“I’m not sure I can.” His voice was raw, honest.
It took a moment for her to wiggle out from under him—he groaned when his head almost hit the floor—and once she was free, she stood up. His skin was pallid, and she realized if she hadn’t shown up, there was a good chance he might have died, if he could. And if not, he’d be suffering for who knew how long.
At least he didn’t have to do it alone.
She bent down and grabbed his arm, tugging him upward. “I know you can barely walk,” she said over his groaning, “but we need to get you to bed. Come on, you can lean on me.”
It took a minute, but he managed to get to his feet. His arm, along with most of his weight, was thrown over her shoulder as she led him to his bed. He all but collapsed on the mattress, and Reese grabbed the only blanket he seemed to possess and wrapped it around his shivering frame. She could feel his eyes on her, always on her, even when she crossed the room to grab a dish towel, wet it, and wring it out. She snatched an unused mixing bowl just in case he started throwing up again. His eyes never wavered as she took a seat on the side of his bed, craning her body toward him and with gentle precision, began to dab his skin with the towel. He was still shaking.
It was only then she realized he wasn’t wearing anything underneath his jacket. The blanket came to his underarms, revealing the beginning of a surprisingly commendable chest. She felt herself flush at the sight and forced her eyes back to his face. Those perfectly shaped lips curled into a tired smirk, which only increased her blush.
“Why are you helping me?” he mumbled. She saw the way his body relaxed under the touch of the cloth even though he continued to shake.
Reese shrugged, her eyes focused on the task at hand. “I didn’t know you were just going to quit,” she said. “I thought you were going to ease up.”
“People drink to forget,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning deeper into the pillow. “I forgot. Then you made me remember. I don’t want to forget again.” He paused and slowly raised his eyes to half-mast. “It seems like you know exactly what you’re doing, darl. Personal experience?”
“A guy I dated back in LA drank a lot,” she replied. “I got over it real fast. I promised myself I wouldn’t be with a guy who couldn’t take care of himself because then he certainly couldn’t take care of me.”
“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” His eyes were closed, but he was grinning to the point where his prominent cheekbones swelled. She knew if his eyes were open, he’d have a sparkle in the colorful irises.
“You’re different,” she said in a whisper.
“It’s nice to see you care, darl,” he drawled.
Reese rolled her eyes and dropped her hand in her lap. “Go to sleep,” she told him. “You’ll be better—”
His soft snores interrupted her.
She stood, making a mental checklist of everything she had to do: call Piper and tell her she was okay, while simultaneously dropping hints about how great Henry was; call her mother and tell her she’d be spending the night at Piper’s, which was unusual on a school night but Reese had a feeling her mother would be ecstatic that she was returning to “normal”; call Henry and tell him she wouldn’t be needing a ride home although she had a feeling he’d somehow already know; clean Ollo’s apartment; finish her homework.
Rolling her shoulders back, Reese inhaled deeply, slowly, giving herself a moment before she started on the tasks. Tonight was going to be a long night.
28
Andie
The weekend went by for Andie. She managed to pick up the things she needed without much hassle, because her mother was either out or napping. Where Judith was, Andie had no idea, but she wouldn't be surprised to learn that her mother was at the police station, harassing the commisioner until Keirah was found. Jack was busy a lot of the time and,, scheduled a lot of international meetings late at night, leaving Andie either alone or with Beverly. Andie didn’t mind the solitude and used it to explore the manor—including Jack’s twice-the-size-of-her-apartment library—and to spend some time with his aunt. Beverly was eccentric in the best way; she never wore shoes, she loved to garden and had ones for both vegetables and flowers, and she showed Andie a bunch of secret passageways in hopes of helping get her mind off Keirah. It worked only temporarily, but Andie appreciated the attempt.
