Mack, Luca, Dean, and Adam, all there, waiting for his arrival.
“Am I late?” His words were clipped and he mentally shook himself. His mind was still on the pictures, and he was pissed. Someone had caught Amelia in intimate poses, her vulnerability he loved so much shining in all of them. Especially in her garden.
He didn’t even know she had a garden.
Whoever had taken those pictures had stolen that knowledge from him.
“No.” Adam was shuffling a deck of cards and Charlie looked on with amusement. At one point, Adam had been pretty good with them, and it seemed he still could work a mean shuffle.
Adam started dealing, laying three cards out in the middle of the table.
“Why are we here?” Mack asked pointedly as he picked up the cards Adam tossed him after laying down the river.
“I wanted to go over the order of operations, and what specifically everyone was going to do. I’ve been making contact with some of the officers in vice to get them on board to look the other way.” He looked at Luca. “You ready to set up some poker tournaments?”
Luca smiled, looking like the boy next door. Charlie was trying to figure out how to use the kid’s charm. “Yup.”
Luca had been mostly a family guy since his parents had left him and his brothers with their grandma. He worked briefly for Forrester in high school, but had managed to leave the organization before getting too entrenched. That was all Charlie had been able to dig up on him after high school. A younger guy, he’d thrown himself into opening the restaurant with his grandma and siblings.
Clean cut, but with a dark side that Bascom Forrester created.
Charlie looked at his cards to see he had a bunch of shit. Nobody moved.
“I’ve already cloned his phone, and he’s pretty obvious about his shipment times,” Mack spoke up. An honorably discharged veteran, he had tons of computer skills that he’d tried to put to use in the corporate world after the Army, but he had been fired for blowing the whistle on the boss’ son who he’d caught on video snorting a line of coke in the breakroom with his secretary.
He had a moral compass that could get in the way of this, but his eagerness to take down Forrester because of his sister’s death seemed to overrule it.
Mack fanned his cards, straightened them back up, then fanned them out again. Charlie decided he wasn’t a regular poker player, and pretty shitty too, based on how fidgety he was with his cards. Probably against his religion or some shit.
“Okay, so we’ll go ahead and start on the shipment hijacking, use that for seed money for anything else we may need while we’re running the poker tournies.”
“You still want me to rob the banks?” Dean looked hopeful, and Charlie did not want to disappoint.
“Absolutely. We’ll need those bank shares down; hopefully they’ll bring down his others if we can connect the two with his name.”
Dean looked relieved and Charlie felt for the guy. He was also an ex-military man who hadn’t come out of the service with some fancy degree. He was currently working third shift at a warehouse for fifteen dollars an hour.
“We’ll start with undermining his organization, then let Mack go in and hit his pocketbook with his little program.” Mack snorted at that, but Charlie continued. “Then you can do the robberies and we’ll let Adam do his thing last. It will play into the whole showdown to ruin him.”
“How are we going to get the word out to the public to bring down market value?” Luca asked, even as Mack opened his mouth.
“I’ll worry about that. It’s sort of what I do best. Ruin images of people.”
With the word images, Charlie’s thoughts ran toward the pictures again. He was still pissed about that, but he was more alarmed for Amelia.
“A little off topic, but I need a favor. My assistant is no longer with me, but she needs another job. Anyone got anything?”
Adam smiled at him knowingly, but Luca spoke first. “I can always use a waitress or a bartender.”
The idea of his Amelia fending off advances from drunks at a bar turned Charlie’s stomach.
“I got something. I need an office worker, someone to greet off the streeters and handle deliveries and stuff.” Adam spoke, and Charlie relaxed. That was much better. Hiding her out of sight of the public, and Adam would pay her better than waitressing tips.
Adam leaned back in his chair, fishing something out of his jacket pocket. “And if anyone needs to do any recon in his house, I sold Mrs. Forrester an atrocious art piece last month, and she’s invited me to her annual anniversary party. I managed to make copies of the invite, if anyone wants one.”
He dropped five expensive linen envelopes on the table, and Charlie grinned.
“Nice…”
Now, Luca was one he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. Did he have the stomach for what they were going to do?
He’d have to find out.
Chapter Twenty-five
Amelia was looking for a job and gardening for Gram. That’s what her life had become. A flurry of unknowns. A woman at the farmer’s market had some small bushes and Amelia was planting some heirloom roses in a flowerbed Gram could see out her window. She had done her research, prepared the soil, and found a certain joy in the experience.
She was learning that gardening wasn’t unknown though. The plants did exactly what you prepared for them.
She decided she loved flowers. Their sole purpose to provide beauty, in addition to oxygen. They had delicate petals in vibrant colors, the thorny stems warning away predators who might pick them and destroy the beauty. The roses turned into a sort of banner for Amelia’s new life she was building for herself and Gram. She would still be a pretty flower, but she needed some sort of thorn to ward away the potential Charlies of the world, who would want to pick and destroy her.
She just didn’t know what her thorn would be. She could get tattoos, but she was afraid that would keep her from getting a job, and she didn’t necessarily think tattoos would deter a man of Charlie’s caliber.
