A thought hits me. I dial Jessica. “Can I get Seth’s phone number?”
“Seth again? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” I repeat, removing my phone from my waistband. “And I’m in a hurry. Senior wants tea, and considering Derek just barged into his office after he told me to get rid of him, I want to be back here when whatever is happening in there is over.”
“How very Derek of Derek. It’s not even like it’s unexpected. It’s just him, but I get it. Senior will blame you for the way he made his son. Here’s Seth’s number. Are you ready?”
I pull up a new contact on my phone. “Ready.” She gives me the number and I key it into my contacts. “Thanks.”
“Emily—”
“Mother Jessica. It’s nothing. I promise.”
She sighs. “Fine. How about bringing me a coffee so I have an excuse to nag you again?”
“What do you want?”
“Vanilla latte, nonfat.”
“You got it.”
We end the call, and I head through the lobby, and make my way to the elevator. Once inside, I dial Seth, not even sure he’ll answer, but he does.
“Emily. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” I say, “and I hope you don’t mind Jessica giving me your number.”
“I should have given it to you myself. Did you get that call we talked about?”
“Yes, I did and—”
“I’ll be there in ten to fifteen minutes. I’ll find you.”
“Yes, I—” He ends the call and I murmur, “I just want to know about the security guard,” to the empty space, sticking my phone back in my waistband.
That man is not full of charm, but I’m not easily ruffled and he’s smart and hard in ways I can see work for the role he has by Shane’s side. Which is what, exactly? Head of security? More like the ultimate fixer of all things broken? Yes. He’s the fixer, all right. The man who seals the cracks that might appear in Shane’s armor, while Shane himself fights to hold together the pieces of a family too broken to mend. It’s a problem I understand all too well, and unbidden, my eyes shut, and I flash back to my stepfather lying in a puddle of his own blood, my brother standing in the kitchen covered in that same blood, and my brother’s words play in my head: What the fuck are you doing here?
The car jolts and I inhale with my return to the present, but this time it’s not fear that I feel over the blood and death. My brother had been angry. I’ve remembered that often, but never until now do I remember it being at me. I exit the elevator with the sense that there was more to that night than I have wanted to face, but I can’t think about this now.
Shoving aside thoughts of a night that has forever changed my life, I cross the lobby and enter the coffee shop, relieved when a college-age kid is behind the counter instead of the chatty owner, which will allow me more time for Seth before I have to head back upstairs. I place the order for Brandon Senior and Jessica, and make my way to the end of the bar to wait for the order, my mind taunting me with my brother’s words again. What the fuck are you doing here? And this time I dare to ask the question I’ve suppressed all this time. Was my stepfather’s death self-defense, or a planned murder?
The drinks appear and I’m reaching for them when suddenly Shane is standing in front of me, lifting one of them to his lips, that spicy male scent of him suddenly enveloping me, and driving away everything but him.
“Wait,” I say as he lifts the cup and then pulls a face that only he could make strikingly sexy.
“What the hell did I just drink?”
I laugh, amazed at how easily the rest of my worries have faded. “That was your father’s tea.”
He reaches for the other coffee, and takes a sip. “Now what did I just drink?” he asks, setting the cup down.
“Jessica’s coffee.”
He laughs, one of those deep, sexy laughs of his that ignites a fire in me and yet somehow soothes all the jagged pieces of my soul these past few years have created. “Not what I had in mind,” he says, leaning in close to me, his shoulder pressed to mine, his hand settling on my hip. “I was expecting a little taste of you,” he murmurs, his breath a warm fan on my neck. “I have a proposition for you tonight.”
He has officially and easily seduced me, and for just a moment or two or three, all my worries fade from black to a cool rosy hue. “Why not now?” I ask, and even to my own ears, my voice has a raspy, affected quality.
He inches back to look at me, those gray eyes of his aglow with flecks of warm amber. “Now sounds really damn good, sweetheart, but I prefer our private conversations to be without an audience.”
“Is something wrong with the drinks?” the girl behind the counter asks.
Shane strokes a lock of hair behind my ear, seeming to resist the interruption. “Tonight,” he says softly, releasing me to turn to the counter. “The drinks are fine,” he replies, and with the absence of his touch, just that easily, too easily, my mind begins to race with random thoughts. My brother’s call. The security guard. The Geminis. His father’s meeting. Shane turns back to me. “I reordered the drinks and had them made extra hot.” His eyes narrow on me and suddenly, his hands are on my waist, and he’s backing me up, stopping only when I’m against a wall, behind a big corner display. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” I say, “but I’ve been waiting to see you in person to tell you that my brother called.”
His fingers flex at my waist. “When?”
“A few hours ago, but—”
“Why didn’t you call me and tell me you needed to see me?” he demands, his voice low but fierce.
“It was uneventful and I knew you had things going on.”
“If you have something big happen, you call me. Screw everything else. This could be about your safety.”
“It’s not. Not this time.”
Seth appears by our side. “Okay. What did I miss?”
Shane releases me, his brows furrowed. “What did I miss? Why are you here?”
“Emily called me and Jessica told me where to find her.”
