by It Girls
"What?"
"Tatiana must have tipped off Rubi. How else could she know we'd be at Hollow Hill?"
Tatiana and Rubi had gone clubbing a few times, and Tatiana was totally ticked about Renee replacing her with Chloe. Odds ran high Tatiana had tipped off Rubi, but they had no proof of it. Yet. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd listened to me but no, you were too worried about your money."
"Noted, but academic now." Emma snapped her mirror closed. "It probably was Tatiana, but since Mr. Brooks Brothers was on site, obviously people outside the G.R.C. knew we'd be there, too."
And there were a fair number of people between the Governess and the Roses. The Governess coordinated the Roses' assignments and issued her orders through Renee, but there were consultants, representatives and who knew who else gathering the intel she passed along.
"Wonder how many Roses knew where we'd be tonight?" Chloe asked. "Kristi lost it and shouted our plan at Tatiana."
"Sub-levels are soundproof," Jimmy reminded her.
"Bug heard it, for sure," Emma said, using her nickname for her best friend, Porsche Rothschild. "Samantha, too. Could have been others."
Likely many others. There were always women around. Tonight had gone south in a hurry. Considering the mission, that was worrisome. But honestly, all the missions carried significant risks to the Rose, to her standing in society, and sometimes— as in Madison's case— to her family. Yet the risks hadn't produced a shortage of willing heiresses, even though no one, not even family, could know of their activities. Which was why Chloe couldn't ask Erik why he'd been at Hollow Hill tonight. She'd expose herself.
Sometimes this secret life was hard.
"I can't see Porsche or any Rose agent saying a thing, much less calling Rubi. Besides, they wouldn't have a clue what they were reporting, because only Tatiana knew what we were doing."
Chloe thought about that. "The Rose agents are bright women, Emma. The way we're dressed, where we were going… They'll figure out more than you think— and far more than they should. Hell, they're agents. That's worth remembering."
Emma worried her lip with her teeth. "It was probably Tatiana." Sparks shot through Emma's eyes. "We'd better consider her the leak. We have too much to lose to risk not believing it."
And Tatiana would know it, and she would know she was risking exposure of all the Roses, including herself— which was why she might not have done it. "She's a social-status, power-hungry slut, but she's not stupid. Assuming she's guilty isn't really fair to her, either, Emma."
"For God's sake, think of the mess we're in. I'm sure enough to know we wouldn't be in it without her interference." Emma shook her head, worried her lip with her teeth. "Screw being fair. I should've shot her."
"What?" That from Jimmy. "Emma, you can't shoot another agent. What's wrong with you?" He glanced back at Chloe. "Just how much did she drink in the bar?"
"She's talking virtual, Jimmy." Chloe hoped she was right.
Emma's expression sobered then grew more serious and she frowned. "You sound so blasé about this. Do you truly understand what just happened?" Fear flickered in her eyes.
Chloe stiffened. Emma was the most courageous woman she had ever met in her life. If she was afraid, Chloe should be terrified. "What?" Chloe asked. "So Rubi got a photo. In tomorrow's column, she'll write that I've been drinking and partying too much again, and as short as this skirt is, I'll probably be staring at my red thong in the photo— " when the flash went off, she'd been stretching "— but that's not seriously atypical. It does mean— "
Out of patience, Emma interrupted. "Your mother is destined to lay another lecture from hell on you about what an embarrassment you are and what a waste you're making of your life, living off your inheritance and yada yada. You should really blow her mind and tell her the truth about what you do."
"Never." Chloe flatly refused. She'd ruin it. "The point is, it'll just be the usual irritation, and then it'll be over."
"No, it won't." Emma glared at her. "This isn't going to cause the usual upheaval or reactions. You haven't scraped the surface of all the hell that's coming because of this."
Chloe changed perspective to see the situation through Renee's eyes, and the truth sank in. Then came the fear, and her stomach flipped over and soured. "Oh no." She turned on the seat toward Emma, grasped her arm and squeezed. "Our covers have been blown."
