The Boss's Love

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The Boss's Love Page 3

by Casey Clipper


  Dinner turned into a celebratory occasion and wedding plans immediately got underway during the meal. Mrs. Murphy said she would contact Mrs. Millen to start on bridal shower arrangements. Courtney asked Diane to be a bridesmaid, and she assured Court she'd contact the other bridesmaids to start plans on a bachelorette party.

  "No strippers," Darren barked at his sister.

  Diane rolled her eyes.

  "Right back at you, Darren,” Courtney quipped.

  "Deal,” Darren said before Derrick, the best man, could play devil's advocate.

  Derrick chuckled and shook his head. "Man, you're something else. Who cares if she has strippers? She's coming home to you."

  "Don't." He glowered.

  Derrick held up his hands. "Okay, but you know Jack and Carl are going to want a cake."

  Courtney chuckled along with Diane, who gave her some sort of hidden signal wink. Whatever her future sister-in-law had in mind was something that would assumably get her into a world of trouble.

  Chapter 3

  Courtney

  Seated at her office desk early Monday morning, engrossed in her computer screen, the shrill of her phone interrupted her search.

  "Courtney Millen," she answered professionally.

  "Hi, Courtney, it's John Marshall. We met on Friday."

  "Of course, John. How are you?" she answered.

  "Good," he paused, "I would like to start looking for a home like we talked about. If you don’t mind."

  "I'm glad you called. I did a small search for starter homes that fit your description. If you're available I can meet you around eleven-thirty today to look at one of the homes,” she said.

  "That sounds good. Where do you want to meet?" John answered.

  John Marshall

  After Courtney gave him the address to the first house, John hung up the phone.

  "You're meeting her?" David asked, his skepticism evident by his tone.

  "Yes,” John answered short.

  "Why?" David challenged.

  "To get close to her. I know we can use her. I think she's our best bet/weapon and Murphy's biggest weakness,” John explained.

  "I agree that she is his biggest weakness but this isn't what we do. We should pick her up and bring her in for hours of questioning. Not pretend to buy a house from her or try to get close to her because of a crush,” David snarled.

  "I don't have a crush,” John snapped.

  David snorted. "Right."

  Sagging back in his chair, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Fuck, his partner was right. He did have a crush. Why wouldn't he? After all he's a man and Courtney is one very fine woman. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with me,” John admitted. He ran his hand down his face, tired and drained.

  "I understand what you see. She’s gorgeous, intelligent and kind. It would seem as if she's the total package. Which you and I can understand why any man would be taken with her. I’m sure that’s why Murphy is in love with her. But she's a mob boss's girlfriend. She's dirty, even if she knows nothing. Dirty. Being with Murphy has automatically placed her in that category. This needs turned over to the field team. We’re out of our element with this," he said.

  "That's very shortsighted of you, partner. If this poor woman is oblivious to her boyfriend's dealings, she's not dirty. Naive, not dirty. If that's the case than she's no good for any information. If she presumably knows nothing, bringing her in would be useless," John grumbled.

  "I don't see it that way."

  "We’re not leaving it to the field team. We’re already in. I’m the one who came up with this idea, and I’m the one who’s going to see it through. And I hate the fact that you call her dirty as if she's one of Murphy's sluts. Knock it off. She's not and you know it. I'd appreciate if you kept her out of that lump." John sighed heavily. "It limits you from seeing the entire spectrum of the case and use whatever information we have on her. It could have you making poor judgments based on preconceived notions."

  David gaped at him and then outright laughed. "I would have bought all of that if I didn't think you would bed her if the opportunity presented itself."

  He stood and left John to sit and stew by himself.

  Courtney pulled up to the two bedroom home and parked her car in the driveway next to a small Audi. As she climbed out of her car, John climbed out of his vehicle.

  "Mr. Marshall!" she exclaimed.

  "Please, call me John." He chuckled and held out his hand.

  "Okay, ready to see it?" she asked.

  "Sure, show me what you've got," he teased.

