THE WILDE TOUCH: Book Two of The Touch Series
Page 14
Were her suspicions about Incognito his opportunity to prove he wasn’t the bad guy? That her happiness had always mattered to him? And that he’d be willing to do anything to prove that? “I have an idea.”
She lifted her face, her eyes brimming with hope. “I’m listening.”
“I’ll do one better. I’ll show you.”
14
Hatching Their Plan
Though the side streets hadn’t been plowed, Crockett had no trouble trucking through the six inches of packed snow. He rolled over the tire tracks of those brave enough to venture out ahead of him. Even at half-past eight, there was more traffic than he’d anticipated. As he pulled onto the plowed main road, Alexandra’s ringtone blasted from her handbag.
“Hello.”
After listening, she said, “I am working on a story, Max. I’m conducting an interview.” Her staccato tone caused him to glance over.
“You want me to cover what?” After a longer period of silence, she replied, “Got it. Arlington Hill.” She hung up and growled.
Even angry, her husky groan had always aroused him. Sometimes he’d say something just to coax her into making that raw, gritty sound. And today was no different. She still affected him in the best of ways.
With his eyes on the road, he said, “Snowstorms around here are always big news.”
“It would appear that way.” After thumbing around on her phone, she dialed. “I’ll have to postpone that trip to your office. I need a rental car.”
“Hang up, Alexandra.”
“What?”
“After last night’s spinout, you’re not driving in this. It can take days for trucks to plow the side streets.”
“I’ll call a taxi or car service.”
“Like hell you will. I’ll take you to Arlington Hill.” He eased the truck to a stop at the red light and fixed her with a hard stare. This issue was non-negotiable. Despite his plan to get to the office early to analyze Maverick’s downed Eagle, helping Alexandra trumped that.
She studied him like he’d grown a second nose. With that strong Mitus independent streak, he expected she’d fight him on this. Instead, her expression softened. Her sweet smile sent a bolt of energy powering through him.
“Thank you. You’re right. I don’t want to drive in this.”
He wanted to hug her. Alexandra Mitus never showed vulnerability. “Let’s get to work.”
When she tucked her chin, her cascading hair shadowed her pink cheek. “I’m embarrassed.”
The light turned green and he moved forward. “What for?”
With a quick toss of her dark mane, she shook it off. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Her pain became his. Refusing to let it go, he murmured, “Tell me.”
“I have to cover the kids sledding.” Her last word caught a tremble.
She wants me to respect her as a journalist. “Snow is a hot topic. Even Washington politics takes a back seat. You’ll see.”
“My career has taken a major step backward, but it’s okay.” Squaring her shoulders, she pursed her lips. “I sound like a spoiled brat. I’m sorry.”
As he turned onto a residential street, he glanced over. “I understand. You gave up a lot for your mom.”
“I love her and Colton so much. I hope my being here is helping.”
“Kimberly is thrilled. Everyone missed you.” Me, most of all. He searched her face for a sign, the tiniest clue, a flicker of hope that there was something between them besides a few nights of passion or her relentless need to unearth the truth and save a woman from suspected abuse.
She ran a soft hand over his shoulder and adrenaline powered through him. “Thank you for the ride.”
Her touch could slay him. And she probably didn’t even know—or care. One effin’ step forward and two back. This woman would be his undoing.
He parked in the older Arlington neighborhood filled with quaint brick homes and a small dog park. Leaning over, he eyed her rubber boots. “No four-inch heels today.”
“I grabbed them last night before we made our great escape.” With the cutest smile, she lifted her leg to show him. “I love my Hunter rubbers. They’re super-dependable.” Her eyes popped wide. “Oops.”
“I’m familiar with Hunter and his dependable rubbers.” The air grew electric as they stared into each other’s eyes. When her breathy sigh floated between them, he leaned close. Her lips parted and she flipped her attention to his mouth. “Watch out for ice patches.” He slipped on his Maui Jim’s and exited the truck.
