“I do not.” He looks around as though he’s worried someone passing by might hear. I’m besmirching his reputation out here in the street. When I continue standing there like a weirdo, he reaches for his wallet. I put my hand in my pocket and grip the pen tightly. Eye-jabbing style.
He pulls out some photographs with tattered edges. “These are my children. I have two girls. My wife. We have cats. Two of them. Binxy and Tabitha.”
“Your cats’ names or your kids’ names?”
“The cats. I picked those names because my wife wouldn’t let me have anything to do with naming our daughters. I have a lot of aunts with tremendously bad names.”
He flips through the pictures and oddly enough, it does the trick. Maybe it’s the mangy looking yellow cat with one missing ear. Or the toothless grin of his littlest daughter.
I believe him.
“Okay, let’s go.” I skip forward and watch from the corner of my eyes as his face twists up in exasperation. Getting that reaction from people is my superpower. I don’t even have to try.
He folds his wallet and tucks it away. I’m at the passenger door getting in as I hear him protest with some kind of grumbling noise.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m to open the door for you, Miss Savannah. Traditionally.”
“Oh, Chuck . . . I am the furthest thing from traditional. Don’t worry.”
He clears his throat, seeming to swallow back his reaction to his new nickname. “And usually passengers prefer the comfort of the back seat.”
“Nah, I’m good up front.” I want to be in eye-stabbing distance if things get hokey. I’ve seen one too many shows about cab rides gone wrong. Rigged not to unlock. No thanks. The weird cat with one ear is cute, but I prefer to stay in striking distance with my pen.
He skitters around the front of the car and gets in with a muffled puff of air.
“You work for a service? Which one?” I check the dash for some kind of badge or company name.
“I work for Brice.”
“You just drive him around?”
“Among other things. Yes.”
“What other things?”
“Buckle up, Miss Savannah. Safety first.”
“You’re dodging my questions.”
“I’m a dutiful employee.”
“More like a deer during hunting season. Jumpy.” Biting my lip, I narrow my eyes at him.
“Hunting season? Are you aiming for me? Should I be worried?” He chuckles.
“I’m just chatty by nature.” I give him a warm smile. “Your boss was a man of few words last night. I’d like to know at least something about the man who ordered me to take this ride. What can you tell me about Brice? There has to be something you can share.”
I watch him sort through the answer. “I don’t usually do something like this. But you seem like a nice girl. Harmless. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to share something with you. Since you’re so interested in him.”
“I’m not interested in him. I have no intention of ever seeing him again.” I think of his pen in my pocket and wonder if maybe taking it had more to do with having an excuse to give it back. “Trust me, last night was a disaster. I’m just curious. Not interested in him.”
Charles nods and lets his face fall serious. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t let it get back to him that I told you.”
“Of course.” I lean forward a bit, like I’m in the frigid waters of Coppertop, bracing for a wave to crest over me.
“He isn’t a fan of soft cheeses. Hates them actually. Prefers nice hard long-aged cheddar. He tells people he’s allergic, but truly he just doesn’t like them.”
“Fascinating.” I sit back in my seat and watch the city begin to roll by us. “You’re a funny man, Chucky. If this driving thing doesn’t work out, you should consider stand-up comedy.”
“I’ll consider it.” He reaches for the radio and turns it up. He thinks that’s going to keep me from talking to him. Cute.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brice
It’s not possible. In this day and age everyone has a digital footprint. I’ve spent the last ten years trying to drag my family, and in turn our country, into the future. Success is now dependent on evolution. Yet, Jana Monroe, and whatever she does on the fifteenth floor of this building, seems to have no real website. No public phone number. No mission statement. Nothing.
I consider calling in a favor. It’s not hard as royalty. People have indebted themselves to my family for generations, and I get to reap the benefits of that. But it can come with strings attached.
Nothing stays secret from my father. The questions would begin. Why would I be interested in this woman and her company? My mother would be calling me within the hour of getting word I was looking into Jana Monroe.
I reach for my pen and realize it’s gone. My father’s gift to me on my twenty-first birthday. I open the drawer and look beneath my desk. It’s gone.
She took it. I’ll have Charles pat her down before he drops her off. Or maybe I’ll do it myself.
My hands grow hot at the thought of touching her, searching her. I imagine having her back on my desk, legs spread, head tipped back. Begging for my cock. I have to physically shake my head to dislodge the image.
Charles calls, and I right myself quickly.
“Yes?” I’m irritated.
“She’s squared away. It went pretty quick. I’m guessing because people wanted to move her along as fast as they could.”
“I told you, she’s a nightmare.”
“I meant because she’s so sweet. Charming everyone we’ve met today. She’s at the hotel on South Street taking a shower and changing for her meeting. Shall I drop her off?”
“No. I can’t find anything about this woman she’s meeting. Just some bogus website front that leads nowhere. It’s like a shell company or something. I need more time.”
“She has an appointment with Jana at ten. It seems quite important. We’ve only got about an hour.”
