Chance Encounter

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Chance Encounter Page 16

by Christy Reece


  Kacie pulled the mic off the collar of her dress and stood. Though she loved many things about her chosen profession, press conferences were one of her least favorite tasks. She understood the necessity for them and certainly appreciated good press when it came her way. However, she always worried about what might be asked. Especially since she had more than enough secrets to fill every tabloid for months if they were ever discovered.

  “Well, other than that small bit of unpleasantness near the end, I believe that went quite well,” Julian said.

  What a pleasure to work with someone who was not only brilliant but a genuinely kind person, too. The minute she’d seen him today, she had thanked him again for his support and not withdrawing his offer because of her past. He had shushed her immediately and, with a twinkle in his eyes, told her he was just glad she had survived so she could wear his masterpieces.

  Kacie shook his hand, about to apologize for Lorrance’s disgusting and inappropriate question, when Brennan came to stand beside her. She halted abruptly when he caught her elbow and looked down at the designer, who was an inch or two shorter than Kacie. Brennan’s overwhelming presence would’ve intimidated most people. Julian Montague wasn’t one of them.

  “Mr. Sinclair, what a pleasure to meet you.”

  “It’s good to meet you, too, sir. I apologize for the question about my past.”

  “You owe me no apologies. That man is a hideous toad and will not be invited back to any of my press conferences.”

  “You got that right,” Brennan muttered softly. He said it so quietly she knew Julian hadn’t heard him, but she had, along with his tone of satisfaction.

  As he continued to talk with the designer, his voice pleasant and friendly, she knew a moment of amazement. He sounded as relaxed as any man talking football with another guy, but she felt the tension in his body—he was positively vibrating. He was furious, and she suspected he’d done something about, or to, Lorrance, but he was somehow able to control the anger. That kind of control was both fascinating and scary. And okay, a little hot, too.

  “We’d love to have dinner when we return. Wouldn’t we, darling?”

  Brennan squeezed her arm, reminding her to stay in the moment. Julian had asked them to dinner at his house when they returned from Barbados.

  “Yes, thank you. We’d love to come.”

  “Fine…fine. I’ll have my assistant set it up.” He glanced down at his watch. “Now I must go. Meetings to go to, people to devour.” He grinned at his own humor, air-kissed Kacie, shook Brennan’s hand again, and then was gone.

  The instant she was sure no one could hear them, she asked, “What did you do about Lorrance?”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Making it clear she wouldn’t get anything else from him until they were alone, he took her elbow and gently but inexorably guided her to the exit.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Brennan ushered Kacie into the elevator and pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, where her foundation offices were housed. He’d answered her questions about what he’d done about Carlton Lorrance as best he could under the circumstances. She didn’t need to know just how ruthless he could be. Soon, Carlton Lorrance would have much more to worry about than an exposé on a former sports figure. He’d be too busy trying to cover his own ass.

  “You have six employees working here. Correct?”

  Kacie nodded. “Five full-time, one part-time. When we have a major fundraiser, like we had a few weeks ago, we bring in temps.”

  “How many temporary employees did you bring in for that?”

  “I’ll have to check with Molly, but I think maybe about ten.”

  The list of suspects continued to grow. Even though most of them could be eliminated fairly easy, it was still a time-consuming process that could take time away from focusing on the most likely suspects. McCall had said that he was devoting substantial manpower hours to discovering the identity of this dirtbag.

  Another thing to admire about McCall. Rescuing kidnapped victims might be LCR’s main focus, but when their help was needed elsewhere, he held nothing back.

  “Listen, Brennan,” Kacie was saying, “I know everyone needs to be checked out, but I thoroughly vetted these people. Even the temporary employees have to go through a stringent background check. I don’t do that just for me—I do it for the charity. There are too many people willing to exploit others for their own gain. I make sure my employees always have our clients’ best interests in mind.”

