He scrolled to the pictures first. The island looked incredible but a security nightmare. Situated in the middle of the water, there was no way to safeguard the perimeter. He scanned the report. As he feared, there were gaps in protection, including few outdoor security cameras. He closed the message, planning on reading it in depth tomorrow.
It was another hour and forty-five minutes before everyone moved to the ballroom where tables had been set up for dinner. Brooklyn motioned for him. When he walked to her, it felt natural to lean down and taste her. When she hummed against his lips, it was all he could do to refrain from dragging her behind a potted palm and kissing her senseless.
They were seated at a round table with Ginny and two couples. He soon learned that one woman was the head of Flawless Face, the cosmetics company responsible for supplying makeup for the show. They were also awarding the winner a contract and sponsoring the gala on Thursday evening. The man who owned an exclusive jewelry store providing the winner with a cash prize and his wife were the other guests.
Waitstaff flitted around the room, filling glasses and placing salads on the tables. Though he accepted the wine, he wouldn’t take more than a sip or two. He was technically on the job.
He took pleasure between courses when Brooklyn would slide her hand in his beneath the table. The move wasn’t for the benefit of anyone watching. He wondered if his touch calmed her as much as hers did him.
The evening passed, and he was surprised to realize he’d enjoyed himself. Henry Watson, the man who owned the diamond store, had also been in the military, and they swapped war stories. Before he knew it, it was time to go home. Gage glanced at his watch. It was later than he thought. Several people stopped Brooklyn to talk until they were the last ones to leave the banquet hall.
They finally made it to the elevator. Brooklyn removed her heels, making her several inches shorter. She leaned against him as the elevator ascended to the penthouse.
“I’m glad that’s over,” she sighed. “My feet are killing me.”
He glanced at the torture devices she called shoes. “How do you wear those?”
She held them up by the straps and studied them. “You learn to ignore the pain. I haven’t felt my toes in years.”
“That’s awful.”
“The price women pay for high fashion.”
He held the door for her when they arrived on the floor. She slid the key in the lock, and the sight of New York in all its lighted glory hit him when he entered. “This place is incredible.”
“It is,” she agreed. “Sadly, I take it for granted.” She smiled up at him as they stepped into the interior lift for the ride to their bedrooms. “Thanks for everything you’ve done. If you hadn’t come through with Jade, Harlow, Cassidy, and even Layla, I’m not sure I’d have been able to pull this off.”
“I know you could.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe, but thankfully I won’t have to find out.”
She stared at him with those bewitching eyes, and all he wanted to do was sweep her off her feet and carry her inside her bedroom. Instead, he said, “Goodnight, Brooklyn.”
Stepping away from temptation, he turned to his room and disappeared inside. If he’d chanced a look back at her, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to resist.
Chapter Six
Gage woke early and headed downstairs to the exercise room. It included a selection of cardio equipment and a few free weights, but they were all in the two-to-ten-pound range. He chuckled. He’d have to make do with the treadmill and chin-up bar.
After he’d worked up a sweat, he returned to his room to shower. By the time he finished, he had thought Brooklyn and Ginny were still sleeping until he spotted a note propped on the kitchen bar.
I’ll be in my office. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, or you can press one five on the phone and order room service from the restaurant in the lobby. I’ll see you soon. ~ B.
She was an early riser, too. Grabbing his laptop case, he swung the strap over his arm and headed out. He’d spotted a bakery down the block yesterday that served smoothies. Gage ordered two Green Blends that included banana, kiwi, unsweetened almond milk, spinach, coconut water, and a scoop of vanilla whey protein. He also picked up a selection of healthy muffins.
A woman was sitting at the receptionist’s desk when he entered Brooklyn’s office. She smiled brightly. “Welcome to Brooklyn Fontana Designs. My name is Tonya. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Tonya. I’m here for Brooklyn.”
She glanced down at the calendar on her desk. “Is she expecting you?”
“Yeah. I’m her boyfriend.”
Her head popped up. “Oh, I’m so sorry. She told me you were coming. I can take you to her office.”
“No need. I know the way.”
Brooklyn’s door was open when he approached. He stuck his head inside and found her on the phone. She looked up, and the smile she flashed his way sucker-punched him. She motioned him in. He deposited the box of muffins on her desk and placed one of the Green Blends in front of her, hoping she liked the smoothie.
Her eyes lit up as if he’d gifted her with jewelry. “My favorite,” she mouthed before taking a sip of the creamy liquid.
She disconnected. “Thank you. I love these.” She eyed the box. “Muffins?”
“Help yourself.”
She selected a cranberry orange while he opted for a blueberry oat. He sat down across from her desk to eat.
“The network honchos are ecstatic that Jade, Layla, Cassidy, and Harlow have agreed to take part. They want to know how I managed to get them to agree on late notice. They think I’m a magician or something, and my stock has gone way up. I can’t thank you enough.”
He waved a hand. “You don’t need to. I’m glad I could help. What’s on the schedule for today?”
