesitate. “Are you sure? I mean, we…”

  He smiles at me. “Take it, Lilly,” he says softly. “I’ll be right here waiting when you’re done.”

  “Okay.” I take the phone out of my purse and pick it up. “Hello?”

  “Lilly.” Fey sounds breathless, frantic. “Oh my God! Thank goodness you’re there.”

  Immediately, I sit up, concerned. “Yeah. I’m here. What’s up? Is everything alright?”

  “No,” she tells me. “No, it’s not.”

  My gut seizes up. “What is it?”

  “Robin,” she says. “He’s… he’s…”

  I stand and pace away from the fire. “What about Robin?” I ask, fearing the worst. “Fey, what’s happened? Is he okay?”

  “Yes,” she says quickly. “Yes, Robin’s fine. It’s what he found, Lilly. It’s you.”
r />   “Me?” My senses go on high alert. I glance over my shoulder at Jeremy. “What do you mean, me?”

  “Are you alone?” Fey asks. “Jeremy. Jeremy Stonehart. Is he around?”

  “No,” I lie. “I’m by myself, Fey. You have to calm down. Tell me what’s going on.”

  The words pour out of her so fast that I can barely keep up.

  “After you told me about your father,” she rushes, “I couldn’t get the story out of my head. Something about it didn’t jive with me. I told Robin, and he agreed.

  “Well, you know how he’s now a reporter. Right? He put those resources at The Economist to work. He did some digging. Some investigating. And I just heard what he discovered.”

  A feeling of apprehension washes over me. “What?” I whisper.

  “Jeremy Stonehart,” she says, “did not just take a random interest in you.”

  I look back at the man sitting on the rug before the fire. He is watching me very carefully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your father—Paul—and his mother—Jeremy’s mother? They knew each other, Lilly. Robin showed me. He traced it all back.

  “It happened right around the time you were born. When Paul left you, he went to California, chasing drugs.

  “Paul was young, strapping, handsome. He was also poor. He needed cash to fund his drug habit. He met and seduced Jeremy’s mother, Lilly. He used her as the gateway to get what he needed.

  “They had an affair. She was a much older woman. Her marriage wasn’t working. She was rich. She had money. I don’t know how they met. But, Paul used her, Lilly.”

  I feel a chill wash over me. My hand trembles as I hold out the phone toward Jeremy. I press the button to route the audio to speakerphone.

  Fey continues rambling.

  “Paul used her,” Fey repeats. “She was susceptible to his charms. She gave him money so that he would keep coming back. Somewhere along the way, he got her addicted… and, well, this is where things get murky.

  “Robin told me as much as he could. But, all this was covered up. He had to dig really hard to find it. Apparently, Jeremy’s mother was deaf. One day she was in Paul’s apartment, alone. She fell asleep waiting for him. Something went wrong. A fire broke out in the kitchen. The alarms went off, but she couldn’t hear them.

  “She was the only casualty. By the time the smoke woke her up, it was too late. She couldn’t get out. She burned to death.”

  Jeremy, on the floor, gives absolutely no indication of whether what Fey is saying is true. He just continues to watch me. I can tell that his mask has remained.

  “So…” I breathe.

  “So, don’t you see, Lilly? You were targeted by Jeremy Stonehart.”

  “Think! What would a man with his power, his wealth, want from a fresh-faced twenty-three-year-old still in college? Did he pluck you out of the crowd because of your looks? I’m not saying this to hurt you, Lilly. But you’re not exactly model-material, you know. Sex? He could get that from anybody. It did not have to be you.

  “But revenge… vengeance… for his mother’s death? Oh, yes.

  “He’d already gotten to Paul. I’m sure of it. But maybe when he found him, and saw his mental state, it was not enough. So, Jeremy went after his daughter. He went after you.

  “You have to get out, Lilly. I’m warning you.” Fey’s absolutely frantic at this point. “Get out of California. Get away from the man. You’re only there as a pawn. Your life might even be in danger. Don’t you see? Don’t you see, Lilly? This is a revenge plot. You’re in the center of it! You have to get out. You have to—”

  “He’s coming,” I cut her off. “I’ve got to go, Fey. Thank you.”