  “Your background check is extensive—I’ve seen it, and it’ll be helpful in ruling everyone out. However, you have certain parameters…lines you can’t cross.”

  She frowned up at him, and despite his best intentions, Brennan couldn’t resist using his fingers to smooth the cute little line that appeared at the bridge of her nose. Damn. Had he ever touched skin this soft and silky?

  “Brennan?”

  The frown deepened, but her eyes glinted with the same heat he’d seen the other day when they’d kissed. It was all he could do not to bend down and take those luscious lips with his own.

  Mind on your job, Sinclair.

  Dropping his hand, he turned from temptation, facing the elevator door again. “You’re looking for a good, dependable employee, so your focus is on that. I’m looking for someone with criminal intent. Our perspectives differ.”

  He didn’t add that he had ways of digging deeper than most people knew was possible. And based on what McCall had said, they could dig deeper still. Because of their combined resources, Brennan felt sure that they’d find this asshole soon. Problem was, would it be soon enough?

  The doors slid open, and Kacie stepped out, Brennan close behind her. It had been a long time since she’d had anyone get this close to her, either physically or emotionally. But with Brennan, it had happened extraordinarily easy. Odd, since he wasn’t exactly an easy man. Those dark, brooding eyes saw through even her most practiced façade.

  They walked into the office and were instantly greeted as if their visit had been anticipated.

  “Kacie, I saw the interview. It was so awesome! You did a great job and you looked great, too.”

  She smiled at the effervescent young woman standing before her. What Molly Rowe lacked in age and height, she made up for in efficiency and skills. Though Kacie had been a little hesitant hiring someone so young, Molly had more than proven her worth.

  “Thank you, Molly. It went very well.” She turned to Brennan. “I’d like you to meet Brennan Sinclair.”

  In her cheerful, straightforward way, Molly took a step forward and held out her hand to Brennan. “It’s great to meet you. I’m not one for football, but my foster dad is a huge fan. Would it be too much trouble to get a photo of us together?”

  Brennan returned her handshake. “It’d be my pleasure.”

  “Gosh, thanks.” She called over her shoulder. “Hey, guys, he’s here.”

  Like a gaggle of excited geese, five people exploded from the conference room, practically falling over themselves to be first.

  Kacie laughed at their enthusiasm. “Now, why is it you guys don’t act that way when I show up by myself?”

  Tammy Peterson, their computer and technical wizard, snorted inelegantly. “You’re just a world-famous model. Brennan Sinclair is a legend.”

  “Then allow me to introduce you to a legend.” She turned to Brennan who, she was pleased to see, was taking their slobbering adoration in stride.

  “Brennan, this brood of over-excited juveniles is the office staff for the Kacie Dane Foundation.

  “This is Tammy Peterson, our computer genius and self-proclaimed goddess of all things mechanical. And Marta Croft, our accountant and self-proclaimed princess of numbers.”

  She nodded her head to the middle-aged man to the right of Marta. “This is Stewart Lakes, our adman and…” She stopped and frowned. “What’s your unofficial title?”

  He grinned and answered in a bullfrog-gruff voice, “King of
All I Survey.” The grin widened. “It’s a work in progress.”

  Kacie looked at the elderly woman standing beside Stewart. “And this is Hazel Johnson, the office manager who keeps everyone in line and on point.”

  Brennan shook Hazel’s hand. “And what’s your self-proclaimed title?”

  Her watery gray eyes twinkling, she said, “Why, I’m Duchess of It All, of course.”

  Kacie proudly took in her small group of employees. The foundation had come a long way from one woman’s vague goal of I’ve got to make a difference to this small but incredibly dedicated group of employees. She loved them all and felt fortunate to have them on her staff. The charity ran like a well-oiled machine, and it was all due to them.

  Tara appeared at the door of the conference room and said, “We’re ready for you.”

  “Ready for me?” Her eyes took in the small group. They were practically dancing with excitement. “What’s up?”

  “Come this way.”