  She laughed. "One of those, are you?"

  "Yeah, pretty much.” he replied.

  Leading him to the front porch, Courtney went straight into her sales pitch. "It's a two bedroom, one and a half bath with a two car garage," she explained, ushering him inside. When she closed the door behind them, she continued through the house and gave him the ins and outs of the quaint home.

  "If you’re willing to put money into it, the kitchen could use some updating. Once you found yourself ready to move into a larger home, you could place that value into the new price,” she suggested.

  At the rear of the house, they stepped through the sliding glass door that led to a decent sized backyard with an in-ground pool. Surrounded by a tall, white fence gave the area a serene privacy. John stopped and took in the scenery.

  "Nice, isn't it?" she said.

  "It is. The backyard alone makes me wonder why the price is so low," John said.

  "Well, the owners passed away, and the children inherited the house but have no use for it. They’re trying to get rid of it. The price reflects their willingness to sell,” she explained.

  "Is there something wrong with the house itself? The roof? The water heater? Plumbing?" he asked.

  "No, it's in great shape. The Miller's, who owned it, took good care of the home,” she answered.

  A gleam of light blinded John for a brief moment. He automatically looked that direction to find a large, diamond ring now donning Courtney’s left hand.

  Courtney didn’t miss him gawking at her new piece of jewelry. "I said yes this past weekend.” She smiled indulgently.

  "Lucky guy,” John muttered.

  She shrugged. "He thinks so."

  A deep, familiar voice interrupted them, "Am I interrupting?"

  Courtney spun to find Darren standing in the doorway, grinning her direction.

  "I drove by and saw your car. I had no idea you would be here today," he explained. He stepped up to her and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

  "I just talked to John," she motioned the client's direction, "this morning and told him I could meet him to show him the Miller's home."

  Darren held out his hand. "Darren Murphy."

  "John Marshall. I met your fiancée on Friday at the bar. She offered to help me," John said. He was certain he didn't hide his disappointment.

  "Of course I remember. I'm glad you decided to call Courtney. She’ll never steer you wrong. She knows her homes," Darren, once again, bragged.

  Ugh. John internally rolled his eyes in disgust. Darren Murphy inarguably had the supportive boyfriend roll down. Eyeing his body language with Courtney, obviously he was head-over-heels or possessive. Hell, maybe both. He watched Darren snake an arm around her tiny waist and pull her close to him. John wanted to vomit.

  "Were you visiting Mom and Dad?" she asked Darren.

  "Yeah, I just dropped off Mom's meds. She's not doing too well today," he said worried.

  "Is she ill?" John asked curiously. Another opening maybe?

  Focusing in on John, Darren studied him for a moment, undoubtedly deciding whether to answer.

  Instead, Courtney answered without giving it a second thought. "She’s had pneumonia that hasn't cleared up. She’s been in and out of the hospital three times but can’t kick it. She has good days and bad days."

  "Well, I hope she gets well soon,” John said. He felt a twinge of sorrow. "My mother pass
ed away a few years ago from cancer. I know how difficult it is to watch someone you care about go through illness that you have no control over."

  "I'm so sorry, John,” Courtney said compassionately, her big, blue eyes grew wider with concern.

  John held up his hand. He didn't want to discuss his mother’s disease. Why he confessed her death to them was beyond him.

  "Did you have lunch?" Darren asked Courtney, a pointedly change of subject.

  "Not yet."

  "How about if we get something to eat? It’s been a while since we've had lunch together,” Darren suggested.

  "Okay, I'll meet you after John and I finish here,” she happily agreed.

  "Good." Darren respectfully kissed her cheek. "I'll text you the restaurant." He turned to John. "John, you can't go wrong with Courtney. If she's showing you this home, it's a good one."

  Holding out his hand, John shook Mr. Murphy’s firmly. Both men sized each other up. A palpable tension charged the silent exchange. Which man would call uncle?

