by J. K. Coi
“It’s not as simple as that,” Ben argued.
Diego shook his head. “No, your partner is right. I think it probably is that simple. After hearing of this incident, I looked into it on my own, and it seems to have gone down pretty much as you’ve described.”
“Then why did you ask me about it?”
“I always get as many points of view as I can before making up my mind on something.” He crossed his arms and looked back and forth between Ben and Nolan. “Listen, there’s something else we should talk about. I know we’ve already discussed an investment contract between our companies, but I don’t know if I can do that for you anymore.”
Ben was disappointed, but part of him was also proud because it meant that Beth must have wowed Diego with her proposal.
Nolan leaned forward. “Is it because of those rumors? Because you just said—”
“No, this is purely a business decision,” Diego assured them. “I shouldn’t tell you the details, but given our previous negotiations, I probably owe you a bit of an explanation. The truth is I’m buying out a company in order to develop a very similar product. Because of the potential for conflicts of interest, I wouldn’t be able to handle your contract at the same time.” He sat back and took a swig from his beer.
He was being discreet, but everyone knew that the “very similar product” had to be the one Beth’s company had been working on.
“Well, I can certainly understand where you’re coming from. It sounds like a fantastic opportunity.” Something about this didn’t sound right. “But I was under the impression that Sharkston was looking for investment capital, not someone to buy them outright.”
Now that Ben had put all the cards on the table, Diego stopped beating around the bush. “You’re right. That’s what I thought, too, but apparently their circumstances have changed. When I talked to her partner, he admitted they’re hard-up for cash, and they’re looking to make a different sort of deal.” He shrugged. “The opportunity is too appealing to pass up, even if I’m reluctant to do business with people like them.”
People like them? Beth was one of the most honorable, hard-working people he’d ever known. Diego should count his lucky stars to be doing business with—
“It was her?” said Nolan, surprised. “Elizabeth Carlson was the one who went to you with stories about Ben and Jeffrey Olsen?”
“An anonymous, handwritten note was slipped under my hotel room door.”
Ben dismissed it right away, but Nolan wasn’t letting it go.
“It had to be her. I assume she was trying to sway your decision, because she knew you were leaning in our favor?” Nolan shook his head in disgust. “I hadn’t pegged that woman as the type of person to try something like that.”
“The only thing those rumors have swayed is my decision on whether or not Ms. Carlson will become my vice president as part of the deal. I don’t think I want her working in my company.”
“She wouldn’t—” Ben started, but he had to admit it was possible for Beth to have spilled the beans about Olsen. Ben hadn’t told anyone else about what happened.
With pinched brows Vargas leaned forward. “Ben, I know we had discussions of our own, and I apologize for changing the game at the last minute. I don’t appreciate these kinds of tactics, so despite the opportunity, if you can give me a reason not to do business with these people…”
“I’m not playing those kinds of games with you, Diego,” he told the other man, even as his stomach turned at the idea that Beth had taken the opportunity to do the same to him. Deep down, he knew she wouldn’t. And even though she’d broken his heart not once, but twice, he still had to do what was right. For her. Even if it meant doubling his failures all in one night. “The truth is, Elizabeth Carlson is smart, dedicated, and you’d probably be a fool to pass up the chance to work with her.”
Nolan snorted. “Are you kidding me? After what she’s done you’re going to sit there and extoll her virtues?” He leaned in to growl in Ben’s ear. “Is the sex that fucking good?”
Ben snarled at him. “Shut the hell up.”
Diego drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t think I understand all that’s going on here.”
“Neither do I, but this buyout arrangement you’ve described doesn’t sound right,” Ben warned. In fact, it sounded like the desperate actions of someone who needed money, fast. If Beth had been that desperate, why hadn’t she said anything to him?
“I’ve already got a deal, and I’ve paid in advance to make certain it stands until the contracts can be drawn up,” Vargas insisted. Ben was surprised to hear that too. She’d actually taken money before the deal could be put in writing? The whole thing smacked of bad business practice, and that didn’t sound like her.
Diego’s jaw clenched. “If either of you know something that might change my mind enough to call this whole thing off before my check gets cashed, tell me now.”
This was something he could swing to his advantage. With just a few words about Daniel’s gambling problems, he might be able to convince Vargas that having anything to do with Sharkston Co. was a bad idea. Diego would be signing on the dotted line for Optimus Inc. instead before they were even finished their drinks.
Maybe a few months ago he would have done it, but today he understood something he hadn’t then. The saying, “just business” was bullshit. There was no such thing as just business. Every action was personal. Every decision could hurt. And even now, the last person he wanted to hurt was Beth.
“Ben?” Nolan looked at him expectantly, but Ben shook his head.
He caught sight of a figure across the crowded room. He stood and glanced down at Diego. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”
Diego sat back, looking a little disappointed. “If that’s your position.”
Nolan let out a snort of disgust, but Ben ignored him.
“Whatever happens,” he said to Diego. “I think you should give Elizabeth Carlson a chance. You won’t regret working with her.”
