Her Loving Hero

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  “He’s downstairs. There’s a big meeting going on. Chris is recording it on his phone.”

  Holy fuck.

  “Tell him to stop. He’ll get caught.” She grinned and moved even closer.

  “He won’t get caught. Chris is really smart. He’s going to nail those bastards.”

  He stared at the pretty young girl incredulously. He was dealing with a bunny surrounded by wolves. Enough was enough. Kane was right. He tipped her half full tray of cheese filled blintzes and wooden spoons of beluga caviar and upended it onto her chest, watching it as all the food dripped down her front. In seconds a seasoned waiter was in front of them.

  “Is this the kind of waitress you have working here?” Wyatt demanded. “She almost spilled this all over me.” His voice was filled with disgust.

  “But. But.” She stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

  “Get rid of her. She has no place at this party or on this yacht.” Wyatt’s voice rang with authority and the senior waiter’s expression turned grim.

  “Come with me,” he said in Arabic as he grabbed Petra or Mercedes arm. “You’re fired. I’m walking you off the yacht right now.”

  She shot Wyatt a hate-filled glance.

  Good, one less innocent to worry about. Now to find Carly.

  8

  Emily was going to wear a hole in Wyatt’s rug. She stepped off of it, and started walking on the pine floor instead, but then the sound of her shoes tapping on the wood seemed to blast like gunshots in her head, so she moved back to the rug.

  It was eleven in the morning, which meant it was ten p.m. Saturday night in Muscat, the party should be in full swing. She tried to imagine what was going on, but all she could see were people arresting Carly and her friends. It felt like her head was filling with air. She was having trouble breathing.

  “Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.”

  She paced faster.

  She stopped abruptly and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please, God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

  She pressed her palms against her face and looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

  “Okay, time for serenity,” she laughed softly. “But God, you better give me something to do, and fast, because I’m not going to live my life on the edges.”

  Emily felt a great deal better as she sat down on Wyatt’s too comfortable sofa and scooched to the edge so she could lean into the coffee table and look at her laptop. Wyatt had shown her his office and had said she could set up her laptop there. He’d even adjusted his work chair so it was at the perfect height and comfort level for her, but it kind of creeped her out to have to go into a room that he actually kept locked.

  So once again, she checked out the Oman chat room and found nothing new. Then she checked out her e-mail. Bingo! It was Anthony. He explained he’d been at his cousin’s wedding in Ireland. She kept reading through all the family and friends updates, before he finally answered her question about the fires in Dahlkut. She rubbed her hands together. Now she was getting somewhere.

  Anthony said that he had a friend who was an official in the Sultanate of Oman who was involved in investigating not just the fires but something else. He told her to check her phone messages. How could she have missed something from Anthony, considering she’d been holding her phone all day? She scrolled through her messages, and there it was. It even had a Shh emoji to indicate it was confidential. She would bet anything Anthony had been drinking when he’d sent it. She was supposed to call him.

  “I’m whispering, is this good enough for you? Tag you’re it,” she said on his voicemail.

  She disconnected her phone and looked back at her computer. When a loud knock on the door sounded, she almost jumped off the couch. Her first instinct was to ignore it. Obviously, they wanted Wyatt and he wasn’t here, so why should she answer the door?

  She sat there like a frozen deer in the middle of the road.

  “Get over yourself, Hoag,” she bit out the words between clenched teeth. Her hands were fisted by her sides as she marched over to the door and placed her palms flat on the door so she could peer through the peephole. Two policemen were standing outside. She flinched as the door reverberated against her palms as one of them knocked again.

  She looked at the door and made sure the chain was in place. Swallowing, she carefully opened the door.

  “Hello?” she asked and found herself looking into the compassionate eyes of a policewoman.

  “We’re looking for Wyatt Leeds. Is he here?”

  “No, he’s not,” Emily answered softly. Then she asked in a stronger voice. “Can I help you? I’m housesitting for him.”