By the time Monday rolled around, Andie felt comfortable at the manor, which was good since Carey’s parents didn't have the space to take her in until around Thanksgiving and she didn’t know Reese well enough to ask for temporary boarding. In class, Andie told her friends what happened over the weekend and was surprised how relieved she felt afterwards. Carey hadn’t given her a hard time for moving in with Jack, and Reese had an idea on how to help find Keirah: find out who robbed Onyx First National. She thought Noir was behind the scheme, but no one else made that leap and Andie had no idea how Reese came to that conclusion but she didn't particularly care right now. All she wanted was to find Keirah.
Jack didn’t treat her any differently at work nor did her coworkers, which meant he hadn’t told anyone about their unprecedented living arrangement. She refused to let Jack get in trouble on her part so she withheld the information, even from Miranda. If Miranda noticed a change in Andie, she didn’t mention it. Besides taking Andie out for limitless ice cream after hearing about Keirah, Miranda was focused on wooing new investors for Jack’s company.
Because Miranda was so focused on her job, Andie was able to browse the internet for any footage of the bank robbery. She was met with little success. Nobody had taken credit for it and the police didn’t have any leads. Andie wasn’t having much luck either. There were a couple of cell phone videos posted, but the quality was subpar.
That all changed the following Tuesday.
After her usual morning shower and a quick bowl of cereal, Andie had a few minutes to flip on the news. It was a trait she had picked up this past week, hoping for some information on the whereabouts of her sister and yet feeling relieved when Keirah was never mentioned. She was clinging to the adage that no news was good news, even though with each passing day the likelihood that Keirah was going to turn up alive—
Andie forced herself to focus on the television. She wouldn’t let herself believe that Keirah was gone, especially when there was no evidence. The news was in the middle of showing a video, and Andie knew this was new footage, better footage, of the robbery last week. She turned up the volume enough so that she could hear the commentary without waking Jack and Beverly, even though that was all but impossible anyway, given the placement of their rooms.
“… know where the young woman is,” the reporter said over the video. “Watch as we play it again. Keep your eyes on the red head. We see her wrists tied together with telephone cord and we see her used as a hostage. We don’t know where she is now. Nobody has turned up and no missing person with that description has been filed. It was as though she vanished into thin air. If you have any information …”
Andie didn’t hear the rest of what the reporter said. Her eyes were locked on the red head. It was Keirah. She could tell from the square-shaped jaw, the long legs, the round lips. That was Keirah. A week ago, she had been alive. From there, Andie concluded that the bank robbery was orchestrated by Noir. He had killed his other accomplices though. Their bodies had been tagged and bagged as soon as the police got to the scene. Where was Keirah?
By the time she got to work that afternoon, Andie decided she needed to go to the bank herself and explore. She knew she should have gone to Jarrett and told him about Keirah being at the bank during the robbery, but something stopped her and she couldn’t pinpoint what that was. If Keirah was in the bank—obviously used as some sort of distraction, given her attire—seemingly alone, why didn’t she go to someone for help? Why didn’t she just leave? Unless she had, and no one noticed. Maybe she left a note somewhere, telling the recipient she was being held against her will. Maybe she left a message only Andie would recognize. In all likelihood,
the chances of that were slim at best, but she had to at least try. She got off of work at five, so if she rushed, she could probably get to the bank just before it closed. She would probably have to shake Jack, who had made it mandatory that all women were escorted to their cars if they got off at five or later, thanks to the arrival of Onyx’s newest villain, Kane. The man attempted to spring all the criminals locked in holding cells waiting to be transferred to the prison outside city limits by way of explosion. Miraculously, no one was hurt, but seven dangerous criminals escaped and still hadn’t been recaptured. It was all anyone could talk about, especially considering the Black Wing had been seen flying around Onyx searching for them.
Please.
What about her sister? Just because new criminals were popping up did not mean Keirah was not still missing.
She was being selfish. She was being hypocritical. And yet, she found that she didn't particularly care.
When Andie walked into the office, Miranda was in the middle of a phone call.
“… yeah, I’m really looking forward to meeting you as well,” Miranda said, her voice sincere. She smiled at Andie and held up a finger. “Okay, so seven o’clock at the Bohemian tonight? Great, I’ll see you then, Mr. Bernal.” She hung up the phone and plopped back down in her seat.
