Do Me Right

by Lisa G Riley

  “I know,” Sloan said tiredly. “You already told me, remember? You called after you finished helping her move.”

  “Well, for both your sakes, I hope you know what you’re doing. She is so obviously miserable that it’s almost painful to look at her. She’s lost weight, and I can tell from the circles under her eyes that she’s not sleeping well. She looks unhealthy.”

  Sloan did his best to ignore the twinge in his heart and had to bite his tongue to keep from asking how much weight she’d lost. “I’m sorry about that, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m just as miserable.”

  “Damn, you’re a stubborn bastard,” Connor said in disgust.

  Sloan only quirked a brow.

  “I came in here just knowing I could persuade you to make a move. None of my efforts have worked with Kendra.”

  Sloan caught himself before he could ask what Kendra’s arguments were. “I can’t help you. Besides, in my place, you’d do the same thing.”

  Connor didn’t deny it.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “I don’t know, Barlow. I’m not so sure your plan will work.”

  Barlow sighed impatiently and resisted the urge to shake the shit out of his lover. Stupid bitch, he thought. God, he hated whiners. “Of course it’ll work, baby. It has to. Otherwise we’re in deep shit. I told you about the police coming over to see me and how Sloan put them up to it. He definitely suspects me.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts.” Barlow’s voice was hard. “Don’t think that you’re in the clear just because they don’t know you’ve been helping me.”

  “You’d tell on me, Bar?”

  Barlow snorted. “Honey, I’d sing like the proverbial fucking canary. Barlow Sims is not the kind of person who goes down alone. If I’m in it for the long haul, then so are you.”

  “But if I got caught, I’d never give you up.”

  I’m so sick of this shit. Barlow recoiled in disgust when the tears started falling. Compassion, Barlow. Show some fucking compassion. It’s the last time you’ll have to do it. “Hush up, baby. You know this whole conversation is moot anyway, because we’re going to get away with it.”

  “Yes, but I never thought we’d have to kill Sloan.”

  “Neither did I, but it’s either him or us now, and the sooner we do it the better. My aunt will be home tomorrow, and we can’t take the chance he’ll tell her about my being involved in the theft. I’d have preferred we got more than the quarter of a mil we did, but it will have to do.”

  “But—”

  Barlow sipped from the tearstained cheeks, finally softly sliding his tongue into the mouth that eagerly opened under his. “We’ll be fine. You said Sloan has been working late every night. You have access to the parking garage. All we have to do is ambush him there.”

  “I know—”

  “Hush now. You don’t want me to go to jail, do you?” Barlow asked softly as he continued to kiss and stroke. “Everything will go off without a hitch tomorrow; you’ll see. You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now lie down and let me take care of you. Barlow loves taking care of his baby.”

  Surrender was swift—and dangerous. What Barlow didn’t say was that he wouldn’t be the one to go down if they got caught, because he hadn’t been the one doing the actual stealing. Nor did Barlow Sims like deadweight; he planned to leave that parking garage alone the next night.

  *

  “Hey, you.” Kendra looked up from the computer monitor and greeted Connor with a pleased smile.

  “Hey, yourself. Busy?”

  “Always, but I think I can spare you a little time. I’m trying to reconcile a budget that just won’t add up, and I’m tired of it. Come on in.”

  “Mind if I shut the door?”

  “No, not if you find it necessary.”

  Connor closed the door behind him and walked in to sit down. “I’ll just get straight to the point. You can’t seriously believe that Sloan would do anything to deliberately hurt you. He loves you too much.”

  “I know he loves me, Connor, but all I keep thinking about is how he didn’t show up on our wedding day.”

  Connor struggled with his conscience. His conscience won. He’d promised Sloan he wouldn’t tell. “You can’t get past that at all?”

  Kendra shook her head. “No, not really. I thought I’d be able to, but it hasn’t happened. It’s almost like a recurring nightmare for me. It won’t let me go.”