  “Ma’am, do you know where he is? His brother has been in a motorcycle accident, and he had Wyatt’s information showing as his brother and emergency contact.”

  Brother?

  “He’s overseas. Is his brother okay?”

  “We can’t get into that with you. Here’s my card. Have him call me when he returns.” The woman slipped her card through the narrow opening. Emily took it. They turned to leave.

  “Wait a minute. If you’re not available, can I tell Wyatt what hospital he’s at?”

  “Ben’s at Loma Linda,” she said succinctly. Then proceeded down the two steps with her partner behind her.

  Emily fumbled with the chain and flung open the door. “Wait a minute, how bad is he?”

  “Ma’am, we can’t get into that. Just give Wyatt my card. It would be best if you could call him and have him come home soon.” The woman gave Emily an apologetic smile, as if to say she wished she could say more, but she couldn’t.

  Wyatt had a brother?

  In all the time she’d known him, she hadn’t heard a peep about siblings. Considering how often she’d talked about Kristi and Carly, you would have thought he could have mentioned his family. Emily stepped back inside and slammed the door shut, locking it behind her. She rushed over to her phone and called Wyatt. Another voicemail. She hesitated, what was she going to say? He was in the middle of an assignment. She didn’t even know what kind of shape his brother was in.

  Nope, she wasn’t going to leave a message about this. She’d wait until he called her. She hung up the phone. But still, she couldn’t stand the thought of Wyatt’s brother at the hospital all alone. At least she thought he was, if he was asking for Wyatt. She had to get to him.

  How?

  She panned around the room, her eyes landing on the computer. She could go to Loma Linda hospital, and ask about Ben Leeds, but would they let her see him? Her stomach turned to bat wings, no butterflies for this girl. She tried not to gag as she forced herself to think of something she could do. Of someone who could help. She thought back to a conversation she’d had with Wyatt when he’d shown her around his townhome.

  “Emily, are you listening?” She remembered Wyatt teasing her before he left. It was when she’d been rocking back and forth in his cool office chair.

  “I always listen to you,” she’d purred. It had made him burst into laughter.

  She loved that she could flirt now.

  “This is serious Em.” He’d held up a cheap cell phone. It had seemed so incongruent amongst all the expensive computer equipment. “This is a burner phone that you can use. It has all of the Black Dawn team members logged in. Dex is number one, my lieutenant is number two, then my second in command is number three.”

  “Shouldn’t he be number two?” she’d teased. But she’d been leaning forward, staring intently at the phone so Wyatt had known she’d been listening.

  “You have the makings of an A-1 smartass.” He put the phone back in the drawer after explaining who everyone was on the Black Dawn SEAL team. “Normally Dex would be your go-to guy, but he just had a baby girl, so if something goes wrong ping my lieutenant. I trust Gray Tyler with my life.”

  Emily had shivered. She remembered all of those men from when they
had rescued her in Saudi Arabia. Especially Aiden O’Malley, the second in command. He was the team medic. He had been in the back of the truck as they drove from Saudi to Bahrain, taking care of her the entire way. Emily knew without a doubt they were trustworthy. They were honorable. It was just that they clawed up memories buried so deep that she had hoped never to see them again. That meant the men and the memories. Wyatt was different, he hadn’t been on that mission, he’d been liaising from the U.S., she’d only heard his voice. Somehow that made it easier.

  “Emily, are you okay?” Wyatt had asked.

  She smiled. “Of course, I am. I’ll call them if I need them,” she assured Wyatt.

  So now Emily found herself fishing in her purse for the keys to the back bedroom that contained Wyatt’s secret lair of computer equipment. She turned on the light and sat down at the desk. When she pulled out the burner phone, she dialed two and hoped Gray Tyler wouldn’t answer.

  “This is Tyler,” a low voice growled.

