by Anna James
She lifted her hand for him to see. “The pieces of my mother’s jewelry box. It had been in her family for generations.”
“Did the thieves steal the jewelry inside?”
“That’s just it. There wasn’t anything in it at all. Dad kept her jewelry in the safe…” Her eyes widened. She jumped up and ran down the hall.
He found her standing in the hall at the door opening in Gil’s office a moment later, staring in wide-eyed horror at the boxes tossed all over the room. “Damn,” he muttered. The thieves had been in there, too.
She strode to the closet at the far end of the room and disappeared inside.
“What are you doing in there?” She didn’t answer so he walked over and peered in. “Sophia?”
She turned to face him. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure the thieves didn’t steal anything from the… Oh, no.”
“What is it?”
“The safe. It’s open.”
“Shit. Is anything missing?”
She pulled open the door wider and shuffled the contents around, seemingly taking inventory. “Dad’s custom Franck Mueller watch, a couple of gold rings.”
“Is that all?”
“No. Mom’s sapphire pendant is gone, too.” She removed several file folders and notebooks, then reached down into the belly of the safe and pulled out a sizeable decorative box.
“What’s in there?”
“Mom’s diamond, ruby and emerald sets.” She flipped open the lid and looked inside. Gemstones sparkled in the dim closet light. “It’s all here.”
The doorbell chimed.
Sophia replaced everything, closed the safe and spun the lock, he assumed to make sure it had engaged, then she turned to face him.
“That’ll be the police.”
Chapter Twelve
The blaring music from her alarm had Sophia bolting upright in bed. She rubbed her bleary eyes and tried to focus on the clock. Damn! Her meeting with Lucas Morgan was in less than an hour.
After a quick shower, she donned a professional suit and matching heels, applied a light blusher and lipstick and headed downstairs.
Her gaze landed on Dante’s sleeping form and she paused for a moment on the landing to watch the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. He seemed peaceful, serene almost—a far cry from the hostile, antagonistic personality he presented to her when awake. The hard lines of his face relaxed in sleep and instead of the frown that seemed a permanent part of his expression, his lips curved in a slight smile.
Her heart twisted. She missed his smile and the way his eyes sparkled with happiness every time he aimed it in her direction. It made her heart skip a beat and filled an empty space deep inside. Stupid, stupid, stupid! By hiding the truth from him, she’d destroyed the love that had been growing between them.
He stretched and flexed, making her acutely aware of his strong, muscular frame, then lifted his eyes to meet hers. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Damn. He’d caught her staring—again. “Morning,” she grunted, hurried past him into the kitchen and poured a much-needed cup of coffee, already brewed thanks to the coffee maker’s programmable feature.
He joined her a few minutes later and she handed him an empty mug. “There’s enough for another cup.”
He nodded. “Did you get any sleep? You were still working on the computer when I finished inventorying the upstairs.”
“Not much. Thanks again for helping me.”
“Having the list of artwork and antiques Gil had prepared for the insurance company was a big help.”
“I never thought we’d have to use it.”
“Why would you? You’ve got a top-of-the-line home security system.”
She took one last gulp, swallowed and placed the mug in the sink. “A lot of good it did me.” A horn tooted in the driveway. “That’ll be my cab.”
“Do you want me to stick around until the security representative gets here?”
She shook her head. “They’re not coming until ten o’clock.”
“I can watch the house and make sure the thieves don’t return.”
“Don’t worry about it. I doubt they’ll come back. Besides, the police are sending a car to patrol the neighborhood. I’ll get to the office as soon as I can.” The horn tooted again. “I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late. Lock up when you leave.”
That was just weird, she thought, and slipped into the back seat of the taxi. Why was Dante suddenly willing to help her? Nothing had changed between them.
Stop overthinking it and just be happy you’re not fighting with him, her brain dictated.
She arrived at her destination, the hotel where Lucas stayed while in town, five minutes early. He’d asked her to meet him in the restaurant so they could discuss her recommendations over a leisurely breakfast.
The hostess seated her at a table for two.
Forty-five minutes and two more cups of coffee later, Lucas had failed to appear. Where the heck was he? An image of Lucas flirting with Dante’s goddess came into her mind. Maybe he’d forgotten about their appointment? She took out the business card Lucas had given her the evening before and punched the number into her phone. The call went straight to voicemail so she left a message. Another fifteen minutes ticked by and still Lucas hadn’t arrived. Sophia sighed, paid the bill and strode to the front desk.
A young female clerk smiled politely. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please. My name is Sophia Hamilton and I’m supposed to meet one of your guests staying at the hotel, Lucas Morgan. Can you ring his room and let him know I’m here?”
The clerk frowned. “Mr. Morgan left over an hour ago.”
“Left? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I remember because he was grumbling his displeasure at having the location of a meeting changed at the last minute.”
She frowned. “I didn’t change the location.”