  Connor looked at her with a frown. “Damn, that’s too bad, Kendra, because if ever there were two people who belonged together, it’s you and Sloan.”

  Kendra grimaced. “I don’t know what to do, Connor. I love him so much, but there’s that barrier of distrust that I can’t get rid of. He isn’t willing to be with me so long as it’s there, and I can’t blame him. I want to change. I really do.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “He wouldn’t even tell me why he missed our wedding.”

  “To borrow your words: you can’t blame him.”

  “Oh gee, thanks for understanding.”

  “I think it’s too late for explanations now anyway, Kendra. Sloan is right; you should trust him. So tell me what else has been going on in your life.” He saw her surprise at the quick change of subject but didn’t say anything further.

  “What’s going on in my life? Oh, nothing but work, work, and more work. You know how it is.” She cleared her throat. “Uh…how’s Sloan doing?”

  “Same as you: not so good, but hanging in there. He’s still no closer to figuring out who the thief in his firm is, so that’s bugging him. Speaking of which”—the lie formed quickly in his mind and slipped easily from his lips—“this theft has brought out a side of him I’ve never seen. But I guess he feels desperate times call for desperate measures.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His impatience has made him completely reckless. He told me that he was going to tell all the potential suspects that he knows about the theft and that he knows who did it. He figures this will help him draw the thief out, and he’s going to wait for him or her to approach him.”

  Kendra shrugged. “Sounds good to me; I’d probably do the same thing if I were in his shoes and hadn’t found out by now who the fucker is.”

  Connor furrowed his brow. “But don’t you see how dangerous that could be for him?” He leaned forward in his chair when she only looked confused. “What if the thief or thieves panic and decide that they need to get rid of Sloan?”

  Kendra’s frown deepened. “Oh, well, I don’t think—”

  “Nobody ever thought that any one of the suspects would steal either, but one—or more—of them is.”

  “When is Sloan supposed to do this?”

  “Today, right before the firm shuts down. Everyone knows he’s been staying late a lot lately, and he figures the thief will take that opportunity to approach him then, when the office is empty. According to Sloan, everyone’s usually gone by seven thirty, unless there’s a big case going on, which at the present time, there isn’t—at least not one that they’re deeply involved in yet.”

  Kendra looked scared as she hurriedly stood. “Well, why didn’t you stop him, Connor?” she demanded as she leaned forward with her hands on her desk.

  Connor lifted a brow. “Me? Stop Sloan? You know how impossible he is once he gets something in his head. He won’t listen to me, but maybe you can convince him that it’s a stupid idea.”

  Kendra gathered her things. “Hmm?” She looked at her watch. “It’s six thirty now. It will be quicker for me to walk. I’ll get there in time enough to try to convince the stubborn idiot to go home. I’m sorry, Connor,” she said as she rounded her desk and grabbed her jacket from the hook behind the door. “But I’ve got to go.”

  “That’s fine,” Connor said and hid his smug grin. “I completely understand.”

  *

  “What are you doing here? And how did the hell did yo
u get up here without my finding out first?” Sloan demanded.

  Kendra winced visibly but continued into his office until she was in front of his desk. “You know they all know me here. I guess they thought it was okay for me to come up and that they didn’t need to call you.”

  “Guess I’ll have to remedy that misconception,” Sloan said sarcastically. He’d already had a bad day and didn’t feel like playing nice. Besides, he knew that she wasn’t there to discuss their problem. If she had wanted to do that, she’d have just tried to catch him at home. “What do you want?”

  Kendra sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk. “I need to talk to you.”

  Sloan snorted, pissed off that even as angry as he was with her, he still had an unrelenting need to feel her moving beneath him. “Unless it’s about how wrong you were, I’m busy.”

  “I’m serious, Sloan.”

  “So am I. Deadly. Are you here to apologize?”

  Kendra scowled. “No, I’m not. I’m—”

  “Then you know the way out. Find it,” he said in dismissal and, ignoring her gasp, went back to the brief he’d been reading when she came in.