“Has she told you anything else? Anything about what the meeting is for?” There’s an unfamiliar pitch in my voice that I quickly drop. “Anything about Jana?”
“Just that she can’t miss another meeting or she thinks she will not work with her.”
“What kind of work?”
“She hasn’t said. But she’s quite persistent about getting to the meeting.”
“And I know you’ll find a way to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Sir.”
“You won’t be able to sleep at night if you think you’re dropping her off to some sleazy woman with bad intentions.”
“I don’t think your diplomatic protections cover me against kidnapping.” Charles clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We’re walking a fine line here.”
“You’re a persuasive man. Just get it done. Keep her busy and away from this building.”
“You did say you spent time with her right? You must have noticed she’s determined.”
An understatement. “I don’t know what exactly this Jana Monroe woman is offering, but Savannah wants it. And she’s no fool. I can’t just hold something shiny up and expect her to forget why she came here. Keep her busy.” My voice is flat, and he knows well enough not to challenge my order.
“Yes,” Charles replies dutifully. “I’ll create some issue.”
“Fake a heart attack? She seems like the kind of woman who would hop in an ambulance with a perfect stranger just so they weren’t alone.”
“That’s a good kind of woman.”
I sidestep the trap he’s trying to set for me. “She’s gullible.”
There’s a silence. “Just get it done. Buy me an hour or two.”
I hang up and cue up a number that will answer my questions but not stir the pot for my family.
“Simon. It’s Brice. It’s been a long time. How’s the family?”
“Brice, you don’t have to bother with the niceties. If a prince calls my line, I drop wh
at I’m doing.” Simon is the son of James. James, the son of Louis. And for many generations the Linfield family is the first call my family makes when they need something done off the record. From what I understand there have been dozens of issues over the years the Linfields had solved for us. None happened without my father knowing.
“What can I do for you?” His voice was gritty but patient, likely out of duty.
“I need to know more about a company. It’s operating in the building I’m renting a floor on in Boston.”
“Do you think it’s a security threat?”
Shit. I recognize the concerned tone and quickly dismiss it. “Nothing like that. Likely harmless. I did a little recon on my own, and as far as I can tell it’s a shell company. What I don’t know is what they’re trying to hide.”
“Hmm.” Simon sounds intrigued. “And perhaps they’re just there for intel on your family? Could be something nefarious. In the same building? It’s close access to you. I’ll send some extra men your way today.”
“I have one guard here already, and that’s one more than I need. These people are no threat to me. They’ve made no contact at all with me.”
Simon lets out an unconvinced hum. “Then why are they on your radar?”
“It’s complicated. I came across a woman who plans to deal with Jana Monroe Enterprise. The story she told doesn’t sound right. I poked around a bit and found the shell company and the bogus website. That’s why my antenna went up.”
“What woman?”
“Unimportant.”
“No detail is unimportant when it comes to possible security breaches. I’m sure your father would agree.” Simon makes some kind of clicking noise with his tongue.
“My father is a busy man with more to worry about than some stranger I barely know and a company I don’t plan to do business with. If I thought for a moment this had any serious implications for myself or the family, I would alert you to that. It’s nothing more than my curiosity. We won’t make this bigger than it needs to be.”
“The woman. I’d at least like her name. I want to run her information too. You two crossing paths could be a setup. Maybe she’s an actress. Associated with this Jana Monroe. Trying an angle to get close to you.”
I chuckle at the idea that Savannah’s playing me. She has no poker face. Is a complete mess. No one is that good of an actress. “Fine. You won’t find anything scandalous or dangerous on her. If she wants to kill me she had her shot last night.”
“What’s that mean?”
I grunt out a dismissive laugh. “Her name is Savannah Barre. She’s from Maine. I’m pretty sure this company has lured her here for some reason. She’s their mark. I had some contact with her when we were stuck in the elevator and she didn’t have anywhere to go because her purse was stolen. If this Jana Monroe company does mean her some kind of harm, I don’t want our name getting mixed up with any of that. I’m calling so you can get me the intel and I can get out ahead of it.”
“Good call. But I’d like to do more than just pass you the information.”
“That’s all I want to happen. Do you understand?”
“So you said, it’s Jana Monroe Enterprises? I’m looking at the same thing. Definitely trying to shield their real intention. Their website encryption is quite sophisticated. Where it asks you to sign up for their monthly newsletter, it’s actually looking for a password. Not sure how people get the password, but that must unlock more in the site.” Simon pauses, and I wonder if he’s going to crack this code right while we’re on the line.
“I need this information pretty quickly.”
“Is the girl with you?”
“No, she’s with Charles.”
“So you spotted Charles?” Simon chuckles. “I figured it wouldn’t be too long before you realized your father wasn’t letting you wander the streets of Boston on your own. You’re all the talk here. The son who keeps defying his father but won’t say why.”
“I’m glad I can be of entertainment to you all.”
“Are you really going to keep everyone in the dark? You’ve run off to Boston and buried yourself in some work that doesn’t seem to need to be done at all. Your family has everything it needs.”