No, it couldn’t be something physical. She needed some sort of hardened shell, and gardening in her spare time probably wouldn’t grow it on her skin. But the gardening was helping her heal from the sights she’d seen, and it was available to her at this moment.
Her phone rang in the pocket of her smock. She stifled the jerk her tummy made every time it rang, schooling her voice when it wasn’t Charlie.
“Hello?” It wasn’t a familiar number, and with the number of applications she’d put out, she knew it had to be about a job.
“This is Beckett Art Gallery. Can you come in for an interview Tuesday at nine a.m.?” The voice sounded familiar to her and her next words were rushed.
“Yes, of course. What’s the address?” She really should be asking more questions, but a job was a job, and she’d clearly talked to this guy before. Probably when she picked up an application. Or called to follow up on it. She’d been doing a lot of that too.
Although, she didn’t remember an art gallery.
He gave her the address and she hung up, feeling a little giddy. She didn’t even question anything about it, just knowing it was legit. She felt it in her bones.
**
Tuesday morning, she showed up at an office off a warehouse by the docks. The man who approached from the back had her picking her jaw up off the floor.
“I didn’t put in an application here,” she said stupidly. “Charlie told you to hire me.”
Adam wore an expensive suit, and she almost walked away then. She was finished with men in expensive suits, but the smirk he sent her calmed her nerves a bit. It was a look of being in on a joke with her instead of making her the butt of one.
“While primarily an art gallery, this is also an import/export business. I need someone to be here during the day, answer phones, sign for deliveries, things of that ilk. I’m away from the office quite a bit, but I have been told you can be trusted with mer
chandise and won’t ask too many questions I don’t have time for. I also know for a fact, you can be professional in the face of rudeness and will make sure clients respect my time.” He seemed almost bored, but the tone soothed her. She didn’t want an interesting job. She had enough taking her mental capacities with Gram, and the garden was helping her emotions. She just needed money. And when he gave her a number for her paychecks, she was satisfied.
Thoughts of Charlie swam around in her head as she listened to Adam talk. They had a similarity to them, but were opposites physically. Where Charlie was a bit shorter than Adam, his muscles were bulkier. Adam was leaner. Adam’s suits were lighter in color, as was his blond hair. Charlie wore dark-gray or black suits and had hair like a raven.
“Does Charlie ever come here?” She had to know if she would see him. Still torn about her past with him, she had no idea if it would ever be behind her.
She was having a difficult time breathing. Her heartbeat rushed loudly in her ears, and she realized she’d squeaked her question instead of asking it with a normal voice.
Could she work for a friend of Charlie’s? She wasn’t sure. She might see him, though it seemed unlikely. Was this import/export business as illegal as what Charlie did for a living? On the surface, it didn’t seem so, but Amelia knew just enough about the doings of criminals to jump to dangerous conclusions, her recent binge-watching of Criminal Minds giving her plenty of fodder.
Still, this was the first time she’d heard Charlie Delmonico’s name in weeks. It simultaneously soothed and bothered her, and she knew exactly why.
“Is he a deal breaker? I should know better. If so, I’ll be sorry to lose your services. I really do need a good front-end person.” Surely, he wasn’t making double entendres with her?
“No, not a deal breaker. I may need some advanced warning to prepare though.” She laughed through the lie, trying to reassure the man. She wanted the job, a stupid way to be closer to Charlie, even if she never saw him. He’d never lied to her. He’d told her he was a bad man.
She was the one who hadn’t heeded the warning.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Would she constantly think about Charlie, here, in the space belonging to his friend? Would she wonder when she’d get to see Charlie again? Would she know all about the poker games and be tempted to ask questions?
“Yes, I’ll take the job.” She could try it anyway. What could it hurt?
“One other thing. I have an engagement next week. A client who’s invited me to her anniversary party. It is only professional; you won’t have to pretend to be my date or anything.” Mr. Beckett’s mouth turned down in distaste. “But I loathe going to these things alone, and as my administrative assistant, it wouldn’t be out of line for you to accompany me. Do you have suitable attire?”
“Yes.” What was it with men not having women to go with them to functions? “As long as it’s not a vaguely covered up ploy for sex, I’ll go.”
“There’s the ballbuster I called for an interview.” Adam graced her with a rare smile, and she smiled in return. Up until now, she didn’t think he remembered her.
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-six
That night, on the ride home, Charlie had given Luther the details of the new plan. He would need Luther’s help, as well as his contacts to get Luca set up with some muscle for his “casino.” He could also provide names for Charlie, if he knew what they were up to.
Luther had worked in Charlie’s shadow for years, and he would continue to do so. Luther would have it no other way. He’d tried to bring the man in on a partner level, but he’d refused.
This morning, he ordered a new conference table. Not that his old one was in poor shape, but he wanted Forrester to be unable to resist the chance to bug his conference room.
And now he waited. He’d paid for expedited delivery and was currently researching the newspaper for reporters who seemed to be waiting for a chance to break something big. One aspect of their new plan was to take down Forrester’s real estate division, drive his share prices down. The best way to do that was with some bad press.
