by Lena Hart
That, however, had forced her to retreat further. So he’d changed his approach, keeping it casual and letting her see his charming and playful side. Sometimes he succeeded, and she would relax. He would even manage to draw an occasional smile out of her when she thought he wouldn’t notice.
But most times, he would wince inwardly at the cheesy pickup lines. He hadn’t used those ridiculous lines on a woman since he was in junior high, but if making an ass of himself was what he needed to do to get a smile out of her, he would do it.
“Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Moreno?” she asked evenly.
Apparently, making an ass out of himself hadn’t completely softened her attitude toward him, but at least the walls she had erected between them seemed to be slowly cracking. And he wouldn’t be content until he managed to get a smile out of her this morning. Even if it was just a small one.
He absently rubbed his shins. “Actually, I could use a Band-Aid.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “For what?”
“My knee. I accidently scraped it falling for you.”
She rolled her eyes and bit her lower lip, but that didn’t stop it from curving slightly.
He straightened from his perch on her desk. “There it is, muñeca,” he said. “There’s that beautiful smile.”
She shook her head again but, to his surprise and delight, her expression softened into a full smile. He marveled at the way the tiny dips formed on her smooth, round cheeks. Lately, she rarely smiled at him but when she did, her face lit up and transformed, captivating him until he thought of nothing else but doing it again, wanting to see nothing but joy on her beautiful face.
And it was her sweet smile and gentleness that had first drawn him to her. Like now.
He came toward her and her eyes widened in surprise—and awareness. The way her dark amber brown eyes dilated, the way her lips parted and she slowly inhaled as he neared—all soft and breathy—said she was more than physically aware of him. Though she tried to keep her reaction contained, he picked up on every nuance. She was that expressive.
Passion and longing simmered behind those large, baby-doll eyes of hers, yet he saw a kind of hollow sadness that he wanted to wipe away forever.
She stared up at him transfixed as he drew near, never taking her eyes from his. Reaching around her, he picked up the coffee mug, the action bringing them closer together and he inhaled deeply. She smelled good—like what sweet dreams probably smelled like.
Heavenly.
And he wanted some of that sweetness for himself.
No. Not some. He wanted it all. But he would bide his time and hold on to his patience.
He pulled back and moved the warm drink to the opposite end of her desk, away from the computer. She exhaled slowly and he didn’t miss the faint disappointment in her expressive eyes before she looked away, busying herself with a stack of papers.
He stared down at her bent head. “Dinner tonight, Judith,” he urged quietly. “Don’t think too much about it. It’s more fun if you just say yes.”
Carlos left, not at all disappointed by her lack of acknowledgment. His instincts were right and eventually he would break through her resolve. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he knew they were meant for each other. He could feel it. She, however, chose to fight it.
Her delicate innocence elicited a protectiveness in him that made him want to fold her into his arms and shield her from whatever it was that brought on that quiet sadness he could see in her at times. Hopefully, with his love and patience, he would be able to break down her walls, and draw out the passionate woman she so obviously kept buried inside.
****
“Hey, Judith. I have presents for you.”
She looked up as the young mail clerk dropped a stack of envelopes onto her desk. Though she didn’t really socialize with any of her co-workers at Royal Courts outside of work, she would occasionally grab coffee with the young, aspiring musician in the mornings while he filled her in on the latest office gossip. Three months at Royal Courts and still, she couldn’t place all the names and faces, but she enjoyed the little distractions.
Today, however, didn’t leave them much time for any of that. The amount of work Judith had on her to-do-list in preparation for the resort’s week-long branding meetings, which kicked off early tomorrow morning, had been more than she’d anticipated.
She should have taken Carlos up on his lunch offer, though there hadn’t been time for lunch anyways. She had skipped the meal and was starting to feel the effects. After his little visit that morning, she’d been working non-stop, yet was still behind in preparing the materials for tomorrow’s meetings. Someone from marketing should have been here helping her, but wasn’t surprised when no one showed.
Judith sighed as Brian continued loading her desk with envelopes. Mondays always brought lots of mail.
“Thanks Brian,” she muttered, gathering and sifting through the pile. It mainly consisted of internal stuff—invoices, memos, and the like. She pulled aside a large, thick envelope from the heap and frowned. It was addressed to her, but the return address listed back to the office.
She never got mail at work—she never really got mail period. It had to come from another department.
Before she could tear the large envelope open, the phone rang and she answered it with her standard, routine greeting. “Royal Courts executive office. Judith Bell speaking.”
A low, deep voice came through the receiver. “Your brain must be tired ’cause I know I’ve been running through your mind all day.”
Judith didn’t bother to restrain her smile.
He’s too much.
“Hello Mr. Moreno.”
There was a lightness in her tone she couldn’t contain and she was grateful he wasn’t there to see her grinning like an idiot. She couldn’t deny that she was glad to hear his voice and he had been on her mind throughout the day. He’d asked her out to dinner tonight and for the first time, she seriously considered it. For his birthday, she told herself. Just to be nice.