“Mr. Bernal?” Andie arched a brow. “The guy who runs the—”
“Bank that was robbed last week?” Miranda asked. “Yeah. Well, yes and no. He’s the son of Randy Bernal, Bill. Bill actually runs it now, and he’s more than a little interested in investing in Phillip Enterprises.”
“Can I come?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and blushed at her bluntness. “I just, I’d like to learn how to build relationships with potential clients.”
“Uh, yeah.” Miranda nodded her head, her bouncy curls following her swift movement. “I’ll just run it by Jack to make sure it’s okay, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. But Andie, dress nice, okay? Not business nice, but nice-nice.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Andie asked as she took her seat. She couldn’t keep the grin off of her face if she tried. Her plan was slowly starting to come together. If that meant she had to wear a dress in order to woo Bill Bernal, then she would.
Miranda’s mouth was closed, but the look on her face said everything.
Andie got out of the taxi after paying the driver and glanced around. She decided to leave her car at the manor and politely declined a ride from Beverly. She wanted Bill to offer her a ride to the bank and that meant she couldn’t have her car with her. It was hard to resist a damsel in distress. At least Andie hoped it was. And after, she would Uber back to the house.
Bill Bernal was supposed to be dressed in a midnight blue Armani suit. She had Googled him in order to find out what he looked like and was surprised to see he was the same guy who had hit on her at Jack’s party and demanded a dance. At least she knew he found her somewhat attractive, though she couldn’t suppress a small shiver running down her spine. He was relatively attractive too, with his jet-black hair and dark blue eyes. Apparently, he was twenty-four with a body more narrow than Jack’s, but for his five foot ten frame, there was an admirable amount of muscle.
She headed into the luxurious restaurant attached to the Bohemia Suites, a ritzy hotel. Andie chose a form-fitting orange dress that wasn’t too low cut and reached just past her knees with black stilettos on her feet. She left her hair down and styled it messy mass of curls, and she bothered to makeup that brought out her pale green eyes, her cheekbones, and her full lips. Normally, she wouldn’t have made the effort, but on top of seducing Bernal—seducing someone being something she had never done before—she was representing Jack and wanted to look good for him. She had even left a jacket at home, which, to her, was quite a sacrifice.
“Miranda Winokour?” a voice asked as she walked in.
“No,” Andie said, narrowing her eyes slightly. He didn’t recognize her. Or, if he did, pretended not to. Well, two could play that game. “Are you Bill Bernal? I’m Andrea Shepherd, Miranda’s intern. I’ll be observing the meeting, if you don’t mind. I’m a student, and there’s a lot I want to learn.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” His lips curled into a smirk as his dark eyes took her in. He stuck out his right hand. “You are the most beautiful intern I have ever seen.”
Andie pressed her brows together, hoping he didn’t notice her shift her weight in obvious discomfort. She wasn’t sure how to respond. When he brought her hand to his lips, her face did it for her by grimacing. She managed to smooth it out by the time he released her, his fingers much more gentle than they had been.
This is good, she tried to remind herself. He seems to like you. Get a grip, Andie.
“I’m not sure where—”
“Ah, Bill, I see you’ve made it,” a voice called from behind her.
Andie turned and her mouth all but dropped open. What was Jack doing here and why was he with possibly the most beautiful woman from Onyx Andie had ever seen? And where was Miranda?
In all honesty, Jack looked good in his suit, and while Bill Bernal seemed to dress for perfection, Jack appeared more relaxed. The first button of his white collared shirt was undone and his short, chestnut hair was loosely pushed from his face, though a few strands still rebelled. She didn’t have time to scrutinize his date because the hostess seemed to have recognized the billionaire and was waving him over.
“Miranda couldn’t make it so you’re stuck with me,” he explained. “So what do you say? Should we grab a table?”
