The Appearance of Impropriety [The Horsemen] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Skye Michaels

  After making sure that everyone had been served, Zack joined Tori and Alicia, and John and Jacques, with a heaping plate and a tall Bloody Mary. He greeted John and Jacques enthusiastically. He knew these people meant a lot to Tori, and he wanted to make them feel like special guests.

  * * * *

  Tori was proud of him, and her heart swelled with love. He was going out of his way to make her friends feel welcome, and she truly appreciated it—especially after their inauspicious start. She had to grin to herself when she remembered their wager. Tori leaned over and whispered in Zack’s ear, “Thank you.”

  He looked up with surprise in his eyes and said, “You’re welcome, baby.”

  The guests and players began to settle down while they waited for the second match to commence. The conversation was lively, and groups began to mingle as plates and glasses were refilled. Tori found herself sitting beside Zack’s teammate Jim Walker. She could see that he was curious about her and that she was a person of interest as the new lady in Zack’s life. She hoped she was making a good impression.

  “We’re all glad to see Zack so happy.” He laughed. “Zack usually has nerves of steel, but today he was jumping out of his skin. He told us we’d better win this one if we knew what was good for us. Did you enjoy the match?”

  “It was great, and I thought you were all wonderful. There were definitely a few scary moments, especially when Zack almost wiped out.”

  “Yeah. It can get a little hairy, but we’ve got a really good team. We work well together, even in the crunches.”

  “Zack seems really committed to polo and the team,” Tori replied.

  “It’s his military background. He has a strategy for every scenario, and it puts him a step ahead of the competition. We don’t always win, of course. Zack is one of the few patrons who does more than pay lip service to supporting American polo—you know, he walks the walk. Absolutely refuses to stack the team with foreign ringers. He’s the kind of guy that we’d do anything for. He’s my boss as well as my best friend. He’s a man to depend on.”

  Tori was happy to know that Zack’s friends and teammates thought so highly of him. As she was contemplating Jim’s remarks, her smile faltered. I don’t believe it. My first foray onto a polo field in years and it’s about to be ruined. Tori had spied the distinctive, slightly hawkish profile of her ex-husband, Alberto Alvarez, as he stepped into the tent to congratulate Zack. Damn! What luck. Maybe he won’t see me. She started to turn her face away so he wouldn’t see her, but no such luck. His gaze passed over the crowd and settled unerringly on her.

  Alberto finished offering his congratulations to Zack and turned in Tori’s direction. Zack, his shoulders in an aggressive set, a scowl on his face, was right behind him.

  Tori recalled the first time she had seen Alberto Alvarez at an international law seminar. They met when Tori was in her first year of law school and were married in her second year. They were both law students, but although Alberto was a year ahead of her, he had not taken his education or career seriously. It was a testimony to his innate intelligence and abilities that he had graduated in the top third of his class at the UM School of Law since he had put forth the minimum amount of effort. But he had been so handsome, so gallant, so attentive at first that she had been virtually swept off her inexperienced feet.

  After they were married, Tori soon discovered that Alberto was spoiled and self-centered. His position as the youngest of three sons of a wealthy Argentinean cattle family allowed him to globe trot and play international polo all over the world. He soon came to resent Tori’s dedication, first to her education and then to her career. She was determined to put her hard-won education to good use. Tori’s job became Alberto’s rival, and he was ever more resentful when her obligations kept her from traveling wherever polo took him. When she discovered he had been repeatedly unfaithful, she was heartbroken. However, she soon came to accept that Alberto’s selfish, hedonistic nature would never change.

  Realizing the bad situation would only get worse, Tori cut her losses and her legal and emotional ties to Alberto. When he realized he had lost her, perversely, he decided that Tori’s love was the one thing he most wanted. She had never been sure if it was love or ego. She put all her efforts into her career and her riding. Meanwhile, he continued his attempts to win her back while still doing all the things that had driven her away in the first place. It was definitely a lose-lose situation.

