What was that she said about her dad? Killed by the police. She looked all sweet and innocent on the outside, but perhaps her upbringing had a little in common with mine. A little, not a lot. No one’s upbringing could be quite like mine.
I went to the bathroom to wash my hands, and splash some cold water on my face. Looking myself in the mirror afterwards was always the hardest part. When the rage hit, I could roll with the punches, so to speak, but when the adrenaline had left my system I often found myself haunted by my actions.
Not that I regretted what I did this morning. I’d have done anything short of killing that man if it gave me even a one-in-ten chance of finding Kara’s killer.
But not regretting it didn’t make it any easier to live with my actions. At least I hadn’t been beating up random men who owed my dad money. I hated it when he left me in charge of the dirty work.
I didn’t have to do it myself, that’s what the hired thugs were for, but I didn’t feel right asking people to do something I wouldn’t do personally. That was my dad’s modus operandi and I was determined not to take after him, even if it did look inevitable that I would take over the family business one day.
At this point, the family business almost looked like a legitimate operation. Most of the money now came from our food packaging business. We even had one of the big accounting firms signing off on the accounts each year. Best not to think too much about the source of the start-up capital though.
We ran other businesses that dealt in cash and served as a decent way to launder money that otherwise would look suspicious appearing in our bank accounts. I didn’t work with those on a regular basis, but I couldn’t deny profiting from them.
Once I’d washed the dried blood from my hands, I went back to my office and tried to get my mind focused on the job. As much as I hated the ‘beating people up’ part of the job, I wasn’t exactly cut out for office work either.
I typically made it through about two or three emails at most before my mind started to wander and I picked up my phone or browsed the Internet. Corporate work was just so fucking boring, but I needed to keep on top of things. If I wasn’t seen to be running the business then people would start getting suspicious. Appearances were important.
Appearances. That reminded me of Chloe, except this time I didn’t just think of her as the girl who looked like Kara. Chloe was attractive in her own right. In fact, she was far more than just attractive. The girl was stunning.
I closed my eyes and pictured her sitting opposite me, looking up at me with a nervous, deferential look on her face. It wasn’t unusual for women to act nervous and awkward around me; I had that effect on them. Always had.
But Chloe wasn’t looking at me like that. She acted more concerned with the job than me personally, which wasn’t something I was used to. Women at this company had quit their jobs just because I’d told them I don’t like dipping my pen in the company ink.
I sat there for an hour as I tried to accomplish something that would take my mind off what happened this morning. The only way not to think about my failed attempt to track down Roddy was to think about Chloe, and that didn’t seem to be much better.
She deserved better than having me reject her so abruptly. I sent out a few emails to the few legitimate business acquaintances I still had, and asked if they needed a personal assistant. It was the least I could do for someone so talented.
By the time my stomach started growling at me and demanded I eat something, all I had accomplished was signing off on next month’s budget, which just involved me sanity checking it and telling Joan that I approved. I didn’t understand most of it, and I didn’t care to learn. I knew jack shit about finances, but I knew how to hire good people and that was far more important.
I stood up and started to head out for lunch, but the phone on my desk rang before I made it to the door. I could just ignore it, but people needed me to make decisions and at least that way I could be of some use.
I pressed the button to answer the call on speaker, and simultaneously pulled my cellphone out of my pocket to give myself something to look at when the conversation started to bore me as it inevitably would.
“Denton, where the hell were you this morning?” James asked before I could even say hello.
“I’ve been in my office all morning, James,” I replied. “Some of us have to work for a living, you know?”
“Bloody hell, Denton. You were supposed to come down to the docks this morning, remember?”
“The docks?”
“Yes. We had a collection to make.”
A collection. That was James’ way of saying that we needed to go kick the shit out of some people who owed us money. I doubted anyone was listening in to our telephone calls, but it paid to be paranoid in this line of work.
“I don’t remember any collection this morning,” I replied, as I frantically tried to open the calendar on my computer.
Jimmy sighed. “Denton, you’re the boss’ kid so it’s not like I can tear you a new one, but I’m seriously tempted right now.”
The calendar opened and I saw it--I should have been there an hour ago. The calendar entry was described as a “sales call,” but I didn’t recognize the name of the business. The order had come directly from Dad, and I never questioned those.
“Was it important?” It was a stupid question. If it wasn’t important, James and I wouldn’t have been going personally.
“Yes, and you left me in the shit. Fortunately I’d brought a few additional heavies along, but if they weren’t there then things could have gotten nasty. For me, not the debtor.”
“But you handled it?”
“I handled it, but if you leave me in the lurch like that one more fucking time, I swear to God there will be consequences.”
“Sorry, James, that was my bad. Won’t happen again.”
James sighed, and I sensed the anger fade. He’d slipped back into close friend mode. James was a close friend of Dad’s, but he’d been around so much he was more like an uncle.
“It will though won’t it,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. “You need an assistant. You were always shit at organizing your schedule.”