  Ten minutes later he looked up to find Kendra still waiting. She sighed impatiently. “You know I can be as stubborn as you are, and I’ll just wait here until you pay attention to me.”

  “What is it that you want, Kendra? Besides my heart underneath your dainty feet, that is?” He saw tears gather in her eyes and felt a brief surge of satisfaction at the sight of them.

  “That’s unfair,” she said and took a couple of breaths, “but I’ll ignore it. I came here to try to convince you to forget about your stupid plan and go home before you get hurt.”

  “What?”

  “Connor told me about how you let all of the suspected thieves know that you’re aware that the trust has been plundered and how you plan to wait here for the thief, and I think it’s crazy. I mean, I know we’ve broken up, but I still don’t want you to get hurt, so I came here to try and talk you into going home before it’s too late.” Looking down, she waited.

  “Kendra.”

  His tone demanded attention, and she looked up at him.

  “Hello, darlings! I’m back!”

  The announcement, said with such “look at me I’m so fabulous” panache, immediately drew Sloan’s attention from Kendra. He stood up in complete surprise. Dressed from head to toe in blinding shades of pink, Mrs. Patterson stood in his doorway with a Tupperware dish and a squirming, barking toy poodle named Pookie in her arms.

  As he stood there mutely trying to adjust to the sight of her in all of her sparkling, dazzling glory, Sloan’s only thought was: My God, she is alive! Followed by, What the fuck?

  “What’s the matter, dear? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Sloan sat across the conference table from Mrs. Patterson. In deference to Pookie, he’d moved their unexpected meeting to his firm’s largest conference room. The damned dog was still squirming and yapping like mad.

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Mrs. Patterson told him as she tried to control her dog. “He’s been acting like this all day, and I just can’t understand it.”

  As he looked at the dog, who like his owner was dressed in all pink, Sloan thought he understood. He had no doubt that the little dog was protesting his loss of dignity. Maybe being outfitted in a pink bow and pink booties was par for the course for little dogs. But…was that a doggy halter top with matching doggy hot pants?

  Hell. Forget barking; Pookie had cause to riot.

  That’s right, little Pookie. Rage against the machine, Sloan told the dog silently as Pookie started growling and nipping at his leash, which predictably was pink and covered with pink gems of some sort. Sloan could only hope that they weren’t real, but he wouldn’t put anything past the compulsively shopping Mrs. Patterson.

  “Pookie, stop that,” Mrs. Patterson chastised. “You’ll make Sloan think you have no manners.”

  “It’s all right, Mrs. Patterson,” Sloan assured her. “After all, he is a dog. I moved our meeting in here so you could let him loose. There’s plenty of room for him to run around, and I’ve closed all the doors so he can’t get out.”

  A brilliant smile lit up Mrs. Patterson’s dark brown, wrinkled face. “You’re such a good boy,” she commended. Sloan wondered if she was talking to him or the dog. “I knew Terrence had made the right decision when he chose you to take care of our money.” After depositing Pookie on the floor, she leaned closer to Sloan to whisper, “Don’t worry about Pookie making nasty on your nice carpet. He’s wearing a diaper.”

  Startled, Sloan flicked his eyes to the dog and then brought them back to look at Mrs. Patterson. “Oh. Is he sick?”

  “Sick?” Mrs. Patterson tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. “Oh!” she exclaimed and laughed. “You think he’s incontinent! No, my Pookie baby isn’t at all incontinent. My dear friend Ava suffers from it, though. Bless her heart, the poor thing is afraid to come outdoors sometimes. No, no, thank God my Pookie doesn’t have that affliction.

  “I put the diaper on him today so he wouldn’t mess up his new outfit. I bought it on the cruise when I remembered that I had the one I’m wearing at home in my closet and that I’d been meaning to buy him something to match. Isn’t it adorable? It’s Chanel, you know.” She sat back and clasped her hands in front of her, looking at him expectantly.

  Conditioned by now from all of his meetings with Mrs. Patterson, Sloan came out of his zone when the chatter stopped. He knew she wanted a response, so he gave her one. “Uh…which one?”

