by Talia Hunter
He’d taken her to his island to make sure it didn’t change things between them. Only it had. She hadn’t reacted to the reality of his fortune in the same way as his family, but his money had still driven a wedge between them. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, or if there was anything he could do. All he knew was he wanted to try.
“Send Derrick in,” he said to Freya.
Whatever this was about, he’d wrap it up fast, then surprise Meghan at the place she was staying. It was a small apartment in a bad area, so she was obviously trying to make her money last. That fact alone was enough to make him fret. The least he could do was pay for her to stay somewhere safe. Why couldn’t she bend that rigid will of hers for long enough to let him?
“I have bad news.” Derrick looked even more sour than usual, and he didn’t sit down. “I have a contact in Lex’s organization who told me Lex has made a sudden change to the way his projector lenses fit together.”
Jackson leaned back in his chair, wrenching his mind from Meghan with an effort. “So?”
“My contact showed me the change.”
“Isn’t that unethical?”
Derrick made an impatient noise. “The change he made? It’s this.” He stabbed a diagram on the whiteboard, squeezed in between the mathematical formulas that were the core of Jackson’s new compression algorithm. “Lex changed his lenses to fit together exactly as you have them here. He must have been given your design.”
“What?” Jackson frowned. “That’s impossible.”
“There’s only one way he could have got this information. You let that woman in here. She saw it, didn’t she?”
Lex couldn’t have gotten that diagram from Meghan. And Jackson would bet a fortune nobody in the small team that had worked on the lens technology would give it away either. They’d worked for him for years, and he knew them too well.
“I trust Meghan,” he said. “Besides, she has no idea what any of this is.”
“That’s exactly how I know it was her. Look at everything else on the board. It’s all complex equations and notes she’d never understand. But this?” Derrick pointed at the drawing. “Anyone could draw this after studying it for five minutes. She wouldn’t even have had to take a photo of it.” There was a glint in Derrick’s eye that looked strangely like triumph. “I warned you, Jackson, but you wouldn’t listen. She sold it to him. There’s no other explanation.”
“That’s impossible.” Jackson got to his feet impatiently. “Meghan wouldn’t sell Lex anything.”
“Then how else could he have gotten it? She was dirt poor and desperate. I bet she made a small fortune out of the deal.”
“It couldn’t have been her. She’s not interested in money.”
“Then he must have offered her something else.”
He offered her a recording contract.
Jackson’s chest tightened. But no, if she wouldn’t accept his help, she sure as hell wouldn’t take Lex’s. She didn’t want any handouts to get ahead.
But hadn’t Lex also threatened her? Jackson couldn’t know for sure, because she hadn’t wanted to tell him exactly what Lex had said.
“She screwed you, just like my ex-wife screwed me.” Derrick clapped his hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Good thing I’m back on board, because you need me more than ever. He might be copying the way we’ve placed our lenses, but he doesn’t have anything else. And now I’m going to make doubly sure our security is tight, with no more leaks.”
Jackson put both fists on the desk and leaned over it, his mind racing. Could Meghan really have sold the diagram to Lex? He’d have sworn on his life she was trustworthy. But he hadn’t thought his brother would turn on him either.
What about the other members of the team? No, he paid them all too well for them to sell him out and risk their jobs. Derrick too. His operations manager got a handsome salary, so surely he wouldn’t have sold the diagram to Lex.
But the fact was, Jackson couldn’t really trust anyone, could he? Not the people who’d worked for him for years. Not his family. And not Meghan either, although he wanted to trust her more than anyone. And that longing made him weak.
He clenched his jaw. “Make sure everything’s locked down, Derrick. You’ll need to talk to the team tomorrow. Let them know part of our product’s been exposed.”
His operations manager stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. I always do, don’t I? You can count on me to make sure there are no more nasty surprises before the release.”
Jackson didn’t like the smug look on his face. He called for Freya to see Derrick out, then grabbed the keys for the Aston.
Freya was coming back to the study as he headed to the garage. “Is everything all right, Mr. Brent?” she asked.
“Not really. According to Derrick, somebody sold part of my new product to Lex.”
“Do you know who?”
“Derrick thinks it was Meghan.”
“Meghan?” She blinked, then recovered her composure. Even that tiny display of emotion was unusual for Freya. But Meghan had spent her days here while Jackson was at the conference, and they’d obviously got on well enough for Freya to have an opinion.
“You don’t think it was her?” His voice was more hopeful than he’d meant it to be. But if someone had sold him out, he found himself hoping it was anyone but her.
“What matters is whether you think so.”
He sucked in his breath. “There has to be a way to find out the truth. I’m not ruling out Derrick or a member of my development team, but I’m going to talk to Meghan now. If I ask her outright, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to tell if something’s up.”
Freya stepped aside and let him go. But when Jackson got to the apartment Meghan had rented, there was nobody home. And when he called her phone, it went straight to voice mail. Shit. Where was she? He tried her phone again, pacing in front of her door. Logically, he should calm down and go home. Talk to her tomorrow. Only his chest was tight and he couldn’t make himself get back in his car. He kept thinking about that awful day when his brother had turned on him. It had felt just like this.
