Chapter 19
When Libby woke she could hear the tropical birds, the crashing waves, and the gusting wind, but she couldn’t hear James. She couldn’t feel his body against her either. Cracking her eyes open, she quickly searched the tiny bungalow for any sign of him. A note fluttered up and down on the pillow next to her, trying hard to get out from the seashell it had been pinned under.
Libby,
Sorry to dart out. Things worked out with the bioengineer. I’m meeting with him now. You should head home. There is a flight at eleven ready for you. I won’t be far behind. – James
A thunder of boulders fell from the sky and crushed her chest. He was gone. He was sending her home. Whatever he’d said last night had been washed away by clearer judgment, and now he knew better than to forgive her. The wind whipped the paper in her hand, and she saw more writing on the back.
Stop worrying. I promise everything will work out. Have a good breakfast and another swim, and I’ll see you back in the States. This is still something.
A smile broke reluctantly across her face. He’d read her mind, understood her worry before she’d even known it was coming. When her phone rang she jumped, and her heart thudded, hoping desperately that it was James calling. They’d laugh about the note, he’d update her on his meeting, and maybe even catch the flight back with her. Her screen read Jessica and her anxious heart sank again. For a moment she considered letting it go to voicemail. But her friend had taken the admiral role of caring for Libby’s mother while she was away, and that meant she deserved her call to be answered.
“Hello,” she said with a worried tone.
“Hey, how’s paradise?” Jessica sang out, and Libby instantly felt better by the lightness of her question. If anything had happened to her mother, Jessica would have blurted that out.
“Oh, it’s great,” Libby choked out as she sat up in the bed and looked around the bungalow one more time, hoping James might magically appear.
“That didn’t sound very convincing.” Leave it to her best friend to be able to see the cracks in her wall when no one else could.
“It was an eventful night,” Libby admitted with a sigh as she felt the threat of prickly tears climbing up her face. “I told him the truth.”
“What truth?” Jessica asked, and Libby could imagine her sitting up straighter and clutching the phone even tighter.
“I told him about my father, the agreement, and the lies.” She nibbled nervously at her lip awaiting Jessica’s reaction. It was as dramatic as she imagined.
“You what? Why would you do that?” Her voice was sharp and scolding. “You could have just walked away, slipped away, and not worried about this blowing up.”
“Things between us,” she stuttered. “There are things between us.”
“If I wasn’t so glad you got laid, I might actually remind you how I told you not to sleep with him. But I’ve got to be honest, for a man like that, you break the rules. Damn. Was it good?”
“No,” Libby said feeling heat roll from her toes to the hair on the back of her neck. “Good would be the understatement of the century. It was miraculous. Life-altering. Soul-awakening.”
“I’m actually happy for you. You do so much for everyone else. This will probably complicate the hell out of everything, but you only live once. You might as well get your kicks in.”
“But it’s more than sex. I care about him. He, I mean, I think he cares a lot about me too.”
“But when you told him,” Jessica cut in, “he must have lost it. You said he was struggling to protect the company and move it forward. This will set him back. It could derail his plans completely. He must have blown up. Are you okay?”
“He didn’t lose it,” Libby hurried out, still sounding like that fact surprised her. “He took it very well. Actually he was completely fine with it.”
“What do you mean completely fine with it?” The skepticism in Jessica’s voice rattled Libby’s already uncertain thoughts. His reaction didn’t sit well with her either, but hearing her friend questioning it made it all the worse.
“He just said not to worry about it. That no matter what, he’d make sure I was taken care of, and it wouldn’t change anything between us.” Libby picked nervously at the silky sheets and flopped back against the plush pillows. This place felt like heaven—luxuries she never experienced in her life—but without James it was hollow and her senses were dulled to it.
“Why would he take this so well? That means . . .” she trailed off and Libby wanted to beg her to shut up. Jessica was clever and insightful. Where most people closed their eyes to the truth, Jessica could usually work it out if she gave it enough thought. But her friend was also kind and handled Libby’s heart more delicately than anyone else ever had. Even when it meant biting her tongue and holding back on the answer right in front of them.
“What?” Libby asked, torn between wanting to know and not.
“I don’t know really, but does it feel right to you? You know him better; what do you think it means?”
Libby blurted out the first thing that came to her mind before she could filter how she felt about it. “He had to have known about the lies and back-door deals, so he wasn’t surprised by the revelation. Maybe he didn’t know I was a part of it, but there is no way he’d be so calm with such big news. Jessica, what if he more than just knew about it; what if he covered it up or planned some of it?”
“Wow,” Jessica chirped softly. “That’s a big deal. You have to find out for sure. I know you care about him; I can tell by the way you’re talking. That’s even more reason to find the truth. Did he tell you what he was going to do with the information?”
“He didn’t say,” Libby answered, her voice cracking. “He just told me everything would be all right. Not to worry.”
“Where is he now?” Jessica asked as though the realization had just struck her.