“Hello muñeca,” Carlos said, his voice taking on that intimacy she was fast becoming accustom to, along with the endearment.
She had looked up the word once and wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. Muñeca. Babydoll. It was slowly growing on her, but one thing was for certain, she liked the way Carlos said it.
“So, what time should I pick you up tonight?”
She had been primed to say yes to dinner with him all day, had actually been excited about it too. A quick glance down at the pile of letters and she knew she couldn’t. There was too much to do. Not only did she have her work to complete, she was also filling in as the temporary assistant for Mr. Kristensen, her boss’ business partner who was back in the office from his travels. It was fast approaching five and both co-founders were still in their meeting. Usually, they came out with a request or task for her and she couldn’t guarantee she would be able to leave at a reasonable hour tonight.
Carlos must have taken her silence as a refusal because he began cajoling her.
“C’mon, Judith. I don’t have any cooties and I promise I won’t bite.” He paused before adding playfully, “But if I do, I promise to let you bite back.”
She stifled a laugh. He really was too much.
“It’s not that,” she started. “It’s just…tonight’s no good.” She took a deep, unsteady breath. “How about tomorrow?”
He was silent for some time, clearly just as stunned as she was by her unexpected offer. She briefly closed her eyes. Anticipation and confused mortification entwined inside her. What am I doing?
“Don’t play with me, girl,” he growled low.
She laughed nervously at his indignant tone. She may have surprised herself by her bold suggestion, but she definitely wasn’t playing him.
“I’m not,” she assured him. “Dinner. Tomorrow. For your birthday,” she added.
He released a heavy sigh then chuckled. “Man, you know how to make a man wor
k. I thought I would have to start writing poetry and shi—stuff.”
“Hmm, poetry?” she teased. “On second thought…” This was the first time she had let herself be playful with him and it felt nice.
“Oh no, muñeca,” he rushed out. “We’re having our date tomorrow night. No take backs.”
“No take backs,” she agreed. “I promise.” She hung up the phone, unsure if the nervous giggle that suddenly burst out of her was from apprehension or excitement.
The heavy beating of her heart told her it was the latter.
Giving in to him hadn’t been all that bad. If anything, it felt as if the lid over her bottled emotions had finally been loosened and the pressure and tension was starting to seep out, making room for something new and exciting. It was all nerve-wracking, but she wouldn’t deny herself an evening alone with him any longer.
She was startled out of her thoughts when the door to Mr. Carrone’s office opened and Mr. Kristensen stepped out. She waited for the fair-haired executive to approach her with a request. Since he spent most of his time traveling, they weren’t in any hurry to get him his own assistant. Instead, he rushed past her, not sparing her a glance as he concentrated on his cell phone.
Judith breathed a sigh of relief and returned her attention to the mountain of mail piled on her desk.
It took her longer than she expected to sort the important mail from the junk. The large, padded envelope once again caught her eye and she pulled it toward her. Tearing it open, she removed the contents inside. A thick folder, a short note, and a flash drive. Nothing else.
The message on the note was to the point.
If you want our help, call this number. 6pm sharp.
Below the mysterious message was a phone number with no name. Judith frowned. Help with what?
She flipped open the folder and after a long look at the photos neatly tucked inside, she let it slip from her numb fingers. It landed on her desk with a soft thud and for a moment, she couldn’t move. She had only caught a glimpse, but it was enough to bring a shudder down her spine. With trembling fingers, she closed the folder and sat there, waiting for her heart to stop its frantic beating.
How?
The Agency had promised her that her records would be concealed—that no one would be able to find her.
Yet someone had.
She stared down at the folder, desperate to know who had sent it. But going through it in hopes of finding that answer would require her to look through the photos and relive that horrible night five years ago. She wouldn’t do it.
She couldn’t.
Putting those dark memories behind her had taken a long time, though there were still nights when they seemed to find their way to the surface and would linger.
The brief note stared up at her and she reread it. Did she dare call that number? Whoever had sent her this knew more about her than anyone should, and that made them dangerous. An overwhelming sense of distress began to settle in at the thought of starting over. According to the Agency, that was the only option if ever her identity was compromised.
But she didn’t want to start over. She liked her life now. It was quiet and perhaps monotonous but it was hers. She also had Prince. Would she be able to take him with her?
And there was Carlos… She would never see him again.
Judith shoved the folder back into the envelope and tucked it into her drawer. She needed to sort everything out. But not here. Not now.
It was difficult, but she managed to control her nerves long enough to get through the rest of the afternoon.
“Have a good night, Judith.”
She blinked up from her monitor as David Carrone walked past her desk, his computer bag slung over his shoulder. She should have been drafting an important memo, but had been staring blankly at the screen in front of her. How long had she just been sitting there?
“Good night, Mr. Carrone.”