Emma groaned. "Finally, she sees the light!"
Frowning, Chloe followed the linear thought. "We know we're after the Duke now, but we still don't know his identity— "
Emma nodded, lifted a hand, palm upward. "However, with Rubi's column…"
"Good grief." The fear turned to terror and ripped through Chloe's chest, up into her throat and burst out in a gasp. "The Duke will know ours."
Chapter 5
"Chloe St. John, get your hand out of that man's pants." Frank, who'd gotten up to help Jimmy carry Chloe's casualty inside, looked totally beside himself. "He can't do nothing for you, Princess. He's out cold."
Bent over a sprawled-on-her-sofa Mr. Brooks Brothers, she rolled her gaze heavenward. "I'm trying to get his wallet."
"What for?" Frank walked into the living room and stopped beside her.
"So I can find out who he is."
Frank's jaw dropped. "You got your hand down the pants of a man on your sofa and you don't know who he is?"
"No," she said, out of patience and realizing she looked like a fool. "I know who he is, I just don't know his name."
"Well, if you'd put your mind to what you're doing and not on getting into the man's pants, you'd likely figure out his wallet's in the inside pocket of his suit jacket."
Chloe jerked her hand back and stared at Frank.
He frowned, reached over and tapped the bulk outline of the wallet. "Right there."
"Oh, hell." She reached in and pulled out the wallet.
"Might I ask you one more question?"
"What?" Chloe asked, seriously considering kissing Frank, too. But she'd already removed the lip film.
"What's Jack gonna think about you fritzing around with another man?" Frank nodded down at Mr. Brooks Brothers.
Betrayal stung deep. "I don't expect it much matters, considering I caught him with another woman tonight." Chloe opened the wallet and saw a government ID card. Senior Special Agent Harrison Howell. No agency was mentioned, which seemed in keeping with a Governess representative.
"Jack was with another woman?" Shock rippled through Frank's voice. "I don't believe it."
"Believe it," Chloe said, sparing him a deadpan look. "I confronted him myself."
"Well, what did he say?"
A little embarrassed about giving in to her temper and knocking Jack out, she shrugged. "Nothing." She thought again. "Actually, I think it was, 'Oh, God.'"
"I expect he had a reason for not being honest with you, Princess." Frank nodded to add weight to his claim. "If he was cheating, I'd be happy to shoot him for you. But I think you should give him the benefit of doubt."
She frowned. "There is no reason for not being honest."
Getting her message, Frank turned the topic. "So who's this one. Why'd you knock him out?"
"I didn't." Chloe frowned. "Well, I guess I did, but I didn't do it on purpose."
"Uh-huh." Frank rubbed his chin and crossed his chest.
"I really didn't." She turned a weary look on Frank. "Can you just believe me and let it go? I swear it's all okay."
He stared at her a long second. "I can and will. But he's gonna wake up madder than a wet hornet."
"Damn right," she borrowed Frank's favorite phrase.
"Best take his gun." Frank walked to the door, heading for his own apartment on the floor below Chloe's. "Or at least steal his bullets."
Harrison had a gun? She looked down at his chest and peeking out from beneath his jacket she saw the holster. "Probably should— just until he cools off." She put the gun on the mantel, a safe distance away. Then she covered Harrison up
with a soft velvet throw and turned out the light.
*
Chloe changed into a pair of gray velvet Ralph Lauren slacks and top— the closest thing to sweats she owned. Wanting to be close by when Senior Special Agent Harrison Howell came to, she sat with her second cup of tea and a box of tissues in a chair in the corner of the living room and cried her heart out. How could Jack do this? Why would he do it to them? Things had been so good…
He was just like the rest of them. Couldn't trust him any farther than she could throw him. She'd been an idiot to do it. How many times would it take for her to get it through her head that no man who seemed to be romantically interested in her could be trusted?
By the time she'd gone through half a box of tissues and started on the second pot of tea, she wondered if Harrison Howell was ever going to wake up. She got up to check on him— maybe he'd had an adverse reaction to the drug or something. He had his arm thrown over his head, half-hiding his face, but his light snore was steady enough. He was sleeping, not dead.