“James was gone when I woke up,” Libby admitted and considered making excuses for him but knew it would be wasted on someone as perceptive as Jessica “He said I should take a flight he set up back home, and he wouldn’t be far behind.”
“Libby,” Jessica said sympathetically, “no one wants this to work out more than I do. You deserve a great man and a solid relationship. I’m not saying he’s not trustworthy; I’m not in a position to make that call. All I’m saying is you don’t have to blindly trust him. You deserve answers. You’ve lost a lot to West Oil. If James does care about you, he’ll understand why you are pushing to know more.”
“And if I can’t trust him why should I believe whatever answers he gives me? There’s a flaw in your theory.” Libby felt incredibly alone, very far from home, and completely uncertain about herself and her recent choices.
“I’m not suggesting you ask him. Find another way.”
“Like what?” Libby asked, now genuinely hoping Jessica would have a solution to what felt like a suffocating problem.
“The guy who set this whole thing up. The second in command of the company back when your mom made this deal. What was his name?”
“Arthur Wallace,” Libby said, the name planted in her head like a dormant seed that wouldn’t grow nor die.
“What if you find him? Ask him if James knew anything about this stuff. You’ll get your answer. You’ll know if all along James has been as bad as his father.”
“Do you really think James is using me or that he was involved in any of this?” Her body was prickly with anger. Why did people have to be so calculated, strategic to the point that no one else mattered?
“I think from what you told me he has a lot to lose if this company fails. It’s the most important thing in the world to him. I’m not sure his feelings for you could have eclipsed that. I don’t want you to go up against a man like James West, Jr. without doing everything you can to protect yourself. I hope you find out he was completely ignorant to all of this, and his kind reaction was because he cares about you.”
Just twelve hours earlier she’d
thought of James as her protector, not someone she needed protection from. But his reaction had surprised her. His absence this morning had unsettled her. Pulling her knees to her chest she tried to make herself as small as possible, hoping maybe she could just evaporate out of this moment. “I’ll try to find out where Mr. Wallace is now.”
“He’s on the board of a company that makes parts for oil rigs. I just searched him on my computer. He’ll be at an event to raise money for disabled veterans tomorrow night. Come home and I’ll go with you.”
“Where? To the event?” Libby asked with a breathy disbelieving laugh.
“Yes.” Jessica’s tone was flat and serious. “Don’t you want to know for sure?”
“I do,” Libby said but it came out as more of a question than an answer.
“Come home then. Your mother is missing you anyway. It’ll be good for her to see you.”
“She’s asking for me?” Libby sang hopefully. She’d never left her mother for this long before, and she hadn’t been sure if the dementia would keep her from noticing her absence.
“Every day,” Jessica replied gently, sounding happy to be talking about something more positive. “She loves you. I know there isn’t much gratitude in the work you do for her, she doesn’t always remember to be grateful for your sacrifices. But trust me, talking to her this week, she is.”
“Thank you Jessica,” Libby said, a flood of silent tears racing toward her chin. “I know being the voice of reason doesn’t come with much gratitude either. Telling people what they need to hear, rather than what they want to hear, is a thankless job. But you’re right. If I don’t find out for sure whether or not James had any idea this stuff was going on, I’ll never be able to let it go. I’ll always wonder.”
Chapter 20
“Stop hiding,” Jessica chastised as she bumped her shoulder into Libby’s back. She’d love to argue that she wasn’t hiding, but that would be lie. Since stepping into the large, dimly lit dining hall, Libby had ducked behind any pillar or large floral arrangement she could find. “Just find him already and ask him.”
“I can’t just walk up to a man who likely doesn’t remember me and start interrogating him about something he probably doesn’t want to talk about. We should have made a better plan than this. Let’s just go.” Libby spun on her heels but Jessica blocked her.
“Truth serum? A lie detector test? You don’t have any other options. Find him. Get a minute with him and just ask him what you came here to ask.”
Libby rolled her eyes and scanned the room, knowing her friend was right. It was time to bite the bullet and get some answers to the questions gnawing at her. “There,” she said, pointing at a man in the corner of the banquet hall who was chatting with a few men in military uniforms. She recognized his drastic comb-over, his wispy gray hair clinging to his shiny scalp. As she moved closer the rest of his familiar features came into sight. Eyelids with too much skin, drooping with age. An upturned nose and a crooked smile made him look more like a cartoon villain than a person.
“He’s a nasty looking dude,” Jessica whispered as she tugged Libby toward the corner where Mr. Wallace was standing.
“Slow down,” Libby begged, but Jessica plowed forward.
“Excuse me,” she said before Libby could implore her to shut up. “Are you Mr. Wallace?”
“Um,” the man answered to the rude interruption. “Can I help you with something?”
“Could you two help me elbow my way to the bar while Mr. Wallace and my dear friend here have a moment to talk?” Without waiting for an answer, Jessica looped an arm around each of the men and began leading them away.
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Wallace asked, furrowing his bushy brows. “Do I know you?”
“We’ve met,” Libby began, but her voice was so quiet Mr. Wallace had to lean in to hear her better. “I said we’ve met. Five years ago. Do you remember me?”