As soon as she stepped out, he was waiting. Snow boots or not, he wrapped his hand around her slender arm. Just another excuse to touch her, but falling in plain sight would add insult to injury.
“Thank you.” She slipped on her dark shades as they trudged into the cul-de-sac. “It’s so cold. Hard to believe I used to spend hours outside sledding when I was a kid. No snow days in Uvalde, huh?”
She remembered. “No, ma’am. Big news when the temp dipped below forty.” He surveyed the area. “Where’s your camera crew?”
“Someone’s meeting me here.”
He led her through the well-stomped footpath between two brick homes. As the expansive hill appeared before them, she gasped. “What the—”
Even at eight forty-five in the morning, there were dozens of children sledding down the ginormous hill while several dogs romped in an impromptu pack.
“Welcome to your story, Goth Girl.”
“Alexandra Reed,” someone called.
With her hand positioned over her sunglasses to shield the snowy glare, she stared and stared. Then a giant grin erupted on her face. “Gavin!” Her hand shot into the air, and she waved at the tall man with long dreads trekking toward them.
Although he had two large bags slung over each shoulder, she threw her arms around his neck. “What a shock!” she said.
“Good to see you, doll!” Gavin threw his burly arms around her. “You’re looking fab as always.” After setting the camera bags on a cushion of packed snow, he hitched his hands on his hips. “Max never said a word.”
“No surprise there. I can’t imagine he enjoys having to utter my name.”
Laughing, Gavin extended his hand to Crockett. “Gavin Aviato.”
“Crockett Wilde.” The two men shook hands. “Good to meet you. How do you two know each other?”
“Alexandra and I worked together in California. We made a great team—called ourselves Mutt and Jeff. I moved when my partner—now husband—Bruce returned to DC.”
Alexandra grinned. “Congratulations. That’s so awesome.”
Gavin ungloved his hand to display a wedding band. “The old ball and chain.”
They laughed.
Gavin eyed Crockett. “You snagged yourself a handsome one, girl. Lord knows Bruce and I tried fixing her up, but our gal was too picky for her own good.”
“Oh, no, he’s not my—” Alexandra blurted.
“I’m an old friend,” Crockett said. “Alex needed some help navigating through the snow.”
“I’ve got her if you need to head out,” Gavin said.
“I’ll be a while,” Alexandra said to Crockett. “Gavin, would you mind dropping me off at Crockett’s office in Crystal City? He won our DC’s Brightest Tech Star contest.”
“Congrats. That’s a big ratings boost for our station. I’ll team with you on that, if you want, Alexandra.”
“Like old times,” she said. “Only, Crockett hasn’t agreed to the interview.”
“Ooh, honey, you know I love a man who plays hard to get,” Gavin said and Alexandra laughed.
“All righty, then, I’ll take off,” Crockett said.
“Hellooooo,” someone hollered.
Not bothering to turn around, Gavin cringed. “I’ve got teacher’s pet in tow. In addition to being an award-winning cinematographer, I can add chauffeur to my list of accomplishments. Max had me pick Stacy up.”
“Is she a reporter?” Crockett asked.
Al
exandra sighed. “She covers the White House.”
“Brace for insanity,” Gavin whispered. “And God help us.”
With one hand gripping her hip while the other shielded her eyes from the sun, Stacy appeared beside Gavin. “How long will this take? I’ve got to get to POTUSville.”
Shaking his head, Gavin ignored her. “I’ll set up here, Alexandra.”
Eyeing Crockett, Stacy broke into a grin. “Stacy B-L-U-N-K. But pronounced like the white wine. If we’re setting up a shot, I’ll interview him.”
“Wait in the truck,” Gavin said.
“Look, Gavin, I neeeeeeed to leave.” Stacy stomped her foot, but her heel got stuck in the snow mound. As she yanked it out, she flailed her arms to keep from falling. “How long is this bullshit going to take? There are issues on the Hill that require my attention.”