  Wyatt sent a quick text to Kane, letting him know that one of the twins was off the boat, then started moving starboard. Wyatt got closer to Carly and was amazed with what he saw. The dress might be too tight to be Emily, but she’d done her hair and make-up so that she was almost a mirror image of her older sister.

  He walked up to where she was smiling demurely between an overweight Caucasian and three Middle Easterners. Everybody’s attention was squarely on her. Wyatt knew he couldn’t very well push his way into the conversation, so he looked around and saw that the same couple who had weirdly flirted with him were standing close by. He sidled up to the two of them.

  “I never did get your name,” Wyatt said, giving his best smile to the wife. “I hate not being on a first name basis with a beautiful lady.”

  He watched as the woman preened.

  “Helene,” she cooed as she took her time kissing him on both cheeks in the European style. He took a step backwards, and the couple moved closer to him. It put him nearer to Carly’s group.

  “I realize you’re in risk management. I assume that means you try to contain risks, but does that mean you don’t like taking risks yourself?” she asked in a husky voice. The woman made his skin crawl.

  “I’ve been known to take a couple of risks, now and then. Especially when pleasure is involved,” Wyatt answered.

  “My wife likes her pleasure,” George said.

  Where’s a barf bag when you need one?

  “The minister is saying that for the right kinds of incentives, they would be interested in having you join our company’s board of directors.” He overheard Carly say in English to the heavyset white man.

  “What’s in it for me. How would I make money being on the board? I need assurances that my company would be able to do business in Oman. A lot of business. So far, Oman has only brought in UAE excavators, despite the fact that my company has a proven track record in the US and all through Latin and South America. And tell this Yemini guy that his country is too volatile, we don’t want to do business with them, only be nice when you say it, okay Darlin’?”

  Carly translated in a very diplomatic manner, but the three Middle Easterners clearly understood what the American had said, her translation was for show. They were talking amongst themselves, and they were not impressed with the American. Wyatt saw that his two companions were listening just as intently as he was. It seemed everyone but the rude American could speak Arabic.

  “How long have you lived in Oman?” he asked the couple.

  “Oh, we live in Dubai,” Helene said. “So much more hospitable.” This time instead of playing with her necklace, she touched her flashy bracelet.

  Was he supposed to be impressed?

  “A position on the board of directors is very prestigious. You would be the only American ever afforded such an opportunity. To decline such an offer would be seen as a sign of disrespect.” Carly said smoothly.

  “But what’s in it for me?” the American asked loudly. “I need some guarantees that my company will make money.”

  Wyatt looked over his shoulder at Carly. She was clearly in over her head. Emily would be able to smooth things out in an instant. These clients expected her to not just act as an interpreter, but to advise the dumbass, and it was beyond an eighteen-year-old girl’s capabilities.

  “Mr. Weatherly,” Carly started.

  Wyatt turned and smiled at the group. “Did I hear your name is Weatherly? Are you with the American excavation company?” Wyatt cut in.

  “Who are you? This is a private conversation,” Weatherly said rudely. The three men that Carly was interpreting for looked at Wyatt curiously.

  “My name is Scott Lyle, I work for Forrester Consulting. The owner of my company was hoping you might be here, Mr. Weatherly. He’s heard a lot of good things about your company,” Wyatt lied.

  Wyatt prayed that this Forrester company was as big a name as Kane had said it was.

  “Forrester?” One of the men beside Carly asked. “We’ve heard of Forrester. We did not know that anybody from your organization would be here,” he said in perfect English. Weatherly did a double take.

  “My boss, Duke Forrester is downstairs. If you want, we can all go downstairs and meet with him.”

  “No need, I’ll send one of my men to bring him upstairs. Downstairs there is live music,” the same man said with distaste. “It is difficult to talk.” He looked over at George and Helene. “Let us go over to the seating area at the bow of the boat. Over there, we’ll be able to talk privately.”

  “Who’s this?” Wyatt nodded toward Carly.