Unfortunately, Bascom Forrester owned one of the newspapers in the city.
But Charlie thought he found something when he saw an article in the women’s section on a local church organization who was working toward helping trafficking victims get back on their feet. It was written by an activist, and when he looked at her past articles, he saw tips on removing stains from silk, book reviews, and vapid things like that. It was clear she was chomping at the bit for something of substance and had probably fought tooth and nail to write this piece. The only reason she’d been able to was because of the women’s church group angle.
He was supposing a lot on this assumption, but in his gut, he felt it was right.
Heidi Jones. He texted her name to Mack, telling him to look her up and make sure she was who he thought she was.
His door opened and Luca entered, poking his head around it first. Charlie waved at him to enter. Perfect timing. The new conference table he didn’t need was set to be delivered any minute.
“Hey! Come on in.” He gestured him to sit in the seat across from his desk.
Luca affably sauntered in and sat where Charlie gestured, relaxed yet poised.
“What’s up?” Luca asked as he quirked an eyebrow.
“You got a girlfriend?”
Luca shook his head, even as his eyes shadowed with questions. Charlie got it. He was a veritable stranger, and that was a relatively personal question.
“I don’t do women.” Luca started to backtrack. “Okay, I do women. I don’t do girlfriends.”
“Why not?”
A shrug. “I’ve been busy. And I’ve never really found one that was worth it. Why?” His skeptical look told Charlie he was done answering inane questions.
He decided to be straight with the kid.
“I just can’t get a read on you. That’s all. You seem like you may be too good for this operation.”
Luca shifted. “Look. I want to see Forrester ruined. Make no mistake about that. And if my relationship with girls is how you’re going to judge my ability to take part in this, then let’s just say, I have yet to spend time with a woman I haven’t wanted to spank for one reason or another. They’re too much of a headache.”
Charlie found himself chuckling at that description.
“Yeah, I’ve wanted to spank a few myself.” He quieted as thoughts of Amelia filled his brain.
Then the reason he’d wanted Luca here today came into the office. To Luca, he said, “Come with me.”
A man muscled his enormous box inside his office, and Charlie was pleased to see it was the same pierced, tattooed douchebag who’d come before.
He strode out to meet the guy who was looking at Amelia’s desk with disappointment. Luca followed.
Charlie remembered clearly how much the kid had flirted with his woman on his last visit, and it made this afternoon’s potential activities that much more exciting.
“You’re missing some decorations this morning, Mr. Delmonico,” the cheeky bastard was saying as he leaned on his dolly, breathing hard from his exertions.
Charlie smiled in anticipation of the further exertion he was going to cause the young man. He sent Luther a text and slipped his phone in his pocket.
“I’m at a disadvantage, young man. You know my name, and I don’t know yours.” He kept his tone even, affable, but the tightening in his chest told him he was looking forward to extracting information from the kid. At the same time, he’d be able to find out if Luca had the stomach for this.
He held out a hand with letters on the knuckles. Classy. “Dylan Monroe. At your service.” Kid was grinning like he hadn’t just sealed some deal with the devil. By the end of the day, Dylan Monroe would be promising Charlie his firstborn child. A sharp intake of breath came from behind him, and Charlie wondered about Luca’s reaction.
“Dyl
an.” Charlie let the name roll over his tongue. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Luca followed, a few paces behind.
They rode down the elevator, with Dylan whistling over the view. “I don’t get to take this elevator. It’s nice. You can see everybody. And the street. Over there.” He was pointing out the view, and Charlie managed to smile indulgently. “Do I know you?” He looked at Luca, and Luca shook his head, looking at his feet.
Charlie took Dylan’s elbow, leading him through the lobby, and Larry noticed.
“Everything okay, Mr. Delmonico?” The security guard had stood behind his desk, his hand on the pepper spray.
“Yes, thank you. My friend and Dylan and I are just getting some air, that’s all.” He gave Larry a genuine smile, wishing he hadn’t just drawn attention to their actions, but there was nothing to be done for it.
Outside, Luther waited with his door open, and Charlie muscled the kid inside, who was just now realizing something was wrong.
“What are you doing?” Luca had squeezed in as well and was watching silently.
“We’re going to drive around and you’re going to tell me how much Forrester pays you for his dirty work, and what exactly you do for him.” Charlie got into the car on the other side, caging the kid in.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Luther? Would you mind driving to that old field by the airport? It’s nice and quiet out there. No people, right?”
“Yes, sir.” Luther was playing his part.
“Now, try again.” Charlie turned back to the kid as he bent over to retrieve the baseball bat Luther had left for him inside the car.
He tapped it into his palm, making a smacking noise that had the kid flinching.
“Sir, no disrespect intended, but you remember the last Town Car we had when you talked inside of it with the baseball bat?” Luther was ridiculously good at this. Charlie looked over at Luca, whose mouth was set in a grim line of determination, his eyes hard.
He wouldn’t do too badly at all this.
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