by KB Winters
“Take a seat.” He gestured to the recently-vacated chairs around the conference table, but I didn’t move.
“I don’t need to sit.” I was shaking with anger. “I need you to explain why the fuck the IRS is snooping around in this department.”
“I’m sorry.” He held his hands up. “You know you’re the only one who could—”
“I’m not the only one, Craig,” I threw back, cutting him off. “You could easily have fudged the numbers, couldn’t you? You could have changed something.”
“I don’t know what—”
“Yes, you fucking do,” I snarled, the words coming out of me with more force than I’d intended. “You’re the only one who could’ve fucked this up for me, and don’t pretend like I don’t know that. Just admit it.”
“There’s nothing to admit,” he replied smoothly, a little too smoothly given the circumstances. “I’ve done nothing but support this business since I started and frankly, I’m disgusted you would accuse me of attempting to undermine—”
I tuned him out then because everything he was saying sounded too carefully rehearsed to be anything but bullshit. I rolled my eyes and turned away from him, gathering my thoughts, getting ready to attack again. I couldn’t let him win. Not after everything else going wrong in my life. No, this time, I needed that win for myself. And I knew exactly how to nail him.
“It’s about the promotion, isn’t it?” I snapped, finally cutting him off. He fell silent for a second.
“I haven’t even given it any thought since it happened,” he replied loftily, but it was clear from his tone of voice he was lying through his teeth.
A year or so earlier, he’d been up to take over the real estate division of the company. However, I’d decided to hang on to it for the time being. I wasn’t sure why at the time, but something in my gut told me I should keep control of it as long as I could. He’d been pissed; it meant he lost the upgrade in responsibility and salary. It never occurred to me at the time, however, he’d attempt to destabilize the entire company over it. I could hardly believe I was accusing him of blackmailing me, but I knew that’s what had happened. There was only one person who could have fudged those numbers, only one reason why the IRS might have come calling in the first place. He had deliberately sent up a red flag, something that told the Feds that someone was cooking the books in the business. In my business. I didn’t realize how much he held that against me, that he was bitter enough to risk his own job just to scrabble back some of the power he felt I had taken from him.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I paced back and forth in the conference room. Craig’s eyes followed me, not pulling his gaze from me. I wanted to hit him, just to get the feel of his eyes burning into me off.
“Zachary, everyone understands you’re not doing so well and haven’t been for a long time.” I turned around, glaring at him. His tone was so fucking patronizing I could have decked him right then.
“Don’t you dare use that against me,” I snarled. “I know what your fucking game is. I know the kind of shit you pull on people.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated, his face impassive. “I just know that people have said you’ve been paranoid and obsessive and this seems to be an extension of that.”
“Don’t pretend like you have a fucking clue about what I’ve been through, Craig.” I was pacing now, like a jungle cat. He was trying to mislead me, to make me doubt my own thoughts. What he didn’t know was that he was dealing with a master. I’d done enough of that by myself in the last six months. I wasn’t going to let him get in my head. I didn’t need any of this shit. But I couldn’t back away now, not when I’d gone this far. Not when there was so much to lose.
I turned away from him again. Even the sight of his face was enough to send a blinding rage darting through my entire body. After everything I had worked so hard for, everything my father had worked so hard for, this man was standing in front of me and telling me I was crazy. I hated it. I hated him. I hated myself for letting things get this far, for stepping back too far and allowing this man to get his greasy fucking fingers all over what we’d worked so hard to build.
“Just tell me the goddamn truth.”
“I am telling you the truth,” he assured me, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you’re having such trouble accepting that.”
“If you just tell me the truth, we can figure this out. We can back this down,” I pleaded with him. “There’s other stuff going on at the company, and we can tie it in to that, we can convince them you were made to do this. You won’t end up in any trouble. I just need you to tell me what’s going on, and we can move past this.”
“There. Is. Nothing. Going. On,” he replied, pronouncing each word out as though I were incompetent. And that was it, that was all I could take. After everything I’d learned that day, I felt as though my head was going to explode, and it all seemed to zero in on this moment, on this man, on this person I trusted with such an important part of my business. I had let him mislead me for God knows how long. I reached forward and grabbed him by the collar.
“Craig,” I snarled in his face one more time, and he paled even further. Up close, he was pathetic, more pathetic than I had ever been. He was practically quaking.
“Security!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, a little bit of spit landing on my face with the force of his words. Before I could jump away from him, hands on my back pulled me away, drawing me back toward the door. What the fuck were this many guards doing here? There was no way they needed this many. Maybe he’d expected something to go down. That was the only explanation.
Security pulled me back toward the door, past the secretary who looked frozen with fear. I didn’t make eye contact with her. I was humiliated, enraged, impotent. This was a building my father had put together, part of a business that would never have existed if it hadn’t been for my family. And I was being tossed out for trying to get answers.
