by Elise Noble
“Absolutely not. This time, I’d take responsibility for all the training, and then either you could work from home or we’d find you an office far, far away from Judd. We can’t keep losing assistants. It causes chaos with the admin.”
“I see. So I’d have to spend time with you to start with, and that was what you meant by talking more?”
“Yes, and we might have to travel. I’m not always based in the UK, and I’m still hunting for this damn painting. Would you be able to leave your horse for a while?”
“A short while. Pinkey takes excellent care of him.” Bethany chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “What about you, Alaric? Do you keep your clothes on around your colleagues?”
Was that a hint of disappointment in her voice?
“Business and pleasure are rarely a good mix.”
Alaric walked a fine line with Ravi. They had an agreement. Rules. One wobble with Bethany, and he’d lose his balance entirely.
“Oh. Tonight isn’t pleasure?”
“Tonight’s fun. Pleasure’s entirely different.”
Dammit, stop looking at her breasts.
“So it’s an either/or situation,” she murmured, so softly that Alaric barely heard her over the chatter from the table next to them. A bachelorette party, judging by the outfits and the number of empty wine glasses.
“I’ve been giving off the wrong signals, and for that, I apologise. I’m not in the market for a relationship or even a hook-up. And you…” He reached out and cupped her cheek. “Deserve a man who treats you like a queen. So the only thing on offer is a job, one I think you’d be good at. And the occasional bit of fun.”
Bethany turned away, trying to hide the way she wiped one eye as she did so. Alaric was in two minds whether to offer a handkerchief. The manners drilled into him dictated he should, but at the same time, he didn’t want to draw attention to her tears. Perhaps this was why he’d been attracted to Emmy? She didn’t cry. Although when she got pissed, she tended to head out the back of her house and unload her favourite Walther at one of the targets she had set up. Last time Alaric had been to Riverley, she’d pasted a photo of his former boss over the bullseye at the fifty-yard mark. There hadn’t been much left of the man by the end of the day.
Before Alaric made up his mind, Bethany pulled herself together with a smoothness that suggested she’d done it many times before. The perky smile, the way she folded her hands in her lap… Fake but polished.
“Can I take your order?” a waitress asked. Was there a special class waitstaff took to ensure they interrupted at precisely the wrong moment?
“Give us five minutes?”
“The kitchen’s about to close.”
Bethany’s expression didn’t change. “I’ll just have a margherita, thank you.”
“Pepperoni for me, plus a bottle of white.”
“Would you like any—”
“No.” Alaric forced himself to be polite. “No, thanks. Nothing else.”
The girl threw him a dirty look—so much for service with a smile—and flounced off.
Now, where were they?
“Could you tell me more about what the role would entail?” Bethany asked.
Great. She’d switched to job-interview mode. The perfect fucking candidate, emphasis on the perfect and the fucking. Or so Alaric imagined. Still, with no way he’d let himself find out for sure, he matched her smile with an equally phoney one of his own.
“The four of us are often difficult for clients to contact, partly because we travel a lot but mostly because when we’re working, we can’t stop to take phone calls. So you’d relay messages as and when our schedules allow. You’d also arrange transport and accommodation, plus carry out basic admin tasks—proofreading and formatting reports, printing and mailing hard-copy documents, and screening initial enquiries. And there would be an element of personal assistance—buying Rune’s birthday gifts, for example. Plus possibly feeding Judd’s cat and watering his plants while he’s away.”
“And the salary?”
“What were you on at the gallery?”
She named a figure so low it made Alaric wince.
“Hell, we were paying Barbara twice that, and you’d be worth the same.”
“You don’t even know if I can do the job yet.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve just spent most of the day with you, Bethany. You’ve got the right attributes, and anything else is just training.”
“And by attributes, you mean…?”
She glanced at her chest. Busted.
“I mean you have the right personality.”
“How much travel would be involved?”