  Darren

  Darren's hackles went up. Something about the man in front of him raised his internal warning signals. He glanced to his Courtney, instinctively not wanting to leave her alone with John Marshall. He looked back to John and found him eyeing his fiancée.

  Ah.

  It took every ounce of control to keep from growling aloud. Courtney belonged to him. At that moment, he realized he needed to approach her about no longer working. As soon as they married, that option would be gone. For her safety. He loathed the fact that men like Mr. Marshall could be alone with his girl to try and get their claws into her.

  Nope. Not going to happen much longer.

  Both men released each other's grasp simultaneously. Reluctantly Darren left the empty house and gave John one last silent warning glance over his shoulder. He knew the man wouldn’t miss it. God, it killed him to leave Courtney alone with him, but he had no choice if he didn’t want to piss her off. Angry Courtney tended to be a tiger and yanking her tail wasn't on his to-do list. Today.

  On his way out the door, he heard John say, "Now, let's talk numbers."

  "Great," his girl replied.

  When he climbed into his car, Darren dialed his brother, who answered on the first ring.

  "Darren, what's up?"

  "I need you to look into a John Marshall," Darren said in full boss mode.

  "Who is he?" Derrick asked.

  "A new client of Courtney's,” he growled. "I was just with her while she’s showing the Miller home. There's something not right about him, Derrick. I don't trust him."

  A long silence filled the air over their phones. Darren's phenomenal instincts when it came to someone about to betray, double cross, or target him were unrivaled. So Derrick never questioned him when his guard was raised.

  "Do you think this could be inside?" Derrick asked.

  "No, this is something different,” Darren said thoughtful. "FBI? Local? Other agency? It's no one we know flipping. I haven't heard any rumors. This is new."

  "And they're using Court,” Derrick stated matter-of-fact.

  "I'll kill them,” Darren growled.

  "Let me look into it. Keep your cool. If there is something up, maybe allow this guy to get a bit close to Courtney to flush him out," Derrick suggested.

  Darren grumbled disgusted. Easy for his brother to say, Courtney wasn't to marry him.

  "I know. I don't like it anymore than you do but just consider the long-run objective...her safety," Derrick reminded.

  "Fine, just find out fast," Darren barked then disconnected the call. If John Marshall used his girl to get to him, Darren vowed to make certain the man learned the hard way he never should have entertained the idea. Somehow Darren needed to keep a close eye on Courtney while the man was present. He damn well better decide on a home pronto.

  ***

  John Marshall

  One month later, John sat at the bank with Courtney and the manager of the bank branch, papers laid out on a large oak table for him to sign. When John finished the paperwork, Courtney handed him the keys to his new home.

  "Congratulations," she said.

  "Thank you, Courtney. I have to give you credit for making this easy on me. Friends of mine said their entire process was a nightmare," John said. He picked up his packet of photocopied forms. This part of the plan that developed hadn’t gone over well with his supervisor. John received an earful from his boss and spent a good three hours trying to convince his supervisor the plan was beneficial to gain entrance into the Murphy organization. David had sat next to him and never uttered a word, in complete disagreement with John’s handling of the case.

  "I do what I can," Courtney said, shoving papers into her briefcase.

  "Well you do a great job. Do you have plans for lunch? I’d like to take you out as a thank you," he said.

  "Sure, I'm free until about one," Courtney said delighted.

  The quaint Japanese restaurant bustled around John and Courtney while they waited for their lunch to arrive.

  "When's the wedding?" John asked. Time to dig.

  "September next year."

  "Wow, that's a short time to plan a wedding. Were you already in the planning stages?" he asked.

  She took a sip of her water. He lost focus watching her mouth caress the rim of the glass. "No, I just accepted the proposal, but Darren doesn't want to wait too long. I'm lucky he gave me a year."

  "How many people?" he murmured.

  "He says six hundred."

  "Six hundred?" Who the hell was Murphy inviting to this social event of the decade?

  "I had the same reaction," she groaned.

  "Do you both know that many people?" John asked. A perfect opportunity to quiz her on who she knew.