He had to see her. Now.
Making his mind up, he dialed Freya’s number.
“I need to find Meghan,” he told her. “Easiest way is to get a team out looking for her Toyota, see if they can find where it’s parked. Call a private investigator and get them on it now. Tonight.” He ran his hand through his hair, hating the hard edge in his voice.
“Right away,” said Freya. He couldn’t detect any hint of a question in her tone, when by rights she should be questioning his sanity.
“Remind me to give you a raise,” he said.
“I’ll add it to tomorrow’s schedule, Mr. Brent.”
He hung up and leaned against Meghan’s door, feeling like a cross between a stalker and a psychopath. But he couldn’t just go home, not until he’d asked Meghan about the theft.
Even if she had done it, there would have had to be a damn good reason. Whatever Lex had threatened her with had to be serious. He couldn’t believe Meghan was like his brother. If she had been pushed into betraying him, she wouldn’t have done it lightly.
He held onto that belief while he waited for Freya to call him back. His thoughts went round and round and the tightness in his chest only got worse. The longer he leaned against Meghan’s door and the darker it got, the more he cursed himself for letting his guard down in the first place. Why hadn’t he paid for a hotel for her that first day? Why take her back to his place? Why give her a job that any of the women in his black book could have done?
By the time his phone rang, he was pacing in front of Meghan’s door like a tormented animal. He snatched it up. “You found her?”
Freya’s voice was as calm as ever. “Her car’s outside the Rusty Frog Tavern.” As she gave him the address, he was already sliding back into his car.
Ten minutes later, he walked into the bar and Meghan�
�s velvet voice enveloped him. She was in one corner of the big room, singing and playing guitar. She’d clipped back her long dreadlocks on one side, and was wearing a dark lipstick that accentuated the shape of her mouth. Most of the bar’s patrons were clustered around the bar, talking, drinking, and joking with each other in loud voices. Were they blind, deaf, and dumb? How could they be ignoring her? She was breathtaking, and her voice was achingly beautiful.
Only one man seemed to have his whole attention focused on Meghan. A tall, brown-haired man sat alone at a table by the stage, sipping a beer and watching her sing.
Jackson stopped in the shadows, fists clenched and heart thumping. Could she have betrayed him? Everything inside him fought against the idea. But he’d felt the same way when he’d discovered his brother’s stealing had begun on the very first day he’d started working for Jackson. As badly as the truth had hurt, he’d had to come to terms with it.
When the last notes of the song she was singing faded, he moved forward into Meghan’s line of sight.
She stepped away from the microphone, eyes widening. His fists clenched harder at her beaming smile. Could she look that happy to see him if she’d betrayed him? No, he refused to believe it. But he still had to ask.
“Jackson. Hi. What are you doing here?” Her voice was breathless, her eyes sparkling. “Have you come to see me sing?”
His guts twisted. “I need to talk to you.” His inner turmoil made his tone harsh, and she blinked, her smile disappearing.
“I’ve only just started. You caught me on my second song. Want to sit down and have a drink in the meantime? I’ll take a break in about an hour.”
“This can’t wait.”
She frowned and shot a glance toward the bar. “This is my first day. I don’t want to make a bad impression.”
“Somebody sold Lex a diagram of my projector lens placement.” He studied her face, searching her expression and finding only puzzlement. “There’s a drawing of it on the whiteboard in my office, and somehow Lex got hold of it.”
Her brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with me?” Then the pitch of her voice rose. “Are you accusing me of stealing it? Is that why you’re here?”
He made himself keep going. Once he was sure, then he could stop feeling like this, all twisted up inside. “I’m here because I need to ask if you sold it to him.”
Her cheeks flushed, and her body was suddenly vibrating with anger. “You needed to ask me if I gave your secret thingee-whatsit to a man I despise? You think I wanted a hundred thousand dollars so badly I’d sell you out for it?”
“No. But you might want a recording contract that badly.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Especially because Meghan took the words like a punch, her body flinching, and her expression changing to a look of horror.
“Because scamming my way to the top is the only way I’ll ever be successful? Screw you, Jackson.”
The words echoed around the room, and he realized the microphone had picked them up. Everyone in the bar was staring. Fuck.
The man who’d been sitting alone at the table in front of the stage stood up. “Hey,” he said in a belligerent tone. “What’s your problem, asshole?”
Jackson rounded on him. “This is private. Not your business.”
The man put his hands on his hips. “I’m making it my business. Leave Meg alone and get out of here.”
“Meg?” Jackson turned to Meghan. “You know him?”
Stepping away from the microphone, Meghan made a dismissive gesture. “That’s Trey. My ex-boyfriend.”
Jackson stiffened. The ex-boyfriend she’d complained so bitterly about was watching her sing as though they were still together? Hadn’t she called him a rat-fink bastard piece of shit?
“And who the hell are you?” Trey leaned in, getting in Jackson’s face.
“Trey, would you stop it? Just get out of here.”