This was an injustice, a bigger one than I’d ever imagined. The intruder treatment was so shocking that it pulled the plug on my fury. With the last bit of my sanity intact, I knew when to quit. The muscle they had in security overpowered me, they hauled my ass through the lobby and dumped me on the sidewalk like I was a drunk in a two-bit dive. They paused, eyeing me, making sure I accepted that I’d been kicked out of my own goddamn business. As much as I wanted to turn around and kick Craig’s ass, it wasn’t going to get me anywhere, but jail. I shot them both dark looks, brushed off my suit and headed to the parking lot.
I climbed into the car, leaned forward, and pressed my face against the wheel. Everything I did to contest this case confirmed their view of me as a crazy son of a bitch. Nice going, Rose. I walked right into their shit. This had all been perfectly planned to make it seem as though I was the one sailing completely off the rails, as though I was beyond crazy and couldn’t be trusted with the business. And the macho crazy act I just pulled played right into their hands. I couldn’t escape it. I’d been played. But I needed to find a way to turn things around or else I’d lose the business, and my father’s legacy, once and for all.
Chapter 28
Jessibelle
There wasn’t much time left before the final court date. Without all the pieces of evidence in place, the final stretch was racing by too quickly for comfort.
A full day had already passed since Zach had stormed out of here in search of something he refused to explain; I was tearing my hair out trying to figure out what he’d found that I hadn’t. I may have had a head start with the Johnathan angle of the investigation, but he had his family insight on this case. I’d never met Johnathan Rose, even after he’d taken over much of the business operations in Zach’s absence. So I didn’t really have a clue as to what we were dealing with.
I slumped into the creaky chair in Jacob’s office and tilted my head back against the headrest. None of this was right. And still, I didn’t have a clue how to confirm what I was already sure was true,
that people in the company were working against Zachary to sabotage his business. If we could expose them, this case would change in an instant. But we still lacked something vital, the key to the story that would bring everything together. I stared at the cracked ceiling and let out a long sigh, glad no one else was around to see how badly I was crapping out. It felt as though we’d entered every rabbit hole, rounded every corner, followed every thread that might have led to something solid and come up dead short—almost there but not quite, and it was driving me crazy.
The door opened, and Jacob entered. He walked quickly, panting like he’d just run all the way up from his car outside the building. I pushed upright in my seat and leaned forward waiting for some news. Any news.
“Do you have something?” I raised my hands expectantly, and he nodded. He tossed down an envelope on the table in front of me. I reached for it at once, pulling out a series of black-and-white photographs, and for a split second, I thought he’d followed someone. But these weren’t taken by Jacob. They looked slightly blurry, but the subjects were clear enough.
“Is that . . . ?” I trailed off, my mouth hanging open. Because it was. I recognized the people I was staring at, the logo of the posh restaurant, no doubt about it. But what did it prove?
“So, what do you think we have here? Judging from the restaurant, a gang of high rollers getting together for drinks. That helps me how?”
Jacob motioned me to keep going, so I continued to flip through the photos. In the next one the money shot was a handsome man in the center of the group, maybe a few years older than me, with dark hair carefully slicked back from his face. Though I could see he wasn’t related by blood to Zachary, they bore a passing resemblance, maybe something about the shared confidence in their eyes. Whatever it was, there was no mistaking who this was. Johnathan Rose. His arm was draped around a woman so beautiful, the camera struggled to capture the true extent of the dazzling smile or the glittering eyes of Alana Moffet. I did a double take and looked up at Jacob for confirmation. He rolled his eyes, as if to say, yup. None other.
Alana was leaning into Johnathan easily, a gesture that was clearly far from platonic. She had her hand on his knee and looked up at him with adoration in her eyes, the kind of look that made my heart sink for her, knowing what she was being dragged into, likely against her will. I could tell by the cut and color of Alana’s hair, too, that these were recent photos, proving that whatever she’d pulled back at the mansion was nothing more than an attempt to throw Zach off. Maybe they thought he was getting a little too close to the truth. But that still didn’t explain the next photo.
When I flipped over the next picture, I found myself looking at that bastard, Aston. What the hell was he doing there? Laughing at something or someone off camera. I could almost hear his obnoxious stupid laugh in my head. The look on his face was enough to send a pissed-off shiver down my spine, even though I knew the last thing I needed was to let him get to me.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I still didn’t know what I had here, but whatever it was, he was in on it as well. Conflict of interest for a start. When he said he’d walk away from the case, I guess he wasn’t lying, but he was still involved in some way and knew he could exploit both me and the case for his material gains. I didn’t know what else I expected from a man like him, honestly, and I was mad at myself for getting drawn in—even for a second—to his lies.
And to think, I might have tossed all this away for a man who was using me. As that clicked into my head, I thanked God I hadn’t taken him up on his offer to get back together. I couldn’t imagine how much worse this would feel if I’d been taken for a ride by my asshole ex. It was bad enough I was close to the evidence that might prove the collusion that Zach desperately didn’t want to be true. If only Jacob could give me concrete evidence.
