Facade

by Lexy Timms

  A five-number personal identification number.

  I typed in the numbers and the keypad lit up green. I heard Derek turn around before he came up to me, his hand reaching over my shoulder.

  “Wait a second. How did yo—?”

  “Shut. The fuck. Up,” I said.

  I turned the key to his house, quietly pushing in as I guided him behind me.

  Derek was following closely as I trained my gun in front of me. We slowly stepped into the darkened home, my ears trained on any sounds coming from the house. I knew someone was in here. I had heard them talking the moment we got up onto the porch.

  We had surprised someone, and I wasn’t ready to give up that advantage.

  “When you speak, whisper,” I said quietly. “Do you have any staff employed during the night?”

  “No,” Derek said.

  “No one? The waitstaff? An on-call chef or doctor? No one’s on the premise at night?”

  “No,” he said in a whisper. “No one.”

  Fuck. This house was huge. It was going to take me forever to clear it. Did he really need all this fucking space? What the hell did he fill these rooms with? More shit? It wasn’t like this man had a family. Or kids. Or a harem of women that took up the space.

  I kept walking through the foyer with Derek hot on my tail as I walked down the hallway.

  We cleared the kitchen and the expansive living space before I turned and walked back down the hallway. We made our way up the stairs, clearing each and every room we came to. I knew whoever was in this house wasn’t going to be found. There was too much fucking space and not enough time to discern where that fucker had been in the house.

  Derek was a rich little fuck with an ego the size of his fucking mansion.

  Every single room was empty. There wasn’t a sign of anyone being in the house. I was irritated, pissed to my core as we came to his room. I reached for the door and tossed it open, ready to second-guess my own damn motives for the sounds I’d heard coming from his home.

  Until I saw his bedroom window was open.

  “What the—?”

  I whipped around and put my finger to my lips, shushing him once again. Holy hell, I was going to have to stuff this man like a pig to get him to shut up. We stood in the middle of his room and listened as I gazed out through the open window. I could see Griggs’ men checking the perimeter, their massive bodies outlined in the floodlights that turned on with their movements.

  Something wasn’t right about any of this.

  “What’s that?” Derek asked.

  I turned around and followed his line of sight to a letter on his bed.

  “Don’t reach for it. I’ve got it,” I said.

  I lowered my weapon and approached the bed. I turned the letter over in my hands, making sure it wasn’t lined with anything dangerous. I sniffed it, taking in the odors the paper had on it before I cracked the wax seal on the letter.

  “That’s new,” Derek said.

  “What’s new?” I asked.

  “The wax seal. I’ve never seen that before.”

  I slid the letter out of the confines of the envelope, and we both read it over. I could feel Derek teetering next to me, and I dropped the letter to the bed. I steadied him with my hands, sitting him down as I tried to wrap my mind around everything.

  This man’s threat was serious. Even I was convinced of that now.

  “Give me that letter,” Derek said.

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” I said.

  “Give me the fucking letter, Sam.”

  I sighed and grabbed the piece of paper, handing it to him as his hands trembled.

  “Mr. Steele,

  If you haven’t taken me seriously up until this point, then maybe you will now. I know where you sleep, and I know how to get to you. Quit the company and donate your money, or the next love letter I write will be personally delivered in the form of a bullet.

  Yours Truly,

  Eye”

  “Eye?” I asked.

  “As in ‘eye in the sky,’ I believe, ” Derek said.

  “I’m staying with you tonight.”

  “Figured you would after all this.”

  I sat down beside a man who had aged ten years before my eyes. The confident man who had received that award tonight morphed into a tired corporate executive with bags underneath his eyes. His straight back faltered, and his strong shoulders drooped. He raked his hands through his hair, mussing up his neatly-placed locks as his suit shirt began to wrinkle.

  “Is there anywhere you can go? A place you can stay for a while? Even if it’s just a few days?” I asked.

  “And do what? Leave my company behind?” Derek asked.

  “Yes. It’s a great distraction. We can pretend to send you somewhere warm, and then divert you. No one except me will know where you are.”

  “Griggs will have to know.”

  “Mr. Steele, this person got into your home. Into your room. They have personal access to everything. No one is off the hook for this yet,” I said.

  “Griggs isn’t doing this. He wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t know th—”

  “It’s. Not. Griggs.”

  His eyes were angry, and I couldn’t blame him. But I couldn’t allow his anger to deter me from my work. This was getting serious, more serious than I could’ve imagined it would. This man was in real danger, and it was my job to protect him and fish this asshole out.

  At all costs.

  “This is getting out of control. Even if you don’t think Griggs is responsible, it’s still a good idea to get you out of here. I need more information, and all of this is already too close. Your security is ineffective, at best. And that is with me assuming they aren’t in on it.”

  I held up my hand as Derek went to defend his friend.

  “This person got into your room. Your security measures don’t work,” I said. “That’s a fact that has now been proven. Even with me here. I’ll hide you at my place if I have to, but you need to go somewhere.”