“I need to talk to the segment producers to let them know there’s been a change. And I want to get contracts to the four women. There are all kinds of last-minute details to take care of—assuming there are no other surprises. The contestants arrive this afternoon. I’ll greet them at their hotel tonight and say a few words to congratulate them for being selected.”
He finished his smoothie. She held out her hand for the empty container and deposited it in a trash can beside the desk.
“I’m going to do background checks on Carol Graves, Joanna Greer, and Ruth Long, as well as your half-siblings. Have you thought of anyone else who would benefit from harming you or the show?”
“I mean, supermodels have enemies, mostly other models who haven’t reached their level of success. But as far as someone hating me enough to destroy my dreams? I can’t think of anyone.”
His pool of potential perps just grew exponentially if he had to factor in all the models who hadn’t reached her level of achievement since she was at the top. “Who had access to the schedule of the show, including the guests like Mindy Robbins and the others?”
She blew out a breath, ruffling the hair around her face. “A bunch of people. I can’t even give you a number. Besides the people involved with the show and the network, we’ve run promos heavily on social media.”
That just added another few million suspects. He’d just concentrate on the names she’d given him and the people closest to her to start.
He hated to bring up the next question, but he didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. “What about your assistant, Stella?”
She glanced at him with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think she could be involved with the sabotage? She would have access to the information.” Sometimes it was the people closest who caused the most harm.
Her denial was instant. “No, absolutely not.” She straightened. “Why? Do you think she’s involved?”
“Everyone is a suspect until they aren’t,” he replied.
“Fair point,” she ceded. “But I think you’re going in the wrong direction speculating about her. She’s been my rock throughout
the process of getting the show and clothing line off the ground. I couldn’t have done it without her.”
“Okay.” He’d tell her the words she needed to hear while secretly digging into Stella’s background. There was no need to upset Brooklyn or have her question her employee’s loyalty if she was innocent.
There were about one hundred people involved with the show's production, though not all would be on site. Brooklyn was credited as the executive producer and creator. The next person in charge was Clark Hardy. He was the one ultimately responsible for running the show. Gage would familiarize himself with Clark’s background, too.
He soon discovered the list of show personnel was overwhelming. There were two supervising producers, two producers, five associate producers, four segment producers, a photo shoot producer. It was hard to tell the chain of command. In addition, there were production managers, assistants and coordinators, executive assistants, technical engineers and their assistants, consultants, wardrobe stylists and their assistants, camera operators, lighting designers, key grips, jib operators, gaffers, electricians, hairstylists, and makeup artists. In other words, a ton of possible suspects. Off-site, there were sound mixers, a casting department, an editorial department, location scouts, a music department, an art department, and visual effects artists. There was no way he could vet all of them.
Gage assumed the network would conduct background checks on employees, so he’d have someone at the office obtain copies of their files. It would save him a lot of time.
He set up a workspace at the conference table across the room from Brooklyn’s desk. He started with Abilene and Austin Fontana. Their mother raised them in an upper-class neighborhood, and from what he could tell, they’d lived a normal childhood. Both were average students. Abilene was a member of the drama and theater clubs in high school, while Austin played trumpet in the marching band. They both attended the University of Houston. Austin graduated with a bachelor’s degree in computer science, while Abilene’s degree was liberal studies. He made some calls and discovered that neither one was in Texas right now. He couldn’t find their names on any passenger manifests, so their current whereabouts were unknown.
The morning and early afternoon passed quickly. People were in and out of Brooklyn’s office constantly, and her phone was practically glued to her ear. She ordered sandwiches from a deli, and they talked while they ate.
She constantly surprised him with her knowledge and intellect. She wasn’t just a pretty face. They had many common interests, and conversing with her was easy. She was one of the brightest people he’d ever met. He had a feeling he’d never tire of talking to her.
Her phone dinged constantly, but she ignored it while they finished eating.
Ginny breezed inside, all smiles. “That didn’t take long.”
Brooklyn took a drink of water and asked, “What didn’t take long?”
Ginny whipped her phone out, punched some buttons, and presented it to them with a flourish. It was a close-up picture from the meeting last night of the two of them. The smiles looked as if they’d just shared a secret, and they gazed at each other as if smitten. Damn. It wasn’t an act—at least on his part. He didn’t even realize a photographer had been in the room.
Ginny turned the phone back around and read the caption. “Who’s the handsome hunk making bedroom eyes with the one-name supermodel, Brooklyn? This reporter doesn’t know, but have no fear, faithful readers, I’ll ferret out the information forthwith. It sure looks like a love match.”
Brooklyn raised a brow at him. Sexy. “You wanted to get the word out.”
“Yeah.” And so it began—his downfall from elite solider to tabloid fodder.
“I have a meeting,” Ginny said over her shoulder as she left the room. “I just had to show you the picture.”
“Is this going to cause problems for you?” He wondered if she’d even been asked about her feelings of a faux romance.
“You mean pretending to date?”
“Yeah, when there will be a breakup. I’ll go home, but you’ll be left dealing with the aftermath.” He hadn’t thought about that when his bosses suggested the ruse, but now that he’d been introduced to her world, he could see how uncomfortable it would be for her.
She waved a hand as she stood. “I’m used to it.”