“Where the hell did you get these?” I asked as I continued studying the rest of the photos.
“I have my sources,” Jacob explained with a shrug. He collapsed into the seat opposite me like the day had taken everything out of him
“Right.” I said, shaking my head as I made my way through the collection. There were so many people I recognized. The next was Craig Vector, the head of the real estate section of the company, grinning and downing the last of a glass of wine like it was water.
I continued through the pictures and turned up photos of most of the shareholders who’d filed complaints against Zach.
It wasn’t illegal for shareholders and employees and officers of the company to socialize but given the court case it was a little suspicious. “I see where you’re going with this, but photos don’t help us listen in on the conversation. Without a tape of the proceedings these pictures would get me laughed out of court, if not a contempt citation for taking up the judge’s time.”
Jacob tossed an indulgent smile my way as if I were a kid struggling to learn simple math. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Jessibelle. I understand Evidence and Procedure. I saved the best for last.” With that he pulled out another manila envelope and set it before me. “Have a look.”
“This better be good,” I warned. I was tired and not interested in a wild goose chase. I had a lot of work ahead of me and the last week had worn my energy and patience down to a nub. If Jacob was going to spin some more speculation on me just to rack up his billable hours, I was out of here, with plans to dictate a harsh memo to the head of the legal department to fire his ass and find someone who knew something about how to work the due diligence end of a successful court trial.
The skepticism in my eyes let him know he was on notice as I opened the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of documents. Copies of emails. “Where did you get these? We haven’t requested any search warrants or interrogatories. How did you get them to send these documents?”
“Just read them. We’ll strategize how to use them afterward.”
So I did. And my blood pressure spiked into the stratosphere as I realized what that meeting was all about.
Subject: Hang ‘em High
CC: Distribution
I leaned forward into the emails so I wouldn’t miss a word. These were copies of invitations to each of the people in the photos to a meeting at the restaurant to discuss screwing Zachary. Not in so many words. But clear enough so that I had all the ammunition I needed against the shareholders. Their names were listed under Distribution.
“Bring evidence of mental incompetency. Even if you have to make it up.”
“Free legal counsel on site.”
“RSVP ASAP.”
“Burn this memo as soon as you reply.”
I couldn’t believe this. It was precisely what we needed to argue collusion. Here was the conspiracy I’d suspected all along.
“And by the way,” Jacob said. “Those photos are date stamped. So we’ve got the email inviting them to the restaurant on that date. Photos date stamped on that date and the logo of restaurant in the pictures. What more do we need?”
I lowered my eyes at him. “Assurance you didn’t break into an office and steal this stuff and get these thrown out of court.”
Jacob rolled his eyes. “Jessibelle. Do I look stupid?”
When he told me his story I realized Jacob was a prince after all. I sprang into action. “I need to get these to Zach.” I got to my feet, grabbed the envelope, and stuffed it into my bag. Jacob stood to come with me, but I held my hand up to stop him.
“I think it’s important I do this myself.” I looked at him intently, letting him know I wasn’t fooling around, and he seemed to understand. When I got in my car, I texted Zachary to let him know I was on my way. I prayed he was in the office for once, that I wouldn’t have to go looking for him. To my relief, when I arrived and checked in with the secretary, she directed me upstairs.
“We’ve also got some people from your firm visiting,” she called after me as I headed for the center staircase, but I ignored her. I didn’t have time to cater to the partners of the firm, most of whom I’d barely met
over the last few weeks. I needed to get this to Zach right now, before I lost my nerve and before he did anything else that might land him in trouble.
I strode up the steps and arrived outside his office, but before I could head inside, I felt a familiar presence behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was my stepfather.
“Hello, Jessibelle.” He greeted me and slid his arms around my waist without waiting for a response. I froze on the spot. I was so used to this kind of behavior from him that I almost didn’t react, just stilled and waited for it to be over. But this time, I didn’t have the time or the energy to coddle his stupid little ego. Nor did I have the inclination. Still burning with rage over what Aston had tried to pull on me, I elbowed him off of me and turned around, looking him dead in the eye. I’d spent so long silently enduring his too-friendly hugs and pecks on the lips that this came as something of a shock.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, but I held my hand up for him to keep his mouth shut.
“Don’t ever touch me like that again,” I snapped. “If you do, I’m going to break your fucking arms, do you understand?”
His face went from confusion to anger over the course of a split-second.
“How dare you talk to me like that!” he spat, spittle flying out and landing on my face as he raised his voice and drew the attention of some other people in the office. “I got you this job.”
“I don’t care,” I replied, shaking my head, and I wasn’t just paying lip service. I really didn’t give a damn. “Fire me if you’d like. I’m not putting up with your shit any longer.”
“You won’t have to,” he pulled his shoulders back. “I’m going to—”
“I don’t have time for this.” I cut him off, my hand in front of his face. “I have shit to do and it doesn’t involve you.”
I eyed him for a bit longer, wondering if I should land one more blow. I figured I was in deep enough that it didn’t matter.