“I thought you said you covered the White House,” Crockett said. “That’s not Capitol Hill.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Whatever.”
Crockett glanced at Alexandra, who’d pinched her lips together. He needed to get to the office, but maybe he could buy himself a few points by taking the whiner off her hands so she could work. “I’ll drop you off.”
Grinning, Stacy grabbed his arm. “Ooh, you’re made of steel. Are you Superman?”
He ignored her fawning and wrapped his hand around Alexandra’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
She eyed Stacy’s vise grip before shooting him a little smile. “I’ll be by.”
The sparkle in her eyes lit his insides on fire. So beautiful. “Have fun in your Hunters, GG.” My Goth Girl. He hadn’t called her that nickname in years, but damn it felt right. Like a secret handshake.
Alexandra made his day when she mouthed, “Thank you.”
He tossed Gavin a nod and set off toward his truck with a very chatty Stacy B-L-U-N-K in tow. Stacy clambered into the truck and draped her white parka over her lap. His car wasn’t that warm. Her two-sizes-too-small sweater clung to her oversized breasts like a second skin.
“How do you know Alexandra?” she asked as he drove out of the neighborhood.
“Miss Reed was interviewing me for a story before she got called to Arlington Hill.”
“I’ve only been at the station for a few months, but I’m already trending,” Stacy said. “People are starting to notice me.” She pulled the giant clip from her hair and red waves tumbled down her shoulders. “We should go out for drinks sometime.”
“I’m seeing someone.”
“If things don’t work out—and I only mention that because I personally like leaving my options open—call, anytime. It’s a good policy. Don’t you agree?”
No, I don’t. Crockett cracked his window to get a breath of fresh air.
She touched his arm. “I’m on every social media site, so it’s super easy to find me. B-L-U-N-K.”
Crockett drove over the 14th Street Bridge and into DC. “How’d you get the White House gig? Isn’t that earned through experience and seniority?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“If you mean, ‘Are you capable of keeping a secret,’ then the answer is yes.”
Giggling, she tossed her hair off her sweater. “Max, the station director, has taken me under his wing.”
Crockett squeezed the steering wheel. His sister was God knows where. Alexandra was interviewing some seven year old about a snow day and this chick with no solid broadcasting experience was spending her days at the White House. Life is effin’ unfair. “Hope that works out for you.”
“I’m not worried. Max has assigned Alexandra to be my mentor.”
Oh, Jesus, that’s gotta suck for Alex. “You’re lucky. She’s an Emmy-winning journalist.”
She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Whatever that is.”
“Seriously? Google it. You do know what Google is, right?”
Stacy laughed. “Of course I do, dummy!”
He pulled up as close to the White House as security would allow. Which meant she’d have to walk a couple of blocks. He threw the truck into park.
“Can you get any closer? I’m in heels.”
“Not unless I want to get shot.”
Her ear-piercing squeal sent a shiver down his spine.
“Your accent is super sexy. Where are you from?”
“Texas.”
“Where do you work?”
“Wilde Innovations.”
Her mouth fell open. “No shit.”
“And I need to get there.”
“Oh, right. What do you do at Wilde?”
“Innovate.”
On a snort, she opened the door. “See ya, Tex. Thanks for the ride.” She slammed his door, turned and slipped, crashing flat on her ass on a mound of snow.
She doesn’t know my name but she’s ready to sleep with me. Shaking his head, he pulled into traffic and headed back toward Virginia.
Later that afternoon, Crockett pushed out of the chair in his Think Tank and scraped his fingers down his whiskered cheeks. His six-person innovation team had reconfigured the specs around their night vision goggles, but they couldn’t come to a consensus on the rework.
He drew an arrow on the white board. “Ergonomically, this is the stronger choice, but the cost of this one”—he starred a different configuration—“aligns with our budget.”