She watched as the tall, dark-haired CEO disappeared around the corner then glanced at the time. It was a quarter to six.
…call this number. 6pm sharp.
Judith waited a heartbeat then reached into the drawer and grabbed the large envelope, ignoring the warning bells that were sounding off in her head about the huge risk she was taking. But she needed to know how this person had found out about her, what help they wanted to offer her, and more importantly, why they felt the need to conjure up memories she had long since buried—along with the girl pictured inside.
Though the office was now quiet, she couldn’t risk making the call at her desk. It was too open. She made her way to the opposite end of the executive floor, where the offices were isolated and empty. As she neared, she realized the only office with a telephone connection was the office Mr. Kristensen was temporarily using and she mentally kicked herself for not bringing her cell phone.
Slipping into the large office, she shut the door and made her way behind the wide desk. She sat down and stared at the phone as if she expected it to come to life. One minute. She would give the person one minute to explain themselves, then she would hang-up.
At exactly six, she picked up the phone and dialed the number. With every ring, she lost a bit more of her courage.
It finally clicked, but there was nothing but silence.
“H-hello?” she called out, not sure if someone had picked up.
“I’m happy you decided to call, Judith.”
Her hands tightened around the receiver until her bones ground into it. Whoever she had expected, it hadn’t been a woman. She didn’t recognize the voice, but there was something vaguely familiar about her accent.
“Who is this?” Judith asked quietly.
“Who I am doesn’t matter, hon,” the woman said. “What I can do is help you with your Kenneth Tate problem.”
Judith sat up, alert. “What do you mean?” she asked, gripping the phone tighter at the mention of her ex-fiancé. “He hasn’t been in contact with me.” The protection order she had against him kept him from doing so. Not that he could from his prison cell since he couldn’t possibly know where she was.
“Well, hon, when he gets out next week, I’m sure that’ll all change.”
Judith nearly dropped the phone. Gets out? Next week? She had hoped he would serve all nine years of his sentence.
Her mind raced. She’d been keeping track of every day, waiting for the moment she would be notified of his release, praying he would forget all about her once he did.
“I can tell from your silence, you didn’t know.” The woman almost sounded sympathetic, but there were traces of satisfaction over her ignorance. “His request for parole was granted. Looks like your fiancé’s coming home, hon.”
There was a ringing in her ears that began to grow louder. Judith had to remind herself to breath. She was safe. He couldn’t find her.
Could he?
The strange woman was a stark reminder of that he possibly could.
At her continued silence, the woman added, “Take a look in the folder if you don’t believe me. There’s a copy of the parole board’s approval.”
Judith didn’t touch the folder. Instead, she stared down at it. The photos hidden inside were another harsh reminder of what Kenneth Tate was capable of and how dangerous he could be.
She could feel the walls of her quiet, serene life tumbling around her. Her stomach churned at the thought of things going back to the way they had once been. The late night phone calls, the constant love letters and looking over her shoulder every time she left her apartment.
She couldn’t live like that again.
“But,” the woman drawled, “I can make it so that he finishes out the rest of his sentence. You want that, don’t you?”
Judith wanted Kenneth Tate to spend the rest of his life behind bars, but that wasn’t going to happen. Though the judge had sentenced him with the maximum, Ken had only gotten nine years. And that wasn’t enough—not for what he had done to her.
“Who are you?” Judith asked again. “W
hy do you want to help me? What do you want from me?”
The woman was silent for a moment. “I just need your help getting a simple file out of Royal Courts.”
Judith hated the paralyzing fear that was consuming her at just the thought of Kenneth Tate. It would always be a part of her, like a sheath of dead skin she would never be able to shed. This strange woman was playing on her fear, but she was also offering to help keep a monster right where he belonged and Judith would take it. No matter the cost.
“How?”
“The flash drive,” the woman began slowly, “do you have it?”
Judith pulled the small device from the large envelope. “Yes,” she said hollowly.
“Good. Now all I need you to do is connect it to your computer and I’ll take care of the rest. That’s all.”
The woman made it sound so simple, but it wasn’t. Judith would be committing a felony. At the very least, she would be putting Royal Courts at risk—along with her status with the Agency.
“Why do you need the file?”
The woman laughed. “I don’t plan to shut down the place, if that’s what you’re thinking. In fact, it doesn’t even belong to the resort.”
Judith chewed her lower lip. That didn’t answer her question, but did it matter? She either did this or she hung up the phone right now. There was no telling what harm the woman was capable of once she had her hands on whatever this file was. Judith may not be well versed in technology, but she knew the damage could be astronomical.
Did she really want to risk everything on the uncertain word and protection of this woman?
“It’s only a file, hon,” the woman added at her prolonged hesitation. “No one will even know it’s missing. I promise. And let’s face it, you need our help as much as we need yours. Unless you believe Kenneth Tate has been fully rehabilitated within our wonderful prison system, as he’s managed to convince everyone else.”