  Molly led her to the conference room and opened the doors. Kacie gasped as she took in the décor. It was filled with balloons, and the instant she stepped inside, confetti dropped from the ceiling, swirling slowly around her like tiny, glittering stars.

  “Surprise!” Voices shouted from behind her.

  Kacie whirled around. “What on earth? It’s not my birthday, is it?”

  A goofy, sweet smile appeared on Tara’s face. “You didn’t think we were going to just pretend this Montague deal was just another job, did you?”

  “You guys…this is so sweet.”

  “We’re so excited for you, Kacie,” Molly said. “There was no way we were going to pretend this wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Lunch is here!” Stewart called out.

  Everyone gathered in the conference room while workers from one of Kacie’s favorite Italian restaurants brought in a catered lunch.

  Kacie sat between Tara and Marta, answering questions and chowing down on delectable lasagna and breadsticks. Brennan sat across from her, between Molly and Stewart. Kacie couldn’t decide who was asking him the most questions. But he was taking it all in stride, seeming to enjoy himself just as much as everyone else. Another thing she liked about Brennan was his ability to blend into whatever scenario he faced.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I brought those items from the drugstore you asked me to get.”

  Tara’s soft voice reached only Kacie’s ears, for which she was glad. After that amazingly hot kiss the other day, Kacie couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities of going further with this newfound sexual need Brennan had uncovered inside her. When she’d talked to Tara a few hours later, she’d asked her to pick up a few things at the pharmacy, including condoms.

  Not having been in a physical relationship since before her attack, the need for birth control had never been on her radar. Although Brennan hadn’t repeated those delicious kisses, and might not want her in that way, she couldn’t stop thinking about all the possibilities. For the first time in years, she wanted intimacy with a man. She wanted his mouth on hers, his hands roaming all over her body. She wanted that hot, hard male part of him she’d felt pressing into her bottom the other day. She wanted to taste him, feel him inside her.

  “I put some in your bedroom nightstand, his nightstand, your office, the weight room, and in the kitchen.”

  “The kitchen?” Kacie practically squeaked. Glancing around to make sure no one had heard her, she whispered, “The kitchen? Seriously?”

  “Yes, in the drawer where you keep your candles.” Tara laughed. “You never know where you’ll be when the mood might hit you. Best to be prepared for wherever.”

  A vivid image of Brennan lifting her up on the kitchen countertop and Kacie wrapping her legs around his waist while he—

  “Why Kacie Dane, are you blushing?” Tara’s teasing voice pulled her from her lust-filled thoughts.

  “It’s a little warm in here, don’t you think?”

  “Ha. Only when you’re looking at six and a half feet of manly gorgeousness.” Her voice went even softer. “If you want to cool down, take a look at Stewart.”

  Kacie did, then inwardly winced. Stewart had never done or said the least inappropriate thing, but she’d caught him more than once with a puppy-dog expression of adoration on his craggy face. She hoped it would never materialize into anything more than a crush. She would hate to lose him. Stewart was a brilliant adman who’d had a successful career at one of the most prestigious advertising companies in New York. He had retired early and claimed he wanted his second career to really count for something.

  Molly stood. “Attention, everyone. I just wanted to say how very proud we are of Kacie, and”—she looked at Kacie—“I know I speak for everyone here when I say that we’re blessed to know you. And, as I’m sure Kacie and Brennan probably want to go have a little celebration of their very own, let’s cut the cake.”

  A beautiful six-layer cake with butter cream icing was rolled in, and Kacie oohed and aahed. The surface of the cake had one of her favorite photos from a jewelry commercial she did last year.

  “This is just too much. I can’t imagine working with brighter, more talented, or kinder people than you guys.”

  Before she could go all teary-eyed again, Kacie cut large slices of cake, and Tara passed them out. Though she was stuffed, she took several small bites so no one would be offended.

  “We’ll wrap up some to take with you,” Molly said.