“We hear you,” Decker said. “But the less expensive one has a wonkier plastic.”
“The first prototype gets my vote,” said the lone female on the team. “We can’t sell the less expensive one with a note that says, ‘fragile’.”
“We’ve reached an impasse,” said another. “I don’t think either of these will work.”
Crockett studied the calculations that covered every inch of the white board. “We’ve got to go back to the basics. What have we overlooked?” A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. “Come in.”
Ellen poked her head in and eyed Crockett. “Before I head out for the evening, I need to speak with you.”
“Make a run for it,” Decker said.
Laughter lightened the intense mood.
Crockett glanced at the time on his tablet. It was after five. “We’ll finish this tomorrow,” he said to his team. “Thanks for your efforts.”
Talking amongst themselves, the group filed out, and Ellen squeezed into the room.
Decker rose. “I’ll re-analyze the plastics formula after a caffeine hit.”
“Alexandra has been waiting for a while,” Ellen said.
“Show her to my office, please.”
“Yes, sir.” But his assistant didn’t budge.
“Everything okay?” Crockett asked.
“No.” She shut the door. “I just got off the phone with Charles Bowen.”
Decker smiled. “We love Charlie.”
“And fortunately for us the feeling is mutual,” Ellen said.
Charles Bowen was the Under Secretary for Science and Technology at the Department of Homeland Security. Not only had DHS been one of Wilde’s first Spy Fly customers, Bowen had personally spread the word within the agency. In total, DHS owned over two thousand unmanned aerial vehicles manufactured by Wilde Innovations.
Crockett felt another headache coming on. “What did he say, Ellen?”
“He’s had some device failures,” she said.
“Some?” Decker scraped his fingers over his forehead.
“He said you can call him on his cell tonight until ten.”
“I’ll call him now,” Crockett said. “Please let Alexandra know I’ll be another ten minutes. Thank you, Ellen.”
With a tight nod, his efficient assistant buzzed out.
“Let’s get this over with,” Crockett said. “Shut the door.” Crockett dialed and put his phone on speaker.
“Hey, Crockett, I had a feeling you’d be calling me right back,” Charlie said.
“Absolutely,” Crockett replied. “I’ve got you on speaker. Decker’s with me. What’s going on?”
“Of the twenty-five hundred birds we’ve shipped so far, we’ve had one other recent report. My team is troubleshooting it. Getting yours back will accelerate our efforts. I’m sorry for the impact this is having on your operations. We’ll get it squared away ASAP.”
“Secret Service had a problem with three Spy Flies,” Charlie said. “I don’t have details yet but thought you’d want to know. We rely on your devices, so let’s get this resolved.”
“Thanks for the call, Charlie. I’ll be in touch.” Crockett ended the call. “What a fucking nightmare.”
“This can’t be a coincidence,” Decker said.
“We’ll have to delay certain product shipments until we isolate the problem. This could cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars in lost revenues.” He slammed his fist on the table. “Goddammit this pisses me off.”
Decker rose. “This time I’ll oversee QA’s analysis.”
“Keep me updated,” Crockett said. “Switching topics, I want to show Alexandra our Spy Flies.”
From the doorway, Decker spun on his heels. “Seriously? That project is Eyes Only.”
“I trust her.” Crockett pushed out of the chair.
Decker’s frown was a clear sign he did not approve. “You sure about this?”
Hitching an eyebrow, Crockett said nothing.
“Fine,” said Decker. “Give me ten to ready the lab for an intruder—I meant, outsider.”
Decker’s pushback didn’t surprise Crockett. He trusted the media less than Crockett did. But he believed she wouldn’t exploit him for professional gain. He was sharing this information with Alex, not Alexandra Reed the journalist, and he’d make that clear before he showed her the tiny drones.
As Crockett strode down the hallway, he forced Charlie’s disturbing news to the back of his mind. Alexandra deserved his full attention.