  As Alberto approached with Zack in his wake, Tori took a deep breath to steady her nerves, set a smile on her face, and raised her eyes to meet his. “Hello, Alberto. How are you?”

  “Wonderful, especially now that I see you are here, Toria. It is a surprise. I did not know you had retained an interest in polo. Could it be that you hoped to see me play? I am substituting for an injured White Rock player this afternoon.”

  “My renewed interest is quite recent, Alberto. How is your family? I hope everyone is well. I haven’t spoken with your mother in quite a while.” Thank goodness for small favors.

  “All is well. May I speak with you privately, corazon de mi vida, I would like to catch up on old times.”

  Heart of my life. What BS! “I’m surprised to see you as well, mojon de mi vida,” she replied in a surprisingly calm and even voice, all the while hoping no one in the immediate vicinity would realize she had called him the turd of her life.

  Alberto’s face turned a dull red. He reached for Tori’s arm just as Zack arrived at her side. Zack towered over both of them, and his presence was definitely a comforting one for Tori. “Everything okay here, sweetheart?” he asked as he took her arm and brought her up against his side in a possessive gesture that spoke for itself.

  “Ah, I see now,” Alberto responded. “Perdóneme. Perhaps we can have lunch one day soon, Toria. I would like to pick up my polo bag.”

  “I don’t see the point, Alberto.”

  “Fine, my love. Be well. I will be in touch.”

  I hope not. Those days are over.

  “Well done, Tori,” Zack whispered in her ear. “You sent him scurrying with his tail between his legs—and without the bag. Interesting endearment.” He grinned.

  “I don’t know about the scurrying part, but that was extremely satisfying,” she whispered back.

  “Let’s get a drink and watch some polo. I think a private toast is in order.”

  “Good idea. I’d like to see how these Busch boys measure up to Hard Drive.”

  “They’re good. No doubt about it. Another All-American team. I believe their handicap is on a par with ours, depending on who is playing.”

  * * * *

  During the break, as Zack was discussing the first half play with John and Jacques, he looked toward the next tent and heaved a silent sigh of disgust. This is certainly the day for old flames. Belinda Stone, an old girlfriend, was tent hopping in their direction. She was sure to notice him and invite herself in. As far as Zack was concerned, his short-lived relationship with Belinda had never been a serious one and was long over, but she was determined to push the matter at every opportunity.

  “Zack, darling! Wonderful game!” the tall, elegantly coiffed apparition cooed as she made her way toward Zack with a plastic smile pasted on her elaborately painted face.

  “Good afternoon, Belinda,” Zack said, rising to greet her. “Will you join us for a drink? You remember Mother, and may I present Tori Aldrich, John Damien, and Jacques DuBois.”

  “Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.” Belinda smiled briefly and turned her attention to Zack, patently ignoring the other members of the party before they had a chance to respond to the introduction. “I haven’t seen you in ages, Zack. We’ll have to have dinner next week.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll be tied up next week,” Zack replied, imagining himself “tied up” and at Belinda’s mercy. It wasn’t an appealing thought. It was definitely enough to make him shudder inwardly. Forced by his innate good manners to be polite, Zack offered Belinda a seat and left to brin
g her a drink.

  Zack watched with interest over his shoulder as Belinda turned her attention to the next most important person in the party, Zack’s mother. “What a pleasant surprise to see you, Mrs. Talbot. I’m afraid I haven’t had much time for charity work this year, but I really must do some work for cancer soon. It’s such a good cause.”

  “That would be nice, Belinda. We can always use more willing hands,” Alicia replied with a knowing smile. Clearly, it would be a cold day in hell before Belinda Stone turned her hand to anything as mundane as charity work. Belinda was known to be a social climbing socialite whose main occupations in life were lunching, gossiping, shopping, and tennis—not necessarily in that order.

  “I was surprised to see Zack tailgating. He is usually too wrapped up in the game and his horses to socialize after a match,” Belinda continued, glossing over the opportunity to do charity work.