The clerk shook her head. “Maybe he referred to a different meeting?”
She doubted it. Who else would he have scheduled an early morning meeting with today? “Did Mr. Morgan mention where he was going?”
The woman pursed her lips. “No, but I think he headed to one of the coffee shops right around the corner. He mumbled something about hoping the pastry was up to snuff. There’s a string of coffee shops and bakeries within a four-block radius. Take a right after you exit the hotel, go down two blocks and turn right again.”
A wild goose chase, Sophia thought, but she had to try and find him. Pinning a bright smile on her face, she thanked the clerk and headed out.
“Good luck,” the clerk called as the double doors whooshed closed.
Once outside, Sophia glanced at her watch and cringed. Eight o’clock. Lucas had said he needed to leave for the airport by eight-thirty at the latest to catch his flight home and she still had to find him.
Twenty minutes and four coffee shops later, Sophia yanked open the heavy door at a little Italian bakery and sighed. The heavenly scents of sweet confections filled the air, but she had no time to enjoy them as a fit-to-be tied Lucas strode toward her.
“Where have you been? First, you inconvenience me by changing the meeting location, and then you keep me waiting,” he glanced at his watch, “for over an hour? I had heard good things about Baker Investments, but if this is how you treat your clients then—”
“I didn’t change the meeting place. I’ve been at the hotel, waiting, this whole time. I don’t know who called you, but it wasn’t me, or anyone from Baker.”
“Why didn’t you call my cell phone?”
“I did, but it went straight to voicemail.”
Lucas snatched his phone from its holder and let out a muffled curse. “I don’t have time to discuss anything with you. I need to leave for the airport, now.”
Sophia’
s shoulders slumped. How had this happened? No one knew about her meeting this morning except Dante, and he certainly wouldn’t have pulled a stunt like this.
Lucas moved past her toward the door.
“Wait,” Sophia called out. No way would she give up now. Not with all the time and effort that had gone into creating this proposal.
He stopped and turned to face her, his annoyance evident. “Here.” She handed him the report. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased with my recommendations. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have. I’ve included my contact information. You can reach me at any time. And…I’m sorry for the miscommunication this morning and the trouble it caused you.”
He took the document, shoved it into his briefcase and walked out the door. Sophia stared at his retreating form, unconvinced he’d even review her proposal, let alone consider her recommendations and signing with Baker. She’d blown it—big time—and still couldn’t figure out how.
With her head hung low, she walked out the door, muttering, “Just another nail in your coffin as far as Dante’s concerned,” under her breath, and collided with the patron about to enter the establishment. Her head jerked up. “I’m sorr—”
“Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Why, Sophia, what brings you to this part of town so bright and early in the morning?” Malcolm asked, his voice saccharine sweet and dripping with sarcasm, a smug expression on his face.
She stared, nonplussed.
He pushed through the door.
Sophia stood on the sidewalk, her mouth gaping open, the sound of Malcolm’s maniacal laughter ringing in her ears.
Chapter Thirteen
Sophia thrust the phone away from her as she made her way through the kitchen and into the living room of her father’s Santa Monica home. She dropped down on the couch and waited for Allen’s tirade to end. So much for the cooperative brother who’d withdrawn his lawsuit challenging their father’s will. The old Allen had returned. She’d chalked up his nastiness last evening to the whack on the head he’d suffered at the hands of the thieves, but she’d been wrong. He was as antagonistic and belligerent as ever.
The ranting ended and Sophia returned the receiver to her ear. “You’re not listening. The security system cannot be repaired. The damage is too extensive. It needs to be replaced.”
“And I don’t want to spend the money.”
Why was he being so stubborn? “We’re talking less than ten thousand dollars to have it installed. It’s not that much.”
“I don’t care. We don’t need it as far as I’m concerned and I don’t want to spend the extra cash to replace it.”
“If we don’t, Mary will have to drop the price of the house.”
“Unacceptable.”
She closed her eyes and counted to ten. The man would try the patience of a saint, for goodness’ sake. “This is a no-brainer, Allen. The cost to replace the system is peanuts compared—”
“I said no.”
She wanted to scream. Instead, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fine. I’ll let Mary know we are not going to replace the system.”
“Good.”
“She’ll make the adjustment on the MLS as soon as I get back to her.”
“We’re not lowering the price of the house.”
“You can’t have it both ways. We either replace the security system and keep the asking price the same or reduce the price of the house. Your call.”
“I said no. I won’t lower the price.”
Her free hand tightened into a fist, her fingernails digging deep into the tender flesh of her palm. She winced and released her hand. Why was she arguing with him, anyway? “We’re done with this conversation. I’m replacing the security system. The cost will come out of Dad’s estate and that’s final. If you don’t like it, too bad.”
“I’m contacting my lawyer.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Have at it.” She was so past that particular threat.