  “Miss Hoag is the daughter of the Oman American Ambassador. She has kindly agreed to act as our translator for the evening.”

  “Is she really necessary?” Wyatt asked.

  Carly’s eyes widened, then narrowed as she looked at him. She even had Emily’s pissed off expression.

  “In case there are nuances in the conversation that get away from us, I find it is best to always have an interpreter on hand. By the way, my name is Faheem Shanfari, and this is my brother Amer. I would also like to introduce you to our esteemed business partner from Yemen, Faisal Harthy.”

  Wyatt followed him as they moved to the front of the mega-yacht. He saw how the people who had been sitting in the chairs and couches were quickly ushered out, and the coffee tables were swept clean. By the time they got there it was as if it had been always waiting just for them.

  “And what is it you do here?” Wyatt asked Faheem as they all sat down.

  “Our conglomerate is looking to overcome the tensions in Yemen and ensure that the oil production continues. PFG is the only company that has continued to show rising profits through Yemen’s problems. It is due to strong leadership, and we hope to align ourselves with some Western companies.”

  “I’m the top off their list to do business with,” Weatherly boasted.

  “You were,” Kane said as he appeared beside Wyatt. The two Omani gentleman and one Yemeni stood back up and smiled. Introductions were once again made and Kane handed his business card out to everyone while Weatherly looked ready to pop.

  “What do you mean, ‘were’?” Weatherly demanded. “I’m the best bet for these bastards. Who the hell are you coming in on a private conversation waving your dick around?”

  Wyatt saw Carly’s eyes go wide as saucers.

  “There’s no need for that type of language,” Amer said with distaste.

  “I want to know what the hell he’s talking about,” Weatherly sputtered. “You just walked up and broke into our conversation. You don’t know what we’re talking about.”

  “You said that you’re at the top of the list for PFG to do business with. Forrester represents many American companies that would like to do business with PFG, so expect some competition,” Kane said easily.

  Shit, Kane was good at this, and he sure as hell knew how to turn this asshole’s crank.

  “Of course, I’ve heard of Forrester, but I haven’t heard of you D
uke,” Faheem said as he examined the card that Kane had given him.

  “I have so many cousins, it’s tough to keep track. Last I remember, Gramps made me Vice President I think.”

  Everybody but Weatherly laughed at Kane’s joke.

  Wyatt interjected, “I told Bob Weatherly here, that we were interested in doing some business with him.”

  Kane shrugged. “Maybe. We need to get to know one another better.” He looked around the seating area. “Are you gentlemen drinking?” The three Middle Easterners shook their heads.

  “I am,” Bob said. Wyatt nodded.

  Kane lifted his hand. “There was a server I told to set aside some oysters. I’m from Virginia, and these were out of this world.”

  Wyatt watched as Chris Lancaster and the other Lancaster girl began to serve hors d’oeurves, sparkling water and drinks to everyone.

  When everyone had a glass, Kane raised his. “A toast,” he said.

  “What are we toasting?” Amer asked.

  “I know that your company was a major force behind the successful trading going on between Oman and the United Arab Emirates. It shook international financial news when the UAE overtook Taiwan as number four in trade with Oman.”

  The Shanfari brothers nodded modestly, however you could see Harthy was not happy. Yemen wanted Oman to throw its weight in with them, and they weren’t happy the more that Oman sided with UAE and Saudi Arabia.

  Wyatt watched out of the corner of his eye as one of the Lancaster girls left to go get more sauce for the oysters. Chris stayed. He moved closer to the Omani brothers.

  Shit, was he still trying to record them with his phone?

  Loud voices were heard in English and Arabic at the dock. They all turned to look, but they couldn’t see over the rail. Somebody was demanding to be let aboard the yacht.

  Amer chuckled. “This should be interesting,” in Arabic. “Occasionally somebody will attempt to bypass security, it will be taken care of.”

  “Actually, I can’t believe somebody made it this far if they weren’t invited,” his brother said.