  “I believe this afternoon’s party was in honor of Tori,” Alicia replied benignly as she stroked Muffin, who had staked a claim to her lap.

  Belinda turned her attention to Tori and said, “I don’t believe I’ve heard of you. Are you anyone?”

  Before Tori could form a reply, Zack returned with Belinda’s drink, and Tori turned to smile at him sweetly as he delivered it. “I’m sorry, Zack, but could you get me a drink as well?”

  Zack knew when something was up. His mother hadn’t raised a fool. The hair on the back of his neck began to prickle, but reluctantly he turned to get Tori another drink. Something’s brewing. That sweet smile doesn’t bode well for someone. Hope it’s not me.

  * * * *

  Belinda’s attention had not shifted during Tori’s brief exchange with Zack, and she silently took inventory of the woman who appeared to be her current competition. She was attractive, Belinda had to admit. But she’s certainly not a Palm Beach someone or I would know her. “Are you from Palm Beach?”

  “No, I’m from Coral Gables,” Tori replied with a smile. “But some of my family were Palm Beachers.”

  “Miami! No one is from Miami! Everyone down there is either a transplanted Yankee from New York or a Cuban. The few who don’t fit into those categories are crackers.”

  John and Jacques, having been roundly ignored during this exchange, were both clearly beginning to sizzle.

  “I guess you could call me a cracker,” Tori replied with deceptive calm.

  Before she could continue, however, Jacques interrupted heatedly. “Darling Tori! How could you? Your Flagler forbearers would be turning, absolutely turning, in their graves!”

  John interrupted Jacques and, turning to Belinda, continued, “Tori’s a fourth—or is it fifth—generation Floridian descended from Henry Flagler.”

  “Really, John. Great-great-grandma was only a Flagler cousin, after all,” she interrupted with a grin.

  Belinda looked stricken. A Flagler? Perhaps she had picked the wrong bitch in this dog fight after all.

  * * * *

  Zack had rejoined the party with Tori’s drink in hand in time to hear the last exchange. He glanced at John and Jacques with a conspiratorial grin. Tori could handle the likes of Belinda Stone with one hand tied behind her back, but he was glad someone else was ready to jump into the fray on her side. “Here’s your drink, sweetheart,” he said as he took his seat next to Tori. He wasn’t going to be outdone in the gallantry department.

  “Thank you, dear,” she replied with a telling look in his direction that spoke her thoughts as clearly as if she had spoken aloud. Then she whispered, “I can handle your old girlfriends myself.”

  On that note, spying the lay of the land, Belinda beat a hasty retreat as she blew kisses in the general direction of everyone. “It’s been lovely. See you all soon. Must mingle!”

  Alicia, silent since she had stirred up the hornets’ nest, said, “Good show, Tori. I never could understand what Zack saw in that woman. If she’s ever done a day’s charity work, or any work for that matter, I’ll eat—”

  “Mother…”

  “Now, Zachary….”

  Tori broke in. “Tit for tat. We’re even in the ‘ex’ department. Let’s just enjoy the match and forget the unpleasant interruptions.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Monday morning when Tori arrived at the office, Sharon Hill was already at her desk hard at work. She looked up from her computer with a slightly harried expression as she broke her concentration. “Good morning. Have a nice weekend?”

  “It was great!” Tori responded with a smile. “What are you working on?”

  “Z-Tech v. Green of course. Do we have any other files?”

  “Oh, no. Of course not. It’s our one and only priority.” Tori grinned as she stepped into her office and closed the door. As she sank down into her buttery leather desk chair, the intercom buzzed, and Sharon’s voice filled the room. “Grossman’s office just noticed us for a depo of Mr. Green on Wednesday at one o’clock at their office. Do you want me to try to reschedule?”

  “No, I guess not. We might as well get it over with. Call Green and have him come in for a pre-depo conference tomorrow afternoon. I’m going to call the computer consultant who’s analyzing the e-mail archiver and file transfer protocols on the web filter and see what he’s come up with so far. Have we received any downloads of the activity reports and searches yet?”