All the blood drained from his already pasty face, and Libby watched him riffle through his memories at a frantic pace. “Are you . . . um . . . no, I don’t recognize you.”
She realized in an instant, as Mr. Wallace looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was within ear shot, that he was ready to run. Maybe walking up to a man and asking a vague question about whether or not your face held a place in his memory was more accusatory than she meant it to be.
“No, of course not,” she said apologetically. “My name is Liberty Saint-Jane. We met five years ago in your office at West Oil.”
Mr. Wallace still looked like he had a torrid affair with her and she was there to expose him. “Is there a purpose to your rude interruption?” he asked finally, straightening his back.
“I’m sorry,” she said, always taking note now of how often she uttered those words. “My father worked for your company. He died while on a rig for West Oil.”
“It’s not my company. It never was. I just worked there.” He continued to make sure the perimeter around them was not infiltrated by anyone who might overhear.
“Do you remember me now?” she asked, her eyes going wide with hope. Hope that there wasn’t a parade of people in his office whose fathers had been killed. That she wasn’t just one of many.
“I do,” he said, analyzing her face more closely. “But I have nothing to talk to you about. You signed a very clear non-disclosure agreement which stated there could be no more discussion on the topic or you’d forfeit your arrangement, whatever the arrangement was. I don’t recall the terms of yours.”
“There were more people you made agreements with?” she asked, raising a brow at him.
“What do you want?” he asked slowly through tight lips.
“I just have a question,” she said, fiddling nervously with the acrylic nails Jessica had applied earlier that afternoon. “It’s about James West, Jr.”
“You are on thin ice here, my dear,” Mr. Wallace groaned as he leaned in. “I’m not confirming or denying anything. I want no part of whatever scheme you have with James Jr.”
“There’s no scheme,” she pleaded, touching the sleeve of his expensive jacket. If she ever needed to flash her doe eyes, now was the time. “Please. I don’t intend to cause any problems with anyone. This is personal. I just need to know if James was involved. Did he know about these arrangements?”
“Why?” he asked, pulling his arm free of her touch. “Why would that matter?”
“It matters to me,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer for a long moment, but when his face softened she hoped there was some level of understanding. “Of course he was aware,” Mr. Wallace sighed. “It was his idea actually. The company was suffering from multiple problems, and he swore he’d be the one to fix it. That was his solution. I believe it’s why his father sent him away. I believe it’s why many people walked away when he was given the CEO position. We were well aware of his history of doing whatever needed to be done to get his way.”
“But you kept doing this, years later,” Libby argued with a shake of her head. “This went on after his father sent him away.”
“He’d gotten us in too deep. The arrangements with government officials were something we couldn’t navigate out of without causing huge problems. They’d gotten a taste for the payoffs and weren’t going to let them go. It’s complicated but, trust me, this is his mess, he just didn’t clean it up before he left.”
She dropped her eyes to the ground and tried to keep her head from spinning. James had known all along. Why had he assigned her to look into the issue? “He asked me to find out why the numbers on the reports seemed off. Why would he do that if he already knew the answer?”
Mr. Wallace laughed humorlessly. “He’s still playing that old trick is he? James loves to start with the lowest common denominator to ferret out liability.”
“What?” she asked, feeling like he was suddenly speaking a different language.
“I mean, he likes to put the least qualified person on a task like that to see how easy it is to figure ou
t from the outside. He moves his way up the chain eventually to see at what point an issue might be discovered by someone looking for it.”
“Lowest common denominator?” she parroted back, feeling a dagger to her heart. “He thought I was too stupid to figure it out? That’s why he asked me to look into it?”
“I’m sorry to say, yes. That’s how he is. The day he left West Oil, people celebrated. His tactics were despicable. I have my entire retirement and future invested with West Oil. But it wasn’t worth staying on under his leadership.”
“I can’t believe . . .” she trailed off, raising her hand to her forehead.
“Whatever dealings you have with him,” he started clearing his throat awkwardly as though he knew their involvement was deeper than just employee/employer, “cut it off now. Save yourself the trouble.”
She nodded her head but didn’t answer. As though he’d just thought of it, he said again in a hurried voice, “You don’t intend to go public with what you know, do you?”
“No,” she said quickly, already knowing the answer. “I’m not going to say anything.”
“Good,” he said, patting her shoulder gently. “There is no winner on that path. He’ll destroy you, and I’d hate to see that happen.”
“Thank you,” she croaked out as she backed away slowly, bumping into a cloth-covered table and rattling the many glasses spread across it. She scanned the room looking for Jessica, feeling the urge to grab the hem of her skirt, pull it up off the ground, and run as though the clock had just struck midnight and the magic was over.
“Did you ask him?” Jessica questioned, catching her elbow and spinning Libby around.
“Yes,” she said, blinking away the tears that were gathering. “You were right.”
“I wasn’t trying to be right, Lib,” Jessica said gently. “This isn’t how I was hoping it turned out. But it’s better to know, right?”
The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1 Page 14