Well, hell, he didn’t like the sound of that. How many men had there been? And why did he suddenly hate the faceless males so much?
“I’ve dealt with the media since I was a teenager,” she continued. “If I give them a little, it’s usually enough until the next big story breaks, and I’m forgotten.”
She might believe that, but he’d certainly never forget her when this was over.
She gathered her trash while he did the same. They’d been having a pleasant lunch. He hated for the real world to intrude.
After using Brooklyn’s private bathroom, he washed his hands and started out when a commotion had him moving back inside to hide and observe. A man and woman breezed inside like they owned the place.
“Hello, sister.”
Brooklyn frowned. “What are you two doing here?”
Now he knew why he couldn’t track down Austin and Abilene Middlebrooks Fontana, the infamous twin half-siblings. They were already in New York.
Abilene wandered around, looking at the furnishings while Austin plopped down in a chair in front of Brooklyn’s desk and crossed his legs. “We came to look things over.”
“I’m extremely busy and don’t have time to show you around, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“We aren’t going until we get what is rightfully ours,” Abilene snapped. “Fontana Enterprises.”
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God. I’m not having this conversation with you again. The business has been sold. It’s a done deal. The lawyers have said so, as well as the courts. I’ve tried to be nice to you, but that hasn’t worked. Now kindly leave the premises before I call security and have you escorted out.”
“You can’t kick us out of our building,” Austin argued. “It’s as much ours as it is yours.”
“And our lawyers are appealing,” Abilene insisted. “The business will be ours. We’ll own everything.”
Gage had heard enough. Brooklyn had plenty on her plate. She didn’t need to deal with the delusional twin terrors. He stepped out of the bathroom and stalked forward. Abilene whirled around and gasped.
“Who are you?”
“I’m the person escorting you out of this office.”
Austin’s features pinched. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try. Touch me, and I’ll sue your ass.”
“Quite litigious, aren’t you?”
Austin shot a perplexed look at Abilene. “Did he insult me?”
She shrugged a shoulder.
He glanced at Brooklyn to see her smothering a grin.
“Look, you can make this easy or hard. I couldn’t care less which, but you are leaving the building one way or another.”
Abilene stalked over to the other chair in front of Brooklyn’s desk and plopped down. “I’m not leaving.”
“I’m afraid you are.”
The twins’ heads spun around to see two uniformed security guards enter the office, followed by Tonya, the receptionist. She must’ve called them when the twins arrived.
“We’re not,” Abilene insisted. “Do you know who we are?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” one man said. “Let’s go.”
“Our name is on the building,” Austin argued. “We own it. You don’t want to mess with us. We’ll have your jobs.”
The other guard pulled a taser. “Come with us now, or we’ll put you in cuffs. NYPD is on the way. They’ll haul you to jail for trespassing and resisting arrest.”
Abilene shot to her feet. Gage did not like the unholy gleam in her eyes. “We’ll leave, but we’ll be back soon enough when this building is ours. Then we’ll be the ones kicking you out. Come on, Austin. Let’s pay a visit to the lawye
rs.”
“Gladly, sister.” Austin stood and marched after Abilene. Gage didn’t know how he could see with his nose so high in the air.
“We’ll escort them and make sure they leave the premises.”
“Thanks, Ed.”
Gage wasn’t surprised Brooklyn knew his name. She seemed to remember everyone, and she treated them the same, whether they were a designer, photographer, or janitor. It was easy to see how she’d earned her top spot on the list of the nicest celebrities.
“I’m sorry, Brooklyn,” Tonya fretted. “I only stepped away for a second.”
“That’s okay. I’m not sure you could’ve stopped them. They were pretty determined.”
“They shot to number one on my suspect list,” Gage muttered after Tonya returned to her desk.
“They’re annoying,” Brooklyn agreed, “but how could they have known details like the phone numbers of guests I’d booked?”
“They could’ve wheedled the information from one of the support staff, or Austin’s degree was in computers. Maybe he hacked your system.”
“They waited until our father passed away to come forward. They knew they didn’t have a leg to stand on.”
#
Though she should be tired, Brooklyn was wired with energy. She didn’t drink coffee, so her high was from adrenalin. Having her dreams come to fruition was euphoric. Her twin half-siblings’ untimely arrival put a slight damper on her feelings, but she ignored them. They had no claim, and even if they did, it was just money. She would’ve rather had her father’s affection over the years, but he’d proven to be aloof and uncaring. She learned to live with it, thanks to Ginny.
Ginny didn’t hesitate to step in when Brooklyn’s mother passed away in childbirth. She’d been a mere twenty-one with a tenuous relationship with their father, but she’d raised Brooklyn as her own. Ginny’s mother tried to talk her out of adopting Brooklyn. She still resented her ex-husband and didn’t want her daughter rearing his bastard baby. Charleston Fontana, or Charlie as he was known, had never married Brooklyn’s mother. Her mom was the reigning Ms. Sweden, and her father met her when he visited her country. He brought her back to the States, got her pregnant, and she died before they could marry.
Dressed to Kill (COBRA Securities Book 22) Page 6