  "I don't and he couldn't possibly. He says it’s people he has to invite and I'm assuming he added my number in there. At least, I hope." She chuckled.

  "How much is the wedding costing you for six hundred?" he asked then caught himself. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked."

  Courtney pondered. "Huh, I have no idea. I don't know the banquet hall. Darren made the deposit. I'll have to find out. We hired a wedding planner. I'm too busy to deal with all of it."

  "Yes, I could understand hiring someone when you both work full time," he said. "What does your fiancé do for a living?" he baited.

  "Investments of some sorts. I'm not sure. It's about numbers and to be honest I'm not good at deciphering what it is he does with those numbers,” she answered. Her answered sounded entirely sincere.

  "But you sell homes?"

  She laughed, her eyes filled with mirth. "I know it's ridiculous, but true. When it comes to the complications of investing, I'm out. I can give you the price of a home and subtract five grand from it no sweat but that's where it pretty much ends."

  John snorted. "Some would say you're in the wrong business."

  "I know but I love homes. I love the feeling of being around a newlywed couple who falls in love with a house, or showing a man or woman who is looking for a place to start their own business with that hope in their eyes the space will make their dreams come true," she said passionately.

  Mesmerized. She captured him. He saw what Darren Murphy saw in her. A dreamer of hope, love, and everything roses. Of happily-ever-after. Lost in that sparkle in her eyes, he didn’t just hear her sincerity, he felt it.

  He caught himself staring when her features tightened. "Sorry, I got caught up in your speech. To love your job that much has to be rewarding."

  "For the most part it is," she agreed.

  "So are you planning any children soon after your marriage?" John asked.

  Courtney

  Taken aback, Courtney sat flabbergasted. What an immensely personal and inappropriate question. Who the hell would ask such a thing? Well, except for family of course, which Darren's mother already addressed the reproducing topic.

  Where was this coming from? Suddenly something didn't sit right with John Marshall
. She hadn’t paid too much attention to it before. She thought that maybe he was one of those people who crossed personal space boundaries. But now she kicked herself for not catching earlier he was more than likely hitting on her. Damn. Darren was going to be livid. He’d probably demand she quit her job.

  "Sorry, that was too personal." He must have realized he overstepped.

  Conveniently her cell phone rang. Glancing at caller ID, she silently thanked God her fiancé had an uncanny sixth sense. Internally she sagged with relief. With any luck Darren would perform the out she needed with a lunchtime rescue.

  "It's Darren," Courtney said and answered her phone. "Hey, honey."

  "What are you up to, baby?" he asked, his usual delightful tone he had when speaking with her seeped through.

  "I'm at lunch with John Marshall. We closed on his home," she said. Please, please, please become jealous enough to join us.

  The call went silent for a moment until Darren growled, "Where are you?"

  "The Japanese place on Sixth," she answered.

  "I'm not that far away. I'll join you." He disconnected the call without giving her an opportunity to argue.

  Thank God he was in overprotective mode.

  "Darren's going to stop by. He's nearby." She smiled without it reaching her eyes.

  Right before her eyes, she watched John's features grow dark. His eyes blackened and jaw flexed. A fear crept through her. A quick peek to the doorway, she prayed Darren got to the restaurant sooner rather than later.

  "I see he's the jealous type," John sneered. Obviously he refused to hide his displeasure.

  "No, he always calls to find out if we can meet for lunch," she said truthfully and watched the clock that conveniently hung behind John.

  Darren

  Darren burst through the double doors of the restaurant, his blood racing. A quick scan of the room, he found his Courtney and stalked to her side. She smiled up at him, relief evident on her beautiful features. Not a good sign.

  "Hi, honey," she breathed.

  "Baby," he said then bent down and kissed her. He refused to sit. His goal was to get Court the hell away from the man seated across from her. Darren gave Mr. Marshall a challenging once over then turned back to his girl. "I hope I'm not interrupting, honey, but can you come with me to look at a house with Jack's cousin. They're there now and need an unbiased opinion."

 

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