  She laughed. “You’re so clever. My outfit is Chanel—well, the suit is, the blouse is Dolce and Gabbana, but everything goes so nicely together.”

  Sloan resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. “Well, you look lovely in it, whoever made it.”

  Mrs. Patterson’s pleased giggles musically filled the room. “Oh, bless you, you sweet boy,” she trilled and patted his hand. “Now enough of this chitchat. I got home early this morning and took a long nap, but I’m afraid my age is catching up with me again, and I’ll need to get to bed soon. So before I conk out, let’s talk business. What’s the latest with the trust?”

  “Well—”

  “Before that, though,” she said as she slid the Tupperware dish near him and pulled the lid off. “I know I promised you a 7-Up cake, but I haven’t had time to bake it yet. I did bake these brownies, though—baked them fresh this afternoon. Have one.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Patterson. Your baked goods are always more than worth the extra time in the gym.” After devouring not just one, but two brownies, Sloan began, “I’m afraid nothing’s really new since I talked to you on the phone.” While they talked, he wondered if Kendra was still in his office.

  Kendra looked at her watch. They’d been gone for an hour. It was a good thing her appetite was still pretty much hit or miss these days, because she hadn’t had dinner. It was too bad Mrs. Patterson had interrupted them just when they were about to really get into things.

  “Okay, so tell me what the hell you were talking about?”

  Startled by Sloan’s entrance and aggressive attitude, Kendra flinched. “I—”

  “Come on, come on,” he said impatiently as he walked behind his desk. “What is this about a plan you and Connor think I put together?”

  Kendra studied his face and saw confusion—confusion that couldn’t possibly have been feigned. Still taken aback by his attitude, she was slow to realize what had happened. “I—Connor said—He said that you…” She stopped, frowned. “Christ, I’m going to kill him!”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” she said as she stood. “I’m sorry I took up your time. If you’ll excuse me, there’s a certain meddler I need to see.”

  “Wait, don’t leave yet.”

  Kendra paused, her heart stuttering and her breath catching as she waited to hear what he wanted to say. Does he really w
ant me to stay? Is he going to explain what happened on our wedding day? Not that it matters, but—

  “It’s dark outside. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll walk you to your car when I walk Mrs. Patterson to hers.”

  Kendra tried not to let the crushing disappointment she felt show as she thought about telling him he didn’t need to walk her, but knowing he’d only ignore the suggestion, she merely said, “Where is she?”

  “She and Pookie needed a quick trip to the bathroom.”

  “The dog took a bathroom break?”

  “Apparently so. He has this diaper—It’s a long story. Just wait until they come out, and we’ll all leave together.”

  “Fine. Guess I’ll just try not to breathe until I’m separated from the dog.”

  *

  “Thank you again for making sure I got safely to my car, Sloan.”

  “It’s no problem, Mrs. Patterson,” Sloan told her as the three of them rode the parking-garage elevator. “We’ll just get my car, and I’ll drive you and Kendra to your vehicles. According to Kendra, the two of you parked in the same street lot near her office.” They stepped off the elevator, and he pointed out a bench. “Why don’t you wait here, Mrs. Patterson, and Kendra and I will swing around and pick you up.”

  Mrs. Patterson sank down onto the bench. “That sounds good, dear. Pookie and I have had a long day.”

  “Thanks, Sloan,” Kendra whispered as they started to walk a little deeper into the well-lit belly of the structure. “My eyes are really starting to itch, and my throat is all scratchy.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re carrying any of your allergy medicine.”

  “No. I didn’t expect to be in such close proximity to a dog today. The unfortunately dressed Pookie came as a complete surprise,” she said with twitching lips.

  Sloan couldn’t completely stop a grin from stretching his lips. “Well, you’ll be away from him soon.”

  “Where are you parked?”

  “It’s just over there,” he said with a nod in the general vicinity of his car. “I didn’t get my regular spot today because someone else took it, but I’m pretty close.”