Shane hones in on me. “I thought you said your brother’s call wasn’t urgent?”
“I didn’t call Seth about my brother.”
“What about your brother?” Seth demands.
Testosterone suffocates me. “You two are making me claustrophobic. From the beginning: My brother called and we spoke for all of about three minutes. I told him I was leaving for New Mexico and he didn’t even ask how I was going to get there. I brought up money, and he all but hung up on me.”
“Nothing else?” Seth asks.
“He said he’s been MIA because he took a job outside the country in Cooper’s place, but made it look like Cooper took it himself.”
“Cooper is your stepfather,” Shane verifies.
“Yes,” I confirm. “And he made it look like Cooper disappeared while doing the job.”
“The good news here,” Seth says, “is this plan of his seems smart and it won’t connect you to any of this.”
“Right,” I say. “Yes. I hadn’t thought of that.”
Seth gives me a probing look. “You don’t sound relieved.”
“The only way I’ll be relieved is to find out they’re looking for me and I can’t be found. Something we can’t test until they actually put me on their radar.”
“This plan of your brother’s bought us time to seal any leaks leading to you,” Shane states, giving me some positive to hang on to. “This is good news.”
Seth doesn’t give me time to revel in Shane’s welcomed reminder, getting right back to business. “Did you turn the phone off and remove the battery like I told you?”
“The minute I hung up,” I confirm, removing the two pieces from my waistband, and he quickly takes them from me.
“And you called me why?” he asks, sticking to his direct way of communication I’m getting used to with this man.
“I remembered something that happened the night
I was here alone making copies of Brandon Senior’s files. It’s probably nothing, but a man claiming to be a guard checked on me.”
“What man?” Shane asks.
“He wasn’t wearing a uniform and he gave me a weird vibe. On my way out that night, I checked with the desk downstairs and they didn’t know who I was talking about. Same story today. No one with the building security knows who he is. I assume he’s one of Seth’s men, but I just wanted to confirm.”
“What was his name?” Seth asks.
“Randy.”
“Are you sure that’s his name?” Shane presses.
“Yes,” I confirm. “I repeated it to him. It was Randy. Maybe it was a nickname?”
“What did he look like?” Seth asks.
“Tall with dark hair, early forties, I think, and muscular.”
“What nationality?” Shane asks.
I consider a moment, thinking back. “I don’t know, but he might have had a slight accent.”
Neither Shane nor Seth look at each other, nor do their expressions change, but there is a subtle thickening in the air that tells me this news does not please them. “Emily and I need to talk,” Shane says to Seth.
Seth gives a quick nod, and walks away, while Shane leans forward, one hand pressed to the wall just above my head, his big body a barricade creating our little private spot. “What’s the real reason you didn’t call me?”
I am momentarily stunned. “What?”
“You are savvy enough to give me a coded message by phone or text, and I know you know that I would want to hear this news. Why didn’t you do one of those things?”
“I needed some time to convince myself not to cry over a brother who doesn’t deserve my tears and had I heard your voice, I would have.”
Understanding fills his eyes. “The anger comes next, and long after, acceptance.”
“Are you at acceptance?”
“Every time I think I am, I get angry again.”
“Maybe they aren’t exclusive.”
“Maybe they aren’t, but anger is dangerous. Something perhaps my brother—and yours—needs to remember.” Shadows flicker in his eyes and are gone before they’re fully realized, but I still recognize them. I know them as ghosts of what once was, turned to monsters. “Call me next time. Give me the peace of mind to know you’re out of imminent danger.”
“Yes. I will. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He runs a finger down my cheek. “Be safe. Come on.” He pushes off the wall. “Let’s head upstairs.”
I nod and we walk to the counter where he hands me his father’s drink and he takes Jessica’s, then we start a silent walk through the building lobby, his shadows, and perhaps mine as well, still between us. We’ve just reached the elevator and stepped inside when he turns to face me, breaking the silence. “My father will either cancel that meeting or miraculously move it to another location.”
“But he had me order food and supplies.”
“Because he’s a master game player. He would never dangle something in my face he didn’t want me to know about. He’s too smart for that. He was either testing you or taunting me, looking for a reaction I’m not giving him.”
Looking for a reaction. “He got one from your brother. Just before I came downstairs, Derek showed up at my desk and demanded to see your father, who proceeded to tell me to get rid of him.”
Shane’s lips quirk. “And Derek stormed into my father’s office.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Like I said. My father is a master game player and my brother is far more predictable than he knows.”
“I guess that’s a good thing for you.”
“It’s sure to be a bad thing.”
“Who was that this morning, Shane?”
“Someone who doesn’t believe in keeping business in the office,” he says. “But it gave me an excuse to spend the morning studying a certain folder filled with paperwork.”
“And?”
“And it was interesting reading. I’ll tell you about it tonight.” The elevator opens and we step into the hallway, walking toward the door and entering the lobby, where we pause. “I may have to leave for a meeting but I’ll be back to pick you up.” He softens his voice. “We leave together. Okay?”