“I’ll need to show you the ropes, which’ll take a few weeks, and depending on where the hunt for Emerald takes me, I could end up anywhere. Potentially, the others could help, but I don’t trust Judd not to eat you alive.”
A spark of jealousy flared in Alaric’s gut, and for the first time, he understood how Emmy’s husband had felt all those years ago. When he hadn’t taken Emmy for himself, but he hadn’t wanted anyone else to have her either. If only the current circumstances were different. If Sirius were five years older, if Alaric didn’t have an unstoppable compulsion to find Emerald, if he’d picked a place to settle and bought a house. But circumstances were what they were. Alaric had visited twenty-three countries in the last year, and the longest he’d spent in one place was three months. That had been Florida. He’d rented a villa so Rune could stay with him for Christmas, then got tangled up in Emmy’s latest mess—a sex trafficking ring masterminded by the Mafia’s favourite money launderer, both now thankfully defunct.
“So potentially a month or so of travel, and then I could work from London?” When Alaric nodded, Bethany continued, “And what does the company do? Sirius Consulting? That’s kind of vague.”
“Deliberately so. It’s a private intelligence agency. Basically, our clients pay us to find them information that might otherwise be difficult to obtain.”
“So you really are a private detective? Piers hired one to dig up dirt on me during our divorce, but there wasn’t any dirt to find. He seemed quite disappointed.”
“Yes and no. We cater to a different market—businesses, mainly. We advise on strategy if they want to enter new markets, analyse risks, and provide regulatory guidance. Plus we can assist with investigations—due diligence, fraud, asset tracing, and whistle-blower allegations.”
Translation: they evaluated whether corrupt officials or dodgy competitors were likely to sink a project before it got started, and if necessary, worked out which palms to grease. Plus they dug into all the sordid details of people’s lives and companies’ histories that they didn’t want to share, and sometimes, for variety, Sirius got to hunt down thieves.
In short, Judd and Alaric talked to people. A lot of people, many of whom would only deal face to face. Naz dug around electronically, and if they needed to get into somewhere tricky in the physical sense, that fell under Ravi’s remit.
Judd was the frontman. Former MI6, charismatic, and far too charming for his own good. Alaric, Naz, and Ravi worked in the shadows, and they made damn sure that when their activities crossed that blurry line between grey and black, they didn’t get caught.
“So you’re a corporate spy?” Bethany asked.
“‘Spy’ is such a dirty word, don’t you think? I’m a businessman.”
“Piers used to send me to the country club to gather information on his investments from the other wives. At first, it used to be quite fun, but when I realised what an arsehole he was, I might have fibbed a bit.”
“Insider trading?”
“Such a dirty phrase, don’t you think?” A sly little smile cracked her plastic expression. “I just liked to gossip.”
Be still his beating heart.
“About the job…?”
“I can start on Monday.”
CHAPTER 25 - BETHANY
EEK, THIS WAS worse than the first day of school. Back then, the worries
about which clique I’d join and whether or not I’d make the hockey team had seemed like the be-all and end-all. Funny how such things seemed so unimportant these days, wasn’t it?
I checked my watch again. Alaric should have arrived by now, but he’d called to say he was running a few minutes late. Climate change protesters had blocked the road with a giant plastic duck, apparently. I thought he was winding me up at first, but when I turned on the news, there it was. Eight feet tall, green, with half a dozen shaggy-haired youths superglued to each wing. Caring for the environment was important, but couldn’t they have picked a spot that didn’t inconvenience hundreds of ordinary Londoners just trying to go about their business?
Finally, the SUV pulled up on the double-yellow lines outside, and I grabbed my handbag and Rune’s presents. I’d gift-wrapped them myself after Alaric escorted me home. Even once he’d friend-zoned me, he was still chivalrous.