The doorbell rang.
Chloe went rigid. The night security guard hadn't phoned up, which meant it had to be someone on her approved list. Erik maybe? Wondering why she'd been at Hollow Hill?
Possible. She walked to the door, depressed a button under a small screen and saw Jack standing outside. First thing tomorrow, she'd take him off her damn approved list.
Chloe unlocked the door and cracked it open. "What?"
He looked unsteady. The effect of the drug? "I can explain." His words slurred.
"Go ahead." Explain? How could he explain lying to her?
"Can I come in?"
She debated, then saw Mrs. Granger stick her head out her door across the hall and decided it'd probably be best. Stepping back, she allowed him space to come through the door.
He stumbled into the living room and his eyes widened at the sight of Brooks Brothers. "What is he doing here?"
"I'm not in the mood to answer your questions, Jack. You explain why you're not in London and why you were with another woman at Hollow Hill. That, I'm ready to hear."
"No, Chloe," he whispered, tugging her back to the entryway, his usual grace absent. "You don't understand. That man— "
"I understand plenty." She swallowed tears. "It's okay for you to be with another woman, but not for me to be with a man." She lifted a hand. "Screw that double standard, Jack."
"No." He reached for her, but she backed up. "Listen. Would you just listen?"
She crossed her arms, glared at him.
"Chloe, I want you to stay away from that man."
"Why?" He worked for the Governess. He was a Senior Special Agent. Next to Frank, he was the safest man on the planet— apparently, far safer than Jack.
Jack paused, closed his eyes and shook his head, then looked at her. "I can't tell you. But it's important, Chloe."
"Why were you at Hollow Hill?"
His expression soured. "I can't tell you that, either."
Anger surged through her stomach. "You can't tell me much of anything, can you?"
Jack looked her right in the eye. "I can tell you that you didn't see what you thought. That you need to stay away from that man. I can tell you he might be dangerous."
"Dangerous?" She scoffed. "Come on, Jack. Are you that desperate to get rid of him because he's shown interest in me?" A lie, but a safe one.
"Chloe, I'm nearly positive he's connected to an underground ring selling women into slavery."
Stunned, she couldn't move.
"Did you hear me?"
Struggling to calm down, she gave him a perplexed look. How did he know about this? How had he gotten involved? Why had he said he'd be in London when he was here, investigating this? "What are you talking about?"
Exasperated, Jack nudged her. "This is no time for games. I know why you were at Hollow Hill. I know Erik was there."
Chloe lifted her chin. "You know a lot of things, none of which make sense to me." True, as far as it went. Who'd turned him onto this story?
"Fine, then just listen to me." Jack dragged a hand through his hair. "Honey, I am concerned about everything that has anything to do with you. I care about you— and you care about me."
"You care? You lied to me, Jack. I suppose you care about the brunette you were with, too, right?"
"Well, yes— but not in the way you think."
Outraged, Chloe jerked open the door. "Go home, Jack."
"Will you be reasonable? I trusted you about Marcus, didn't I? Can't you afford me the same— "
"I never lied to you about Marcus. I never claimed I was leaving the country when I wasn't." Steamed, she elevated her voice. "I told you I couldn't tell you why I was pretending to be engaged to him. I didn't lie." She pointed out the door. "Go home, Jack. Go lie to someone else."
"Fine." He walked out into the hallway. "Call me when you get over your snit and get reasonable."
"Don't hold your breath." She started to close the door.
He blocked it with his foot, and looked at her through the crack. "One last thing."
She waited.
"I think that man on your sofa is working for the Duke."
*
"So what did you do?" Emma asked over the phone.
"I slammed the door." Chloe paced a path between the marbled countertops in her sleek kitchen.
"You didn't ask how he knew about the Duke?" Shock riddled Emma's voice.
Chloe pulled the phone away from her ear. "Now how the hell could I do that without admitting I knew who the Duke was?"