  “Nothing yet. I’ll call Green. Is one o’clock okay?”

  “That’s fine, Sharon.” Tori leaned back in her chair, pensive. There was something bothering her about this case, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Guess it will come to me sooner or later. She pulled up her contacts on Outlook, looked up the number for Jorge Martinez, picked up the phone, and dialed the forensic technologist. When Jorge was on the line, Tori said, “Time’s getting short, Jorge. What do you have for me on Z-Tech’s e-mail archiver and web filter? I sent you the credentials several days ago.”

  “I was going to call you this morning. I’ve looked through the activity reports and searches, and there’s the usual traffic you would expect in the intra-company transmissions. Some correspondence regarding financial matters to an e-mail address in Palm Beach, chitchat between the corporate headquarters and the plant regarding orders, shipments, and such. You can access the activity reports and searches on the website. But there is something a little strange in the outgoing stuff. About nine months ago, there were massive early a.m. transfers to an FTP server in Fort Lauderdale of what looks like entire files of digital material, you know, computer language. I haven’t tried to implement it or anything yet.”

  “Could it be a program?” Tori asked as suspicion began to form in her mind, and a chill passed down her back.

  “That’s what it looks like. I’ll have to study it more carefully to see if I can tell what it’s for.”

  “Jorge, it’s imperative that I know what that stuff is as soon as possible, who sent it out, who received it. My client is going to be deposed on Wednesday, and I don’t want to walk into a trap.”

  “I’ll get back to you ASAP.”

  Tori leaned back and closed her eyes. One unpleasant possibility that crossed her mind was that her client just might have exported the program files to his home computer in Fort Lauderdale. If so, she would have to confront him about it. If Jorge can find this out, I’m sure a technology company can do it a lot easier—if they knew what they were looking for, and I’m sure they would.

  The day passed slowly. While waiting to hear from Jorge Martinez about the mysterious contents of the e-mail archiver and web filter, Tori reviewed the Z-Tech files in preparation for her pre-depo meeting with Green the following day. He did not enjoy “most favored client” status, but that only meant she had to try harder. She combed through piles of documents, reviewing snippets she had tagged with yellow stickies, and made up a list of the questions she thought the opposition would most likely ask Green so that she could prepare him for the deposition on Wednesday.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Several blocks
away in the penthouse offices of Grossman, Connelly, Whitman, DeCostanza & Segal, P.A., Bob, one of his young associates, Gene Schaeffer, and Cindy were encamped in the library, files spread over the large conference table, doing the same thing—analyzing files, preparing questions, anticipating likely answers, and formulating more follow-up questions. They were hoping to provoke Green into making a mistake, giving them an opening to challenge his credibility. Green had a volatile personality and could be bombarded with controversial questions guaranteed to garner an improvident answer. Of course, his attorney would counter that they were being argumentative.

  “Gene, how far have you gotten with the analysis of the discovery materials delivered to Ms. Alvarez, especially the e-mail archiver and web filter?” Gene and Cindy were the only people in the firm he had trusted with the information about Zack’s unfortunate alliance with Victoria Alvarez. As far as he knew, the only other person involved with the suit who knew was Chuck Jackson. Zack and Chuck were tight, and Zack didn’t keep anything from him.

  “Amazingly enough, none of the discovery contained any reference to Mr. Talbot by name. Z-Tech’s parent company, Hard-Drive Specialties, Incorporated, is the only shareholder listed in the Articles of Incorporation of Z-Tech. Hard-Drive is a wholly owned subsidiary of the holding company, CZT Enterprises. Fortunately, Ms. Alvarez only requested corporate documentation on Z-Tech and Hard-Drive, but she hasn’t gotten around to requesting any corporate documentation on CZT, which is the last layer of the corporate veil where his name will, of course, pop up.”

  “Gene, you know, of course, that I formed every single one of those entities! I know who is the subsidiary of whom. I want to know what’s on that e-mail archiver and if Zack’s name accidently leaked into anything else we may have given her.”