The man tilted his head with raised eyebrows. “I certainly wasn’t expecting Ben Harrison to give me the soft-sell for someone else’s contract. Are you sure you don’t work for Sharkston?”
“I just know a good thing when I see it, even if it isn’t mine.” He turned to leave, having noticed his target slipping out of the bar. “I’m sorry, but I see someone I have to talk to.”
He ignored Nolan’s objection and threw some cash on the table for the drinks. He kept his eye on Daniel as the man headed for the elevators. What the hell was going on?
Ben caught up just as the door was sliding closed and inserted his foot into the track. Once it had slowly re-opened, he leaned his shoulder against it and crossed his arms.
“Daniel Carlson,” he said in a hard voice, looking the thin, disheveled man up and down with a grimace. He looked a wreck. “What the hell have you and your sister been up to?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Harrison,” Daniel snapped. “But I don’t have time for this.” He stabbed the elevator button, trying to force the door to close, and swore when it wouldn’t.
Ben reached in and grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck, dragging him out into the lobby. “You’re going to make time,” he growled. A possibility suddenly occurred to him and he added, “Because I have a feeling you’re trying to screw over your own sister. Does she even know what you’ve been up to?”
He looked up sharply, giving credence to Ben’s suspicion. “What the hell do you care, anyway? You’re the competition.”
“Answer me before I beat the truth out of you.”
“Go to hell.” Daniel shoved Ben’s hands off him, but then he hesitated and seemed to deflate. “She knows now,” he finally admitted.
It didn’t explain how Diego had found out about Jeffrey Olsen, but he was pretty sure that Beth hadn’t been the one to make that ridiculous deal. It had been Daniel, probably acting behind her back.
The man’s brows drew together, and he bit his lip. H
is shoulders drooped. “She didn’t take it well.”
Ben sneered. “Did you honestly think she would? Even I know she would never agree to sell Sharkston. What the hell were you thinking?”
Daniel looked up. His eyes were dark with worry. Something else was wrong.
“What is it?” Ben’s stomach clenched.
“I haven’t seen her since I told her about the deal.” He glanced out the large windows into the darkness. The wind whistled and the glass was pelted with rain. “She took off and hasn’t returned to her room. It’s been a few hours, and I can’t find her anywhere.”
Chapter Seventeen
Daniel spilled the whole story while he and Ben performed a systematic search of the entire resort. First they’d gone back to the bar and gotten Nolan, Meredith, and Diego to help. Everyone was taking a different wing of the hotel, but Ben wasn’t letting Daniel out of his sight and kept him close.
An hour and a half later, Ben knew more than he ever wanted to know about the low-lifes Beth’s brother owed money to and what they were going to do to him if he didn’t pay up within the next few days.
“What about the note to Vargas about Jeffrey Olsen’s death,” he demanded.
Daniel hesitated, but Ben moved as if to grab him again, and he jerked back and stammered, “It was me; it was me. A reporter was asking some questions and wanted to know if I knew what had happened with you and Olsen, so I looked it up online and decided to tell Vargas. I was hoping if he thought you were dirty, negotiating with him would be easier.”
Ben also knew that despite being a selfish, insensitive, asshole, Daniel did love his sister and he felt horrible about what he’d done. “I’ll fix it,” he said, not for the first time. Or the fifth. “I just hope she’s okay. She has to be okay. Why would she take off like that? Where the hell could she be?”
They’d walked every floor, gone into all the conference rooms and back to the bar. There was only one place they hadn’t looked yet—outside on the grounds. Ben turned to Daniel, hiding his own worry by giving orders. “It’s time to enlist the staff to help. Go to the front desk and let them know she’s missing. I’m going to check outside.”
Daniel nodded. Ben left him. After returning to his room for a light jacket he went outside, armed with a flashlight from one of the security guards.
The storm still raged. Rain pelted him, feeling like sheets of needles falling on his face and neck. The wind threatened to lift him right off his feet, but he pressed forward.
He squinted into the darkness. It was impossible to see anything and the beam of his flashlight couldn’t penetrate more than two feet in front of him.
“Beth!” The word was carried away on the wind as if he’d never uttered it.
In just fifteen minutes, he was soaked to the bone, and his voice was hoarse from calling her name, but he had a strong feeling she was out here.
In fact…he panned the flashlight in a half-circle over the expanse of beach laid out in front of him again and stopped on the same small greenhouse they’d invaded last night.
A palm tree had fallen on top of it. The trunk was being held up by the steel roof trusses, but it looked as if it would snap them at any moment. He raced to the door, but something inside the greenhouse had fallen in front of it, blocking the way.
“Beth? Beth, are you in there?” There was no answer. He examined the greenhouse walls. Most of the glass was actually still intact, except for the ceiling. He shone the flashlight through the window beside the door, but there wasn’t anything in there other than broken pots and spilled dirt.