The front doorbell rang and she stood to answer it, gliding her thumb over the red button to end the call as she made her way.
“Can I help you?” She frowned at the gentleman standing on the other side of the door.
The police officer flashed his badge. “Ms. Hamilton?”
“Yes. I’m Sophia.”
“I’m Detective Taylor from the Los Angeles Police Department.”
She nodded and gestured inside. “Won’t you come in?”
“Actually, Ms. Hamilton, I need you to come with me down to the precinct to answer some questions.”
Sophia walked through the now quiet lobby of Baker Investments and headed straight to Dante’s office, her head still reeling from the interrogation she’d suffered at the hands of the hard-ass Detective Taylor.
The man had actually accused her of masterminding the break-in and stealing the valuable art pieces, among other things, as retribution for her stepfather having left the collection to Allen. With no forced entry and the fact that her mother’s expensive jewelry had not been taken, it was the only logical explanation.
She’d actually laughed in the detective’s face when he’d named her as the prime suspect. Not one of her finer moments, but the notion had been ludicrous.
After four hours of browbeating, he let her go because there wasn’t enough evidence to hold her, but she suspected he would do his best to find a link. Let him search. He’d only be spinning his wheels because there was nothing to find.
The door to Dante’s office stood ajar and she stepped in. “Do you have a minute? I—”
Three sets of eyes peered up at her from the oak conference table at the far corner of the room.
Trey grinned. “There’s my girl!” He stood and came toward her.
She grinned, threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug. “Oh my gosh, when did you get back to the states?”
“Last night. Sanford and I caught the first flight out of JFK this morning. I just had to see you again.”
She rolled her eyes. “I doubt that. Now, what are you really doing here?”
The tiny hairs prickling on the back of her neck had her glancing up. Dante stood, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, his dark eyes glaring down at her. Damn! He had a right to be angry considering her unprofessional behavior over the last few minutes. She shouldn’t have burst in on his meeting and disrupted it with this little reunion, but she’d been so glad to see a friendly face after having such a crappy day.
Trey lifted his thumb and ran it along her cheekbone. “You have dark circles under your eyes. You haven’t been getting enough rest.”
Understatement of the year. “I’m fine.” She smiled. The expression on his face indicated he didn’t believe her.
“I still think you need some time away. Come back to New York with me.”
She shook her head. No way would she give Dante another reason to doubt her commitment to this partnership. The firm meant too much to her. “Thanks, but I can’t. Too much to do here.”
“Come on. You know how much you love the city and we always have a great time whenever you’re in town.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sure Dante will give you the time off—right?”
“Sophia isn’t my employee, she’s my partner, as you well know, so she doesn’t need my approval to take time off,” Dante clipped out.
She shot Dante a really-I’m-trying-to-keep-this-professional look and once again tried to steer the conversation back on track.
“What do you say, Soph?”
“We can talk about it later. In the meantime, why don’t you finish your meeting and—”
“Actually…”
Sophia glanced over at the conference table. Sanford Jackson leaned heavily on his cane and got to his feet. At sixty-seven, he was a little grayer and a little less steady on his feet than he used to be, but still a force to be reckon
ed with. His mild manner deceived. Beneath the calm exterior lay a hard, uncompromising personality who culled and manipulated to get what he wanted. No one in their right mind crossed Sanford Jackson. You paid dearly if you did.
Sanford cleared his throat and gave her a congenial smile.
“Sophia, our meeting concerns you, too.”
Right. She supposed it did. Now that her father was gone, Sanford wanted to make sure Trey’s investments would be handled correctly and since she was the most senior investment advisor they had, he’d want her reassurance everything was in order. “You’d like to discuss the investments Baker made with Trey’s inheritance. If you’ll give me a few minutes I’ll get a printout—”
“Trey is not a Baker client. Your father handled his accounts outside of the investment firm. This was stipulated in my son’s will.”
Sophia stared, nonplussed. Trey wasn’t a Baker client? Why hadn’t her father ever mentioned that fact? “I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do. Now that your father has passed, I am responsible for overseeing Trey’s inheritance and I need to find someone to handle his assets.” Sanford flashed another affable grin. “We’re meeting with several investment firms over the next few weeks.”
The breath wheezed out of her as his words sunk in. How could Sanford do this? Her father hadn’t managed Trey’s accounts because it was stipulated in someone’s last will and testament. He’d done it because the Jacksons were family, because he and Trey’s father had been best friends since childhood. Those ties didn’t seem to matter much to the old coot.
“Will Baker have an opportunity to compete for your business?” she asked stiffly.
“Of course,” Trey said.
Sophia straightened her shoulders. “We’ll have a formal proposal for you with our recommendations tomorrow.”
Sanford nodded and made his way to the door.
“I’m sorry,” Trey whispered and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then followed Sanford out.
Sophia stared, dumbfounded, as the door closed behind them.
Chapter Fourteen