Ravi had clearly been to the same school of etiquette because he hopped out and opened the back door for me, and wow… He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Beautiful. Handsome didn’t do him justice. A couple of inches shorter than Alaric and a slighter build, but still muscular. His biceps strained his short sleeves as he reached to shake my hand, and his pecs were outlined clearly under his T-shirt. But his face… Delicate, fine features, with a perfectly straight nose and high cheekbones. The deep tan of his airbrushed skin suggested mixed heritage, and his black hair gleamed in the sunlight. But all that paled into insignificance beside his eyes. A vivid blue, they reminded me of the Maldivian sea. Several years ago, I’d spent two weeks sitting beside it alone while Piers golfed.
“You must be Bethany?”
“Bethany? Uh, yes. That’s right.” I gave myself a mental slap. “Bethany Stafford-Lyons. Pleased to meet you.”
“Ravi Wells. It’s a pleasure.”
I felt my cheeks flush on the last word, spoken in a smooth American accent, and my gaze cut to Alaric before I could stop it. Yes, he’d had the same thought. And dammit, I needed to learn some self-control. Thankfully, a taxi tooted behind us, and I leapt into the back seat as the driver made a rude gesture.
“Take it easy, buddy,” Alaric muttered as we pulled away. “You don’t own the street.”
“If you want to avoid the climate protesters, take the next left,” I said. “Inconsiderate fools.”
I caught Alaric’s smile in the rear-view mirror. “That’s exactly what they want you to think.”
“What do you mean?”
“That particular group’s funded by the automobile industry. By pissing everyone off, they turn climate change into a pesky annoyance rather than an important topic that should be on everyone’s agenda.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s our job.”
Wow. And I guessed now it was mine too.
If you’d asked me to picture Rune McLain before we arrived, I’d have imagined a tall, all-American cheerleader type with glossy hair and white teeth, confident and outgoing like her father. So the reality was somewhat of a surprise. Rune was tiny, a church mouse of a girl in leggings and a baggy sweater who hurried along beside Alaric, head down, then hugged Ravi fiercely when she got to the car. And she wasn’t all-American either. Her features tended towards Asian, but I couldn’t place her accent.
Alaric introduced us. “Rune, this is Bethany, Barbara’s replacement.”
To me, she said, “Hello,” then to Alaric, “Barbara quit?”
“Yesterday.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, and she made a soft choking noise. “Judd?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking.”
The exchange surprised me a little, that they were so open with Rune, especially given how hands-off Alaric appeared to be with regard to his daughter. Boarding school, a last-minute birthday gift… It reminded me of my own upbringing, except my parents left me to find out about the birds and the bees through trial and error. Mostly error, if I was honest.
“How’s school?” Ravi asked.
“Mostly good. Mock exams start next week. And I have to write an essay for the final of a biology contest.”
“Mostly good? What isn’t good?”
“Netball. I’m too short, and I can’t run fast enough.” She made a face. “I only get Cs for sport.”
But I bet she got As for every other subject. When the four of us stood outside the escape room an hour later, I didn’t miss her calculating expression. It matched Alaric’s, so it seemed they had one thing in common at least.
An employee approached, bouncing jauntily in neon trainers, the chains in his hands jangling. Wait…chains?
“I’m Keiran, and I’ll be your guide today. If you’ll just hold out your hands, I’ll join you together, and then we can get started.”
“Join us together? It didn’t say anything about that on the website.”
“All part of the fun,” he said, entirely too cheerfully. He’d already confiscated our phones and our watches, replacing them with a single electronic widget with a digital display on one side and a button on the other. Rune wore it on a lanyard around her neck.
Alaric grasped my hand in his and held it out, smirking. “You heard the man—it’s all part of the fun.”
I swallowed my groan, and it lay in my stomach like a rock. I’d hoped that in my new role as executive assistant I could manage to retain some iota of decorum, but it seemed that wasn’t going to be possible. This time last week, I’d been happily pouring drinks and showing pictures at the gallery, sworn off men for good, and now I was chained to not one but two hot guys, because Ravi was on the other side of me with Rune at the end. How did everything go so wrong?