“Have you found anything yet?”
He clears his throat, realizing he’s put a toe over the line and better step back quick. “I’m going into the dark web now. If there is some kind of gatekeeper, there’s a chance the only way to access it is there.”
I let him stew for a long moment in his concern about insulting me. I could let him off the hook, but I’m hoping it might be enough to get him to keep his mouth shut about this entire exchange.
“I’m not seeing much on the dark web. Some chatter amongst some men. Asking questions about what the company really is. If it’s an escort agency and how they can get in touch.”
“Escorts?”
“No one seems to answer affirmatively. One man said he found a business card from Jana Monroe at his date’s house one night, but he didn’t pay her for anything. He also said there was no phone number on it either. Which he thought was weird. It gets a little slimy from there. A bunch of bros trying to impress each other.”
“But there is no contact site? No way to get in touch with anyone there? That’s impossible. How do you run a business of any kind without a digital presence?”
“Word of mouth? If it’s elite or illegal, staying off of the web would certainly help the longevity of a company. Less liability of someone getting caught.”
“There’s nothing else?”
“I’ll dig around a little more and let you know what I come up with. I’m sure there is something we can shake loose.”
“She’s supposed to be meeting with them this morning.”
“You may need to stall her then.” I can hear his cocky grin. “Maybe take her to breakfast.”
The line disconnects, and I’m left wondering why this woman would be worth the drama I’ve just created. Then I think of her lips. Her delicate hands. Her innocent smile. There’s no way in hell Jana Monroe and her weird secret company can stay private on my watch.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Savannah
The hotel room looks straight out of a fancy city-themed HBO show. The kind of bed the main character would flop into, arms wide, smile wider. The tiny soaps and fancy shampoo are little symbols of sophistication. Everyone knows tiny versions of things are always fancy. Except penises. I hear those go by the bigger is better standard.
I pocket every free sample thing from the bathroom and slather on a little extra-fancy lotion. I need a hell of a lot of man-made fragrance to get the fish smell out of my hair.
I’m getting swankier by the minute. I’ve rented a hotel room for the morning.
Who does that?
Apparently, I do. I didn’t think I had time, but Charles assured me he could get me to my appointment with Jana. The idea of cleaning myself up was too big a temptation to deny.
A hot shower. Clean clothes I bought in the shop downstairs. Although I originally thought Jana should see the Coppertop version of me, I decided a pair of slacks and a blouse might give my lagging confidence the boost it needs. The flats I chose aren’t flashy, but they’re a step up from my tennis shoes. The smell of gas and fish is gone—she’ll be grateful for that alone. I toss my coat into the lobby’s trash can and feel bad that they’ll probably spend the morning trying to figure out where that smell is coming from.
Charles is still waiting for me outside, and part of me is shocked. He’s been obediently carting me around the city all morning. I have cash from the bank. A new phone. A new set of fresh clothes and now I’m ready for my meeting. He’s probably counting the minutes until he can drop me there and never see me again.
“Are you hungry?” Charles asks as I settle into the front seat next to him. An action he still seems uncomfortable about. At least, for his sake, I smell better.
“I’m hungry, but I have to get to this meeting. Jana is ex
pecting me in twenty minutes.”
“Yes ma’am.” Charles puts the car in gear and pulls away from the curb. I’m so close to turning this whole nightmare of a trip around.
Just as my heart flutters with excitement, there’s a weird jolt in the car and then a pop that turns to a hiss. Smoke rises from the hood, and Charles quickly turns the car off.
“Better get out, ma’am. For your own safety.”
I hop out of the car, but by the smell of it, I already know the issue. “It’s coolant. You blew a radiator hose. You might be able to work it back on if it’s not totally destroyed, but the car has to cool down first.”
“I’ll have it fixed in a jiffy,” Charles promises as he takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeves.
“I’ve got to get to Jana’s. I’ll catch a cab.” I crane my neck to see if any are heading that way.
“I’d feel better if I could drive you. This has happened before. It’ll take just a minute to fix.”
My mouth opens to protest, but Charles is already snapping the hood open, fumbling with the latch to keep it up. “This does stay up on its own, right?”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Ouch.” He jumps back from the splattering coolant. “Yes,” he chokes out as he waves the smoke away. “Radiator hose.”
“And the radiator is?” I lean in and wait for him to identify it. Instead he points to the battery.
“Charles, you’ll need a mechanic. The hose slipped off. They can put it back on with an O clamp and then top off the coolant. It won’t take long. Just make a call.”
“Wait! This has happened before.” He snaps his fingers as though he’s just remembered something as he moves toward the glove box. “Is it this kind of clamp?”
“Yes,” I say, checking my watch. Fifteen minutes to get to Jana’s. I could call her and tell her the situation, but she already thinks I’m a flake. Getting connected with Jana was beyond challenging. Blowing my shot would crush all my plans. As Charles fiddles around with the hot hose, I know he’ll be a mess if I leave. Probably burn himself.
The Bachelor Towers: Books 1-3 Page 40