That took the wind out of Emma's sails. "I suppose you couldn't. He can't know Harrison works for the Governess."
"Obviously not."
"Chloe, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking Jack was there," she said on a swallowed sob. "I'm thinking he was with a brunette. I'm thinking he knows about the Duke, and he says he knew why we were there."
Emma gasped. "You think Jack's the Duke?"
God help her, she'd considered it. "It's possible. How else would he know all these things?"
"Oh, God," Emma said. "We need to talk to Renee."
"I've already phoned Olivia and set a meeting for first thing in the morning. Meet me at the G.R.C. at nine."
"It's two now," Emma said. "Is Mr. Brooks Brothers back from the dead?"
"Not yet." Why was that? He'd been out a lot longer than two hours.
"Is he breathing?"
"He's snoring." Chloe walked to the end of the room where she could see into the living room and confirmed it.
"Must be extremely sensitive to drugs. He's been out a lot longer than Jack was."
"Or Alan was worried I'd screw up and get into trouble. Maybe he fixed it so the dose of drugs on the film gets stronger with every freaking kiss."
"Either's possible," Emma conceded.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"If you'd make your damn training meetings, they wouldn't be worried."
She was right. "I'll see you at nine."
At 7:25 a.m., Harrison was still lights-out. Probably had gone from knocked out to sleeping naturally. Chloe sat bleary-eyed at the kitchen bar on a stool with the telephone at her ear and the newspaper opened to Rubi Cho's column, wondering if she could bribe Frank to put on the lip film and keep Rubi knocked on her ass for about a year. If he was willing to shoot Jack, surely he'd kiss Rubi. He liked Jack.
The photo was awful, but the comments were atrocious— and uncannily reminiscent of Tatiana's remarks at Gotham Rose Club last night. "What It girl princess was seen in the once-popular but now slightly seedy Hollow Hill last night, dressed in a black leather skirt that almost wasn't there?"
Chloe could cut Rubi's tongue out. And not one mention of Emma. Why was that?
Tatiana.
She turned her attention to her phone conversation as Adele Phillips, Chloe's partner in Adelphio, caught her up on their recent fabric acquisitions. Adele had paused for a response. Chloe said, "That soun
ds great— and we got the silks?" The supplier had been giving Adele fits for a week.
"We did— and at the reduced rate."
"Music to my ears." The phone beeped, signaling another call coming in. "Let me run, Adele."
"Okay, but don't forget to pick up your gown for the Halloween Ball. Or do you want me to just have it delivered?"
"Better deliver it."
"You've got it."
Chloe checked the caller ID. It was her mother calling. "It's going to be one of those days."
Chloe took a sip of steaming coffee— tea had ceased keeping her awake at about 4:00 a.m.— steeled herself, then clicked the flash button. "Good morning, Mother. How are you?"
"How do you think I am, Chloe?"
Oh, hell. Here it came. "I don't know. That's why I asked." Please don't let her know Erik was there, too.
"Don't be trite. I know you've seen Rubi's article. What are you doing to this family? Single-handedly destroying it?"
"No, Mother. I assure you, the destruction of anything is not my objective."
"Then what is?"
Oh, but she'd like to tell her. In graphic, vivid detail. But she couldn't. Not that her mother would believe her, anyway. "Is that it?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Chloe thumbed the rim of her cup. "If the only reason you called was to tell me I'd embarrassed the family again, then we can consider it done and get on with our day."
"Chloe, do not take that attitude with me. I am your mother."
"So what do you want, Mother?"
"I want you to stop doing thoughtless things that publicly reflect on the rest of this family, including your brother. He deserves better from you."
Erik deserved nothing from her. Less than nothing.
"I want you to do something constructive with your life. The only thing you do that is worthy of your crown is your charity work with Renee, and apparently you're failing at that, as well."
"I beg your pardon?" Chloe set her cup down. Hard.
"You certainly should. You do nothing else— nothing else, Chloe— and yet you raise a mere $2 million for the Women's Shelter? I sincerely hope that this date auction you're sponsoring tonight increases that to a respectable sum."