  “Thanks, Molly.” Kacie stood and was about to issue another round of appreciation when a hand grabbed her arm. She looked down at Marta, who had an unusually solemn expression on her face.

  “What’s up?”

  “Can we talk a few minutes…privately?”

  “Sure thing.” She glanced at Brennan, who’d apparently heard the request. He shook his head slightly and stood, too. Outside her apartment, he wouldn’t let her go anywhere without him, and while she appreciated the protection, she didn’t agree with his need to be in on a meeting with her sixty-eight-year-old accountant.

  “I’ll be fine, Brennan. Stay here and visit with everyone. We’ll be right back.”

  Silly her had forgotten whom she was dealing with. With an arrogant arch of an ink-black eyebrow, along with a remember what we talked about look, Brennan said, “That’s okay. I’ll be glad to come, too.”

  Making a big deal out of it would cause both concern and speculation, neither of which she wanted. So, putting her smile in place, she said, “Sure, come right along.”

  The three of them went out the door, and Kacie was pleased that the party conversation continued, without any seeming disruption or questions.

  The instant the door closed behind them, Marta said, “I don’t want to worry you, Kacie, not when you have so much on your mind, but I have something I need to show you.”

  Her irritation with Brennan was completely forgotten. The look on Marta’s face gave her a grim warning that, once more, a day that had been going so well was about to turn sour.

  Brennan apparently agreed, because he took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Steady. It might be nothing.”

  She nodded and, still holding Brennan’s hand, she followed Marta into the office she shared with Stewart.

  Marta closed the door and then went to Stewart’s desk. “I was looking for a black pen this morning—mine are all red, for some reason. Anyway, I know Stewart keeps an assortment in his desk and figured he wouldn’t mind me borrowing one. I opened his bottom drawer and found these.”

  She opened the drawer and withdrew a folder. “I wouldn’t have even opened it except one of the photographs slid out, showing half your face. I recognized you immediately.”

  Placing the folder on the desk, she opened it to reveal dozens of photographs—all of Kacie. Some were of her jogging, a few of them had been taken at parties. At least a dozen of them were from a campaign she’d done last year for a swimsuit designer. The photos were neither explicit nor distasteful. But whoever h
ad taken them had been at the shoot. These weren’t professional pictures from a talented photographer, but candid shots.

  Kacie’s mouth went dry. Was Stewart stalking her? Was he responsible for all of this? Did he somehow find out she was Kendra Carson and planned to blackmail her? If so, how had he gotten still shots of her with Harrington? And was he honestly capable of murdering Dr. Curtis?

  Kacie shook her head. “This makes no sense. Stewart just isn’t a stalker kind of person.”

  “We’ll discuss later what a stalker kind of person looks like,” Brennan said, “but for now, tell me which photograph is the latest one that you can remember.”

  Taking a breath to steady her jittery nerves, Kacie went through each shot, able to identify by the outfit she was wearing where and when it had been taken. Most of them seemed to be from last year. She came to the last one, and her breath hitched.

  “What?” Brennan asked.

  Holding up a photograph by the corner, she said, “This is the latest one.”

  “When and where were you?”

  “It was the day I was attacked in the park. The first time I heard the words ‘He’s coming for you.’”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Brennan hustled Kacie into the waiting taxi. After Marta had shown her the photographs in Stewart’s desk, she’d been noticeably subdued. Since he didn’t want anyone questioning why, he’d suggested they leave immediately. The excuse that they had to pack for Barbados was as good as any. Apparently, no one had detected anything off. They’d all waved cheerfully as he and Kacie headed into the elevator.

  Marta seemed to have perked up once she’d revealed her discovery. After Kacie assured her that it was most likely a silly crush that Stewart would get over, Marta acted as if she totally agreed and there was nothing to worry about.

  Brennan knew differently. Stalkers were unpredictable. Could this really be just a silly crush? Was Stewart just a lonely older guy who’d developed an affection for a beautiful, vivacious woman?

 

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