  “Say I agree to this plan. Where do we go from here?” Derek asked.

  “You go to wherever I’m going to hide you. What I will do is set my own team up around your company and your home. My team. Not yours. You don't touch them, know them, or connect with them in any way. We keep you as far away from them as possible. The more strings we can sever from you, the easier it will be to fish this asshole out.”

  “Okay. Then what?” Derek asked.

  “We can make it look like electrical work at your office and renovations here at your home. But in your office, cameras will be set up. Same with your home. You need stuff inside here. In intimate areas to catch whoever the hell this is. But we need to make it look like this is typical stuff going on. That’s how we catch whoever’s doing this.”

  “You're holding back. What is it?” he asked.

  “You’re not gonna like it.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “If anyone on your security team is in on this, even one of them, they’ll spoil this. They’ll stick their nose in what’s going on at your home, and it’ll all be blown to shreds. We need to fire your security team.”

  I saw anger pooling in his eyes, but I knew I was appealing to the rational part of him. I knew he would see it my way if I explained things to him and walked him through my train of thought instead of simply ordering him around. For a man who was being hunted, explanations were everything.

  Especially since he didn’t know why he was being hunted in the first place.

  “Okay. But I’m worried about this leaking out. You know, a disgruntled employee or something. Griggs and Deacon were the ones who enticed me to hire your company in the first place,” Derek said.

  “Then throw some money at them to shut them up. By the size of this place, you’ve got plenty of it,” I said.

  “Hush money usually works.”

  “Then use what you have at your disposal.”

  “Funny you should say that.�
�

  I groaned as my head fell back. I knew I was going to walk into a trap of his eventually.

  “I don’t run. I never have, and I never will. But I agree that I do need to get away. Sever ties from all of this. I have a business trip coming up that will take me to Las Vegas. I was going to take Jacob ... shit.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I have to call Jacob. I have to make sure he’s okay.”

  “Walk me through your plan, and then you’re free to go for your night. You know, as long as I’m around,” I said.

  “Business trip to Vegas. I was going to take Jacob, but I’ll take you as my girlfriend instead.”

  “Girlfriend?” I asked in fake shock. “Why not your PA?”

  “I might have told Jacob you were my girlfriend when he started picking apart our story about you being my new personal assistant.”

  “Well, if you’ve already told someone and laid the groundwork for it, we can’t really wiggle out of that.”

  “And we’ve got the kissing down if we need it,” he said.

  “Don’t worry. We won’t.”

  I got up from the bed as his eyes lingered on my body.

  “The trip to Vegas is approved, but I comb through everything. I’ll set up the stuff with your office and your home, but I dig into everyone you are to come into contact with. From the airline to the people working at the hotel we’ll be staying at.”

  “I have my own private jet with its own personal staff,” he said.

  “Figures. That’ll make my job easier. I want the staff logs.”

  “They’re vetted by—”

  “Let’s get one thing straight. If you don’t want to run, that’s your business. But I’m running this show. I’m saving your life. You give me what I want, and I have the tools to fix this shit. But if you don’t give me what I want, you end up dead. And that’s on you, not me. Hand over the logs so I can do my own research or bleed out. The choice is yours.”

  My eyes hooked with him as fear crossed his features. I wasn’t playing around with this asshole anymore. I was tired of doing this little dance. He either listened to me or he was dead. That much was certain by tonight. He was still trying to flex whatever muscle he had over me, and it wasn’t going to work.

  I wasn’t going to deal with it any longer.

  “I’ll get you their files,” Derek said.

  “Good. You’re dismissed for the night.”

  Chapter 7

  Derek

  I COULD TELL SAM WASN’T happy about pretending to be my girlfriend. Her quip about our kissing showed me that, but I didn’t see the big deal. She looked great in the dress and walked the part just fine. She could obviously do her job in her heels, so it wasn’t like she would be at a disadvantage. I’d wine and dine her. Treat her like I would all my other girlfriends. She was getting more money out of this deal than anyone else would have.

  What the hell was she so pissed about?

  “Are you really upset at playing my girlfriend?” I asked.

  “No, I’m upset you caved so easily to a little bit of digging from your friend.”

  “Who’s fine, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

  “He was undressing me with his eyes all night. I don’t care about him,” Sam said.

  “He was what?”

  “Oh, does it make you angry someone was staring at your fake girlfriend?”

  “It does if I’m supposed to pretend to be your lover.”

  “Boyfriend. Not lover. You’re really milking that kiss back there, which served its purpose, by the way.”

  “You’re going to try and convince me that pulling my body into yours, touching your soft lips to mine, and allowing me to push you into the door was all to get me to calm down?”

  “Better than you being drunk and me having to kick you down some stairs,” she said. “How do you even treat your girlfriends anyway? You buy them some jewelry, bring them back here for a half-decent night, then send them off with a kiss and a tap of the ass?”