“Everyone comfortable?” Keiran asked. Not even a little bit. “Then let’s get started. The year is 2025, and following World War Three, you’ve been kidnapped by mad scientist Igor Krankov to use in his experiments. An attack by rebels distracted him into leaving your cell door unlocked, and you’ve got one hour to escape from his lair before he returns. Are you ready?”
Refer to my previous answer.
“Aaaaaand go!”
Keiran stepped back, the door slammed behind him, and the wall in front of us slid to the side, revealing a set of thick iron bars. Our prison. Alaric squeezed my hand and took a step forward.
“Well, he said it was unlocked,” Rune reminded us.
The door was, but our chains weren’t. The good news was that the keys to the padlocks were most likely in the tiny chamber outside. And the bad news? There had to be at least two hundred keys hanging neatly on hooks on the wall. Were we expected to try all of them? Because that would take an hour on its own.
Alaric picked the nearest key off the board. “They don’t have any codes on them.”
“Are either of you girls wearing bobby pins?” Ravi asked. “Shame they’re not regular handcuffs, or we’d be out of them by now.”
Really? How?
Rune elbowed him. “No cheating. Is that other door locked?”
Alaric tried it. “Yup. There has to be some kind of clue…”
“But there isn’t,” I said. Why had I ever suggested this? “Just a hundred keys and a freaking light switch.”
Suddenly, Alaric smiled. “Turn the lights off.”
“Huh?”
“Just do it.”
Rune hit the switch, and what do you know? Five of the keys glowed, four green and one pink. Alaric snatched them off their hooks, and then Rune turned the lights back on and held up the lock securing her to Ravi. A quiet click, and she was free.
“Good thinking,” I said to Alaric.
“I remembered Emmy’s tattoo. She has a skull on her arm that only shows up under black light.”
A secret tattoo? How clever. That’s what I should have done. Instead, when my family had sold Polo out from underneath me, I’d got his name tattooed across my heart in black ink. Piers had gone bananas. He’d even got a therapist to come to the house while I still had my bad leg propped up
on the sofa, but thankfully, the woman had reassured me that my expression of grief was perfectly normal.
Alaric freed my hands, then rubbed a thumb over my wrist. “Okay?”
“We should open the door.”
Turned out the mad scientist wasn’t a bad housekeeper. His living room was quite tidy, albeit filled with a strange selection of objects. Including a mechanical parrot that greeted us with a squawk.
“Pieces of eight,” it screeched. “Pieces of eight.”
“Is there anything gold in here?” Alaric asked. “That could be a clue. Let’s take one side of the room each—say what you see.”
What I didn’t see was a door. How were we meant to get out?
“I’ve got a fireplace with a mirror over it and a painting either side. One’s a weird abstract thing, and the other’s a poor copy of the Mona Lisa.”
Alaric studied the bookshelf on an adjacent wall. “The guy has bizarre taste in reading material. Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and a Russian dictionary just in case he forgets any of the words. Science books, algebra, a zoology manual, and Fifty Shades of Grey. Someone must’ve put that here as a joke, surely?”
“Or an instruction manual,” Ravi muttered. “I’ve got six pairs of shoes next to the desk, parrot food in one of the drawers, a pair of glasses, a notepad, and a bunch of pens.”
“Anything on the notepad?”
“Not unless it’s written in invisible ink. The shoes have numbers on the bottoms—twenty-three, fourteen, fifty-seven, and so on, all two digits—but I have no idea what they mean.”
Rune held up a box. “There’s a jigsaw. Is that what the parrot meant? Pieces?”
“That’s a good possibility. How many pieces?”
She already had the lid off the box. “Not many. Twenty?”
“Good. You do the jigsaw with Bethany, and we’ll carry on looking.”
“The parrot has an empty dish,” Ravi pointed out. “What if we’re meant to feed it?”
I joined Rune at the desk, pushing any discomfort over the weirdness of the whole affair to the back of my mind. I hadn’t spent much time around kids, especially teenagers, and I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her. That could make working for her father somewhat awkward.