“I’ll hire someone soon,” I lied. I wasn’t ready to hire anyone just yet.
“What about that girl from New York? She had an excellent résumé.”
“How do you know about her?”
“Who do you think is vetting all the applicants? I know how picky you are, so I’m only letting through the very best.”
“Chloe didn’t work out,” I said, not elaborating.
Jimmy stayed silent on the other end, and for a brief moment I thought the conversation might be over. No such luck.
“You have to replace her eventually,” Jimmy said softly. He knew this was a touchy subject and hoped that sounding like a kindly uncle would make it easier. It didn’t.
“Kara cannot be replaced,” I replied defiantly. “Not by anyone.”
“How long did you know Kara?” Jimmy asked. “Fifteen? Twenty years?”
“Since I was about five years old,” I replied. “So twenty years. Listen, is there a point to all this? Or do you just want to rub salt in the wounds?”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do, Denton. Listen to me. When you think of Kara, what do you think about?”
Pain. Despair. Death. Utter abject misery. But it hadn’t always been like that.
“She was my best friend. Loyal to the end.”
“So you don’t think of her as your PA?” James asked.
“No, of course not. She did that to help me out, but she was my friend first and foremost.”
“Exactly. By hiring a new PA, you’re not replacing Kara. You’re replacing one of the many things she did for you, but you’re not replacing her. She’ll always be the best friend you had from childhood. No one can change that.”
I let James’ words hang in the air for a few moments while I did my best to let them sink in. Kara had been the pe
rfect assistant, because I trusted her implicitly. Whoever took her place would need to be just as trustworthy.
“You are good at making speeches,” I admitted.
“Just remember that when you get married and need a best man.”
“If I get married, you can definitely do the job.”
It was an empty promise, given that the likelihood of me getting married was about the same as Dad giving up on a life of crime and giving all his money to charity. A real charity, not the phony ones he ran to claim a tax deduction.
“So you’ll give Chloe a shot at the job?” Jimmy asked. “She’s experienced, although whether that’s enough to keep you in order I don’t know.”
“Sure. If it keeps you off my back, I’ll do it.”
“Good man. Get her in as soon as possible. Word on the street is that big things are happening in the near future with our close personal friends over the road. I want you on the top of your game.”
‘Close personal friends,’ was James’ way of referring to the Bartons. They might be considering making a move on our territory. There was no way in hell I was going to let that happen.
I didn’t care about protecting Dad’s investments, but I did care about not letting Roddy Barton win.
I said goodbye to Jimmy, and dug Chloe’s résumé out of the trash. Her number was at the top. Jimmy was right--she was qualified and capable of doing the job. But could she be trusted?
There was only one way to find out.
No sooner had I put my phone back in my purse than it started ringing.
“Lois?” I asked as I answered the phone. I didn’t recognize the number, but being a senior FBI agent meant Lois had access to a number of different phones.
I’d just left a message on her office phone and had assumed she was calling me straight back. She wasn’t.
“No, it’s Denton. Denton Russell.”
Shit. I just gave the target of the investigation my boss’s name. I’d be keeping that little slip up to myself. No need to report everything back to Lois.
“Oh, hi, Denton,” I replied. “Did I leave something at the office?”
“I’ve changed my mind. You can have the job.”
“I can?”
“Yeah. You start tomorrow morning. Any questions?”
“No, none.”
I wanted to ask him why he changed his mind, but that seemed too personal. A real PA would just be grateful for the offer and accept it. Discretion was important so asking him to explain himself wasn’t a good idea.
“See you tomorrow.”
He hung up.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d lived to fight another day.
The phone rang again, but this time it was Lois and she was returning the call from her office number. I was giddy with excitement and nerves, so my hand shook uncontrollably as I answered it.
“Hi, Lois.”
I ducked down a side street to get some privacy for the call.
“Hi Chloe. I take it from the message you left me that the interview didn’t go well.”
“It went just fine,” I replied. “He offered me the job.”
“Oh. You sounded kind of downbeat in the message. Anyway, that’s excellent news. We all knew you’d do it. When do you start?”
“Tomorrow. Should I come into the office to prepare?”
“No, don’t worry about any of that. Just treat it like the first day of a normal job.”
“What about… you know, listening devices and that kind of thing.”
“None of that on the first day,” Lois replied. “I expect Denton will keep everything above board, but he may be keeping an eye out for bugs. Gain his trust first, then we can worry about getting the evidence. This is a part of a long operation. I’ve been trying to take down the Russells for most of my career. We’re not going to blow it for the sake of a few weeks or months.”
“Understood. I’ll take my time.”
“You’re going to do just fine. Let’s arrange a catch up meeting in a week though. It’ll have to be somewhere discreet in case you’re followed. I’ll send an email to your private account.”
“Thanks Lois.”
I had to get back home as soon as possible. Only a few hours had passed from when I had sat outside Denton’s office waiting for the interview. In that time, I’d interviewed for a job working for a renowned gangster while undercover as an FBI agent, been rejected for that job and wallowed in self-pity, and then been told I did in fact have the job and would start tomorrow.
As mornings went, that one was fairly stressful.
I tried to take Lois’ advice on board, by treating this like a normal job. The second I was home, I checked my wardrobe and laid out my clothes ready for tomorrow. The Bureau had provided me with five or six outfits that were considered appropriate attire for someone on a PA’s salary.
Lois had warned me not to dress too extravagantly because it would arouse suspicion. She must not have student debt anymore, because if she thought I had the money to wear expensive clothes and jewelery then she was very much mistaken.
The clothes might not have been expensive, but they were certainly sexy. Someone at the agency had gone to a lot of trouble to find clothes that fit me perfectly and hugged my figure. There was even a box full of underwear--the bras fit better than the ones I bought myself.
Lois and I had only briefly discussed what to do if Denton made a move on me. It was a distinct possibility. Denton had a reputation as a ladies’ man, and I had been given a makeover specifically to look like a women we knew he was attracted to.
Part of the job was to gain Denton’s trust, and if I had to do that by being easy on the eyes and flashing him a cheeky smile once every now and again then so be it. But what if he wanted more than that?
I didn’t have to do anything, but if I didn’t refuse him delicately the operation might collapse. And I would refuse him. I had to. My job was important to me, but I couldn’t sleep with someone on the off chance that it might lead to a conviction.
Did that still matter if I was also attracted to him? What if he was someone I would have slept with if it weren’t for the case?
Denton wasn’t my type, but I couldn’t deny being distracted by his looks the entire time I was in there. The blood on his knuckles didn’t disgust me, it aroused me. That was… unusual to say the least.
I usually found fighting to be oafish and distinctly unattractive. In this case, it should have been even more repulsive because he wasn’t just a drunk in a brawl, he was a criminal and part of a huge gang that controlled half the city.
There was little point dwelling on what I might or might not do should he hit on me. He wouldn’t. I’d seen the women he’d been with. I’d seen Kara. I might look a bit like her, but I had none of her sex appeal. She was like the female version of Denton; photogenic and sexy, even when not making any effort.
I hated women like that.
When I lay in bed that night, I kept reciting my fake background in my head until I fell asleep. I was Chloe Tamworth. I used to work for a Fortune 500 company in New York, and for a fashion magazine. I hate the police, because they killed my father.
That was the lie I struggled with most of all. The police didn’t kill my father. Not even close.
-*-
Lois needn’t have worried too much about security here. After arriving at nine on the dot, the human resources team quickly took my picture and issued me an ID. I logged onto the computer system and was ready to go in less than an hour.
Denton hadn’t even arrived for work yet. Did he always come in late? Perhaps his routine involved doing the rounds and beating people up first thing in the morning to get the blood pumping before a day of office work. Some people went to the gym, others beat the living shit out of people. I’d stick to the treadmill.
I already had access to his calendar, but most of the entries were suitably cryptic. There was rarely an address, just the name of a person to “meet for lunch” or an even more generi
c “sales call.”
Goosebumps appeared on the back of my neck before spreading down my spine as I imagined just what those meetings would entail. Even worse, I would be helping him keep track of them.
Don’t forget your four o’clock beating of the O’Leary twins, sir. You’ll want to take your golf clubs for this one. Oh, and at nine o’clock tonight you need to be waiting outside the country club to kidnap Mrs. White for her husband’s failure to repay his debts. Would you like a coffee?
I told myself that most of the people on the receiving end of these beatings were likely criminals as well, but not all of them would be. Some of them just got in over their heads and couldn’t think of a way out. I knew that from personal experience.
My desk was just outside Denton’s office, so I would always be in yelling distance, ready to answer to any of his demands the second he called. Other than that, I couldn’t complain too much. Unlike at the Bureau, no one could walk behind my desk which meant I had a decent amount of privacy should I want to spend a few minutes browsing the Internet instead of working.
I also had two large flatscreen computer monitors that put the FBI equipment to shame. If that’s what I had as a PA, I dreaded to think what the important people had access to.
Suddenly a hush descended over the office, and the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard became pronounced instead of just adding to the background noise.
Denton was here.
Everyone said good morning to him as he walked past, but they were tense, and nervous greetings, as opposed to heartfelt messages. He returned a few mumbled replies, but looked like he’d rather just ignore everyone.
I reminded myself that not all the employees here were guilty of any fraudulent behavior. A few of them had to be involved in helping cook the books, but most people were just going about their jobs, clueless to the bigger picture.
I now realized why no one had batted an eyelid at Denton’s bloody knuckles yesterday. Denton scared people. You didn’t ask questions of someone like Denton; you kept your head down and hoped he didn’t notice you. That wouldn’t be possible for me.
Denton headed straight towards his office, looking straight above my head as if I weren’t there. My heart rate increased the closer he got. I wasn’t scared of him. I didn’t feel in any immediate physical danger, although if he found out I worked for the FBI….
Revenge: A Bad Boy Romance Page 3