He was about to keep going and make his way to the beach, when he heard the muffled sound of a moan. It was faint, immediately torn away by the wind—or maybe it was a product of the wind—but he had to be sure.
“Beth!”
He stuffed the flashlight under his arm as he struggled to push the greenhouse door in. Whatever had fallen up against it was tall and heavy and it was positioned at a tilt, like a wedge that prevented him from budging the door. As he shoved, trying to force the barricade back, he heard a sprinkling of glass falling to the ground, and prayed that whatever was left of the roof wasn’t getting ready to crash down.
“Beth! Answer me,” he called again, fighting the tremor in his voice.
Fuck. If she was in there… If she’d been hurt…
He needed to remain calm. He had to stay in control even as fear like he’d never felt before played havoc with his imagination, sending him gruesome images of her bloody body lying on the floor impaled by long shards of glass. “Oh God, baby. Say something. Let me know you’re okay.”
Another moan. And then movement, something sliding on the ground, shifting in the broken glass.
“Ben?” Her voice was weak and shaky, but it was Beth. She was definitely inside.
“Hold on, I’m coming.” Rain bled into his eyes and down his face, and his feet slid across the wet flagstone step in front of the greenhouse. The structure blocking the other side of the door wavered as he shoved harder, and he had to force himself to ease up, go slowly. He needed to slide it across the floor, but he didn’t want to send it tipping over when he wasn’t sure where Beth was.
Finally, there was room to get the door open enough to slip through. He swiped a hand across his face and got down on his knees to duck under the blockage. It turned out to be a toppled shelving unit. He edged inside and swung the flashlight on the space in front of him, but saw nothing besides a mess of mangled plants and broken glass spilled in dirty rain puddles, until he got to the corner of the greenhouse.
“Shit.” He smacked his forehead off the rim of a flower pot still hanging from the ceiling as he hastened forward. Beth lay on the ground, struggling to sit up. Blood trickled down the side of her face, and she was soaking wet.
“Are you all right? What happened?” He crouched on one knee beside her and pointed the flashlight in her face. She squinted against the shine and tried to lift her hand in front of her eyes, but he stopped her. “No, just let me have a look at you.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted in a stronger voice, but her hand fell back down to her side and she let him cup her chin in his hand to take a look. “I fell and knocked myself on the head when the tree came down through the roof,” she muttered.
“There’s glass everywhere. Did it cut you?” He smoothed the hair from her forehead to examine the gash in her temple. There was a bump there, too. The rain made the blood run down her face, but he didn’t think she was actually bleeding anymore. Still, with head injuries you could never be sure. He needed to get her to the infirmary.
“I was in here feeling sorry for myself and not paying any attention to how bad the storm was getting. Suddenly, all I heard was a crash. The glass from the roof missed me, but that cabinet over there came out of nowhere and attacked me.” She forced a smile.
He glanced back over his shoulder at the structure that had tried to keep him out, thinking how heavy it had been while he was trying to shove it out from in front of the door.
“Jesus. You’re lucky that thing didn’t crush you flat.” His stomach churned, and he turned back. She was pale, her lips pulled into a tight line. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked.
She started to roll her shoulder but let out a hiss of pain and grabbed her elbow, holding her arm in close to her body. “I think I might have wrenched something.”
When he examined her further, he also discovered a pretty deep cut in her right calf, but he decided it was safer to move her than stay here. He put the flashlight in her lap and slipped his arms beneath her, carefully lifting her off the ground. “Let’s get you back inside before you freeze to death,” he said.
At the door of the greenhouse, he put her on her feet and helped her duck down to get through before following her out. She was able to stand on her own, but the winds were still strong, and the rain pelted them both.
He gathered her back up into his arms. “You don’t have to do that,” she protested.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“You disappear in the middle of a hurricane and have the nerve to ask what’s the matter?”
“It’s not a hurricane, and I didn’t—”
He glared down at her until she shut up. “Do you know what that did to me? To find you in there? That tree could have come right down…the glass could have cut an artery. What if you had a concussion and nobody found you out here before you bled out, or what if you never regained consciousness? Fuck, Beth,” he snarled, frustration pounding in his temples. He could almost always find a way to charm himself out of a situation, but this fear was immobilizing. He didn’t know how to handle it. “Damn it. You could have been killed.”
She lifted a hand to his cheek, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Stop,” she whispered. He snapped his mouth shut, but that apparently wasn’t what she meant. “No. Stop. Stop walking. Put me down.” She slapped his wet shoulder with a light fist.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m taking you inside to find a doctor.” He kept walking until she started hitting him more determinedly. Finally, he did what she asked even though he had to hold her steady.
“What is wrong with you?” he growled, watching her weave on her feet.
“What are you saying?”
“What do you mean?” He waved an arm toward the lights of the resort ahead of them. “I’m saying we need to get you out of the damn storm.”
“No, the other thing.” She pulled away and peered up at him through the rain as if trying to find whatever answer she was asking for in his face. “Why? Why did you come looking for me?”