“Yes,” I say and his eyes linger on mine a moment before he walks away, but I don’t move. I stare after him, and while the idea of leaving with him is a good one, I can’t get past the idea that he’s acting as my bodyguard, any more than I can the tension in the air when I’d told him and Seth about Randy.
Inhaling, I focus on the receptionist, who is looking at me like I’ve just grown two heads. No. She’s looking at me like I just had sex with Shane in the lobby. Straightening my spine, I ignore her and start down the hallway, and I have this strong sense that nothing about my past, or my present, is exactly how it seems.
SHANE
I leave Emily in the lobby of Brandon Enterprises, my stride long as I travel the hallway, tension radiating down my spine with the implications of the unknown security guard whose presence holds dangerous implications. And my mood is too damn dark to find Derek at the end of my path, propped in his doorway, looking ready for a confrontation. At this very moment, I have a very uncharacteristic urge to beat his fucking face in. I pass him by, cutting left toward my office, but he isn’t going to take a hint.
“Shane,” he says, willing me to turn, but now is not the time. I do not have all my ammunition in place, nor do I have the temperament nor the patience to play the manipulation game, that beating him requires in any form that is not literal. I keep moving, setting Jessica’s coffee on her desk without looking at her before entering my office, shutting the door behind me, and crossing to my window where I press my fist against the surface.
I inhale a breath of uncommon rage, which I managed to contain on the elevator ride up, but anger is a beast inside me, created by the beast that is my brother’s greed. The intercom buzzes, and Jessica says, “Seth.”
“Send him in,” I reply, and almost instantly the door opens behind me.
Pushing off the glass, I turn to find Seth already joining me and shutting the door behind him. I walk forward and press my fist against my desk this time. Seth stops directly in front of me.
“Yes,” he says, as if I’ve asked a question, “I’m thinking what you’re thinking. It’s one of Martina’s men.”
“On our secure floor, which means we have yet another hacker, or my brother let him in here.”
“That would be correct.”
“Do you and your team have a plan to convince Adrian Martina to get the fuck out of my company?”
“We have ideas we aren’t ready to present yet.”
“Get ready and then come back.”
His jaw tenses but he says nothing more before he leaves. I turn back to the window, staring out at the city without really seeing it, Jessica’s words once again in my mind: Don’t let your family hurt her. I won’t let them hurt her. I turn to my desk and grab the back of my chair. I can’t wait on someone else to fix this. I won’t wait on someone else to fix this and if someone’s going to get hurt before this is over, it won’t be Emily.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EMILY
Come three thirty, I’m in the conference room on the opposite side of our offices, preparing for the meeting that seems to still be happening. The food, a selection of cookies and pastries, has been delivered and is displayed at the end of the long glossy table, large enough for twelve, and I’ve set up the information packets at seven different locations. Everything is ready to go, and I’m about to head to the lobby to check on our guests when Brandon Senior appears in the doorway. I’m struck immediately by how his custom black suit, once exquisitely tailored, hangs on his thinning body, while his yellow tie appears rather enormous.
“There’s been a change of plans, Ms. Stevens. One of the key players can’t come here. I’m meeting him and the others at an off-site location.”
/> I almost laugh at the insanity of this moment. The master player isn’t such a master if Shane can predict his actions this closely.
“Understood,” I say. “Do you need the handouts?”
“I do,” he says, “and I need you to walk with me to the car. I have a document I’d like you to give Shane that I forgot to bring up this morning. I assume you’ll be seeing him?”
I’m reminded that our living circumstances haven’t been disclosed, but more so, I am aware that he is digging into how close I am to Shane. “I can have Jessica ensure he gets it.”
His lips quirk ever so slightly. “Of course. Jessica.”
“Let me grab your materials,” I say, hurrying to the table and quickly gathering up the bound documents and placing them inside the canvas bag the copy center had used to deliver them. “I’m ready.”
He gives me a nod and we head to the elevator, where I’m nervous about the conversation we might have once inside. Fortunately for me, several staff members join us, and I am saved from whatever he’s intended to chat with me about. Not that “chat” is a word I typically use in conjunction with my boss. Another bit of luck, and it doesn’t take long before we’re on the executive floor of the parking garage and he’s popped the trunk of a shiny black Rolls-Royce.
“Beautiful car,” I comment, placing the bag inside, discreetly aware that Shane’s Bentley is missing.
“I’ve had it parked in my garage for a while,” he says, opening the back door and then shutting it, returning with an envelope in his hand. “But you only live once, I hear.”
The joke amuses him, stirring a chuckle that turns into a cough he can’t seem to beat, one or two hacks turning into an eruption. “Door,” he says, pointing, and I open the driver’s side for him, allowing him to sit, while he begins to cough up blood, which he blots with tissues he grabs from his pocket.
I kneel beside him, spying glimpses of Shane in him even now, and it hurts my heart. He’s a part of Shane, a deep part of his soul, no matter how dark that stain might be. “Mr. Brandon. What can I do?”
“Stop looking at me like I’m helpless,” he snaps, scowling at me as he straightens and seems to gain more control. “See that Shane gets that document,” he says, handing me the folder, before he rotates to sit fully behind the wheel of the car and I have to scramble to get up before he slams the door shut.
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