  “Be careful,” she warns. “I’ve looked up flights. Robin and I can be there to take you away tomorr—”

  “No!” I break in. “No! Don’t do that. I need time, Fey. Time to think. Time to—”

  I don’t get to finish. The phone slips through my fingers and falls to the floor. The line cuts off.

  I’ve gone numb all over. I look at Jeremy. I feel cold.

  “Is it true?” I whisper.

  Slowly, he stands. The fluidity of his motion reminds me of a rising lion. I feel like I should run, like I should get away. But, my feet are rooted to the spot.

  He does not approach.

  “If I say it is…” He pauses. His eyes cross the space between us. “will you hate me for it?”

  I hesitate, grappling with the new information. Is this the answer I’ve been looking for? Is this the reason why?

  And, knowing it now, knowing that it could be…

  Does it really change anything between us?

  “No,” I breathe.

  “In that case…” Jeremy’s dark eyes focus on me.

  “Yes.”

  The End.

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  ....

  Prologue

  Summer. 1978.

  “M-mama?”

  The young boy brought one trembling hand to the door. He pushed.

  It did not budge.

  Beyond the heavy oak, he could hear the woman’s sobs. His mother’s sobs. They tore at him, because of what he could not do. He could not go to her. He could not comfort her.

  He could not protect her.

  Footsteps. From down the hall. The young boy’s head whipped around. His heart caught in his throat.

  He was not supposed to be here. That, he knew. It was forbidden, for many different reasons, but only one was pertinent.

  Because his father had said so.

  Frantic, his eyes searched for an escape. They scanned the empty corridor-there was only one way out. Down the stairs away from the attic.

  Where the footsteps were coming from.

  He looked for a hiding place. An open fire roared on the other side of the room. It was a grand room, and rarely used, but the servants always ensured that no room in the large, soulless mansion lay neglected.

  The footsteps were getting louder. He could still hear his mother’s crying on the other side of the door. He gave one last, futile push-even thought he knew it was useless-and scampered to hide behind the large armchair by the fire.

  He peaked from behind the back at the entrance to the room. He could see the shadow cast by the person climbing the steps growing larger and larger. Fear constricted his throat. He clutched the book he was holding in front of his chest like a shield of armor.

  But he knew, deep inside, that nothing could protect him.

  “Je…remy…” His brother’s singsong voice came to his ears. “Je…remy…. Little Jeremy, where did you get to?”

  The young boy winced. He hated being called that. He hated what it represented, what it meant. He hated what it reminded him of. That he would never be the match of either of his brothers.

  He saw his brother’s shape emerge from the flight of stairs. If the boy was scared before, one look at his brother was enough to make him terrified.

  Robert, at 17, was already a full-grown man. Wide shoulders gave prominence to a bulky frame that suited him perfectly for rugby. A few days of not shaving already had a thick beard on his cheeks. His hair wild, disheveled-betrayed what he’d been doing earlier with on of the housekeepers, before fancy struck him to seek out a victim for the night.

  The boy did not know why his father tolerated Robert’s nocturnal activities. They were cruel, sadistic. More than once in the past year, he had woken up to find the family dog beaten within an inch of its life. Each time, he had nursed it back to health-only to have it happen again a few weeks later.

  Eventually, the poor beast just disappeared. Nobody spoke of why. In fact, Jeremy seemed the only one to even notice.

  There were other incidents. One month ago, Jeremy di
scovered a shoebox wrapped in gifting paper waiting for him at the breakfast table. He had woken late, and missed the rest of the family. He was alone when he opened it. Inside, he found-as his stomach recoiled at the memory-six little parakeets. Their necks horribly twisted, lying in a bed of straw.

  He’d brought the box to his father. Jeremy knew the man knew who was responsible. He’d expected some sort of punishment for Robert, maybe of the kind he’d received so often-but all he got was an angry scolding for interrupting him when his father was working.

  “They’re birds, Jeremy,” his father had said. “Dead ones, at that. They can’t harm you.” Jeremy remembered the leer his father cast at him then. “Don’t tell me you’re frightened of the dead?”

  Jeremy closed the box and threw it out, but the image of those six helpless parakeets haunted his dreams for the next two weeks.

  ....

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