  “Hardly. I relish them with attention, open their doors, pick them up for dates, pay for everything, and romance them before I take their body on every surface I can put them on.”

  “I wonder how that looks to your employees,” I said.

  “What I do with my personal life is none of my employees’ business.”

  “I meant more along the lines of us. We’ve already announced to people that I was your PA. Are we really flying with the fact that it was a cover because we didn’t want people to know we were dating? You’ve never been ashamed of who you date.”

  “And you know this from your research?” I asked.

  “From the pictures of you plastered all over the papers kissing random women every week, yes,” Sam said.

  “Admit it. You’re curious as to how I treat my girlfriends.”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “I know you are. All women are. And that soft little kiss in the closet? Very telling of your true nature in more intimate circumstances.”

  I could see her jaw clenching as she sat at my kitchen table, and I knew I had hit a nerve.

  “Maybe you are a pillow princess after all,” I said with a murmur.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “So. You’ve exposed this ‘lie’ to your COO. But what about everyone else? Even Miss Emma? She won’t be happy you lied to her.”

  “No, she probably won’t be. She’s jealous of you for some reason,” I said.

  “Because she had a crush on you.”

  “I’ve made it very clear to Miss Emma in the past that our relationship is professional.”

  “Doesn’t mean she dropped her fun little crush. It only means she’s keeping her hands to herself. But she’s very protective of you. It’s obvious she still harbors feelings. And me coming out as your girlfriend is going to stoke that fire.”

  “I can handle a twenty-eight-year-old with a crush. If that’s even where this jealousy’s coming from,” I said.

  “Idiot.”

  “Soft kisser.”

  “Seriously, get the hell off it.”

  “Then stop getting so pained over it,” I said with a grin. “Such a sore spot. Do you not like the fact that something is soft about you?”

  Sam fell silent, her eyes cast out the window toward the edge of my property. She slid her hands behind her back, grabbing them to keep their shaking at bay. It was interesting to see this side of her, this human side behind the maniacal robot with a mind that worked a lightning speed.

  “If Jacob isn’t coming on the trip, there’s no need for me to go as your girlfriend. I can still pull off being your PA until we get back. You’ve labeled me as an outside personal assistant, right?” Sam asked.

  “Technically, yes, but you were rattling off facts about my company at the venue. And I did tell the partygoers that you would be helping on projects,” I said.

  “We can get around that easier than the ‘PA to girlfriend’ thing. With me interacting in your personal world, I’m bound to pick up some things about your company. We’ll stick with the PA story for now.”

  “I really think—”

  “We’ll stick with the PA story,” she said.

  “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

  “The practical realities of a PA are as such. I can’t room with you as a PA, not even a personal one. So adjoining rooms will be necessary if I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

  “What about a suite with two rooms that close off?” I asked.

  “Adjoining. Rooms.”

  “Fine. Fuck. Man, you’re a hard-ass.”

  “And you’re just an ass. Deal with it. I’ll get you a list of things I’m going to need for this trip. I don’t care how you acquire them but have them on the plane and ready to go.”

  “Funny, this PA stuff comes pretty easy for you,” I said.

  “I’m still packing.”

  “Are you going to write me a list, email me a list
, or text me a list?” I asked.

  “Which one would you prefer?”

  “Already asking questions? You were really cut out for this lifestyle.”

  “My blade glides delicately across skin,” she said.

  “Write it down,” I said.

  “Fine. I’ll get the list to you in the morning.”

  “And I’ll get you what you need for the trip.”

  A knock came at the door, and I jumped. Though Sam didn’t look deterred at all. She got up from her chair and started for the front door, her dress billowing at her sides. She looked calm and put together as she reached for the door handle, and I shouted out at her to stop.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “Shouldn’t we, you know, check to see who it is or something?”

  “It’s John,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Okay. One, who’s John? And two, how do you know that without looking out the window?”

  “You weren’t the only one making phone calls when you slipped off to the bathroom, Mr. Steele. Tennyson is a bodyguard I work with regularly. The best there is. I trust him, so I put him on detail for the electrical crew for your company while we’re off in Vegas. And to answer your other question, I heard him coming up the steps.”

  “You just ... heard him,” I said.

  “He has a distinct walk.”

  She threw the door open, and a tall, dark man was standing on my porch. Sam’s face automatically brightened with a smile as she clapped this John guy on the back. Her attitude changed immediately, and her demeanor softened.

  Soft. Like that kiss in the closet.

  “John, this is Mr. Steele. Mr. Steele, meet John Tennyson.”

  “Hello, sir,” John said. “Nice to meet you.”

  I reached out and shook his hand, gripping it as tightly as he gripped mine. He was posturing, that much was for sure. But why? Did he have the hots for Sam? She sure as hell lit up in his presence with her small grin and her sparkling eyes. She opened her body up to him even as she closed herself off to me.