Andie was nervous, to say the least. She was sitting across the table from the most stunning woman she had ever laid eyes upon. Despite the fact that she didn’t approve of Jack’s choice of lifestyle, she had to hand it to him: this particular floozy was outstanding. Her face was heart-shaped and she had big brown eyes, round cheekbones, and full, angled lips. Her honey-blonde hair fell just past her shoulders. Her makeup was immaculately done, and Andie had a sinking feeling she probably looked just as good without it. Her body had nearly as many curves as Andie’s, but she was taller and more toned. She wore an amazing little black dress that revealed perfectly tanned skin, no tan lines in sight. The dress showed enough skin that it pushed the boundaries of imagination and hugged every curve of her body, stopping in the middle of her thighs. On her feet was a pair of what appeared to be diamond-encrusted pumps that pushed her height up four more inches so her already-long legs looked even longer.
And Andie had thought she looked decent tonight.
She rubbed her lips together as everyone settled in and made introductions, hoping there wasn’t any gloss on her teeth. The woman in front of her had straight, white teeth and lipstick probably never dared taint them. But even if it did, Andie thought flatly, she would probably look amazing.
She really should be paying attention to Bill Bernal talking about where he got his suit while simultaneously comparing it with Jack’s, but she had a gnawing feeling in her gut that wouldn’t desist. Andie couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, exactly, but her conscience immediately disliked whatshername, seeing her arms all over Jack. In all honesty, the woman had shown no shame as she practically molested him in public. Andie actually felt sorry for him. Sure she was gorgeous, but that was not classy behavior. Jack couldn’t be seen with someone like her, it would ruin his reputation.
Wasn’t that the point? a dry voice asked her.
Shut up! another voice exclaimed. Look at her, smiling that ten million dollar smile, batting her ridiculously long eyelashes at him. He’s not even paying attention to her, by the way. Can’t she take a hint? Talk about coming on too strong. If I was Jack’s date, I would definitely play harder to—
Holy shit. Holy shit. Was she— no. Tonight was about Keirah and the bank. Focus.
“So Bill,” Jack said, his jade green eyes flickering over to his business acquaintance. “I thought your father set you up with a nice bank in New York. What are you doing in Onyx?�
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“A bank in New York is like a small fish in a big pond,” Bill said. “Why do that when you can be a big fish?” He flashed both Andie and Jack’s date a disarming smile. “My father’s thinking of branching out the company in Onyx. He needed help with that, so I contacted your assistant Miranda and scheduled a meeting. And let me tell you, I was incredibly surprised. I had no idea an intern could be so …” His eyes trailed over Andie and he gave her an appreciative smile. “… beautiful.”
“You’re Jack’s intern?” the woman—Zooey, Andie finally remembered—exclaimed. Her brown eyes widened and she smiled. “I cannot believe it! I’ve heard so many stories about you. Is it true you got the job because he took one look at you and hired you on the spot?”
Jack laughed. “Actually, no,” he said, giving Andie a warm look. “She called me an asshole and then dumped water on me.”
“And you still hired her?” Zooey asked in disbelief. “Wow, you must have been wearing something good.”
Though Andie tried, she couldn’t stop the look of utter disbelief crossing her features.
“Interesting, to say the least,” Jack said with a grin. “But despite her looks and charm, I really appreciate her blunt honesty. I knew I could trust her to tell me things, no matter how much I don’t want to hear them. In fact, she is probably so honest especially because I don’t want to hear it.” The table politely chuckled and Andie blushed. “But seriously,” he continued. “I’ve come to depend on her.”
“The tabloids have speculated that you guys are sleeping together,” Bill said abruptly. Andie nearly choked on the water she was drinking and Jack’s face darkened. “What? I want to make sure my investment is going to be placed in capable hands.”
“Let me make something perfectly clear,” Jack said in a low voice. Andie recognized this as his controlled anger voice and she felt a small smile slip onto her otherwise tomato-red face. “Andie did not get the job because she had, is, or will sleep with me. Our relationship is strictly professional; although, I do consider her a close, personal friend. Now, this restaurant has great food. Please have whatever you want; it’s on me.”
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