Trey glowered at Jackson. The guy was obviously still at least half in love with Meghan. Could she have lied to Jackson about him? If he really had cheated on her and stolen her song, why would he be here?
“Go,” ordered Meghan, pointing at the door.
The guy gave Jackson a final glare. “We can talk later, Meg.” Then he turned and sauntered out.
“If you only came here to accuse me, please leave,” said Meghan. “And by the way, Trey being here is not what you think.”
“You two are back together?”
“Of course not. He came here to talk and apologize for being a jerk, that’s all. But I suppose you don’t believe me about that, either.”
“What am I supposed to think when I see him here?”
“You’re supposed to give me at least a little credit, after everything we’ve shared together.” She looked pissed as hell. “But I guess now I know how little faith you have in me.”
“I came here to talk, to ask you straight out, because I believe in you. I want to believe putting my trust in you is the right thing to do..” He shook his head. “You don’t make it easy.”
“I don’t…?” She choked on her next words, her face red with anger. “Please go. I have to finish my set.”
“I can wait. We can talk again once you’re done.”
“No, Jackson, you need to leave. If you don’t go, I’ll be too angry to sing. And as we both know all too well, I really need this job. So go.”
“Meghan, listen.”
“You know what?” She stabbed him in the chest with one finger. “I’d rather sleep in my car and be able to trust people than have a swimming pool full of cash and think everyone’s trying to cheat me.”
“Then you know better people than I do.” The words came out bitter and hard. His money had made the problem worse, but his family hadn’t needed the excuse of his fortune to betray him. They’d been doing it all his life.
“Please, just go.” She stepped back to the microphone. “Sorry about that, folks. Let’s get back to the music, okay?” Pointedly turning her body away from Jackson, she started strumming her guitar.
He hesitated, then took another look around. The bartender was frowning at them with his arms folded. The crowd murmured, their attention on him. This wasn’t the time or place for an argument. And she was right, he was messing up her first night.
Time to go. He needed to cool off and think about what had happened. Rushing down here while he was agitated had been a bad idea.
Thing was, no matter how Lex had gotten hold of his diagram, it had confirmed one thing. If Jackson got close to anyone, his money would always be an issue. The only way around it would be to stick with the women in his little black book. They knew how things stood and wouldn’t push for more. His money would define the terms of any relationship anyway, so why not embrace it instead of trying for something he couldn’t have?
Part of the reason he’d been so successful was knowing which battles to fight. Which he could win. And as hard as it would be to let Meghan go, maybe it was a price he’d have to pay.
Twenty
Watching Jackson leave the bar, Meghan tried to blink away tears, but the effort of keeping herself from crying made her throat tight. Instead of rich and full, her voice came out like a nail file sliding across sandpaper. And behind the bar, Steve didn’t look happy.
Sure enough, he came over as she finished the song. Swallowing hard, she put her guitar down. If only she had a handkerchief to pat her eyes dry. Wiping them with her fingers was probably smearing her mascara all over her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked, though she got the feeling he was only asking to be polite and didn’t really want to know.
“Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll be okay in just a minute.” She willed her tears away with everything she had. If only her anger hadn’t released its grip, she would have been fine. But the feeling of loss was like a black hole had opened up inside her. After years of feeling like her career was going nowhere, to have Jackson imply she wasn’t good enough to get a recording contract
on her own had shaken her. What if he was right? What if she was wasting her time?
Steve cleared his throat. “Listen, Meghan—”
She interrupted quickly. “Look, I know this is unprofessional. I’m sorry. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll get myself together and finish the set without any more drama.”
He shook his head, his mouth twisted to one side. “I said I’d give you a chance, but this isn’t working out. Sorry. You’ve got a nice voice, but it’s the wrong vibe.”
“The wrong vibe,” she repeated slowly. A polite way to say he didn’t want a bawling singer with a raspy voice making a scene in his bar. She dragged in a breath, lifted her chin, and put her hand out to shake his. “Fair enough. Thanks for the opportunity anyway. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
It wasn’t until she was safely outside that she let herself curse. Heads turned as she spat out loud expletives, but her rage turned into more tears. After convincing someone to give her a chance, she’d managed to blow it.
She should have kept her cool. Thing was, when Jackson had walked in, her heart had expanded as though it was pumped full of helium. She’d realized her delighted grin had to look goofy, but hadn’t cared. The happiness she’d felt to see him had been the only thing that mattered. And in that moment, she’d known for sure that she was in love with Jackson Brent.
Which had made his accusation even harder to bear.
As many times as she’d tried to scale the mountain, she kept sliding right back to the bottom. So, should she finally give up and admit defeat? Should she find a nice, safe office job like her mother had always wanted? Or maybe she could ride on the coattails of Trey’s success by writing his songs and helping him have the career she’d always dreamed of.
She shook her head. “Screw you,” she muttered to herself. “I’m not doing that. I’m not beaten yet.”
Only what the hell was she going to do now?
Meghan slowly sipped a glass of white wine. It had a sharp, slightly unpleasant tang, probably because Geena had bought them both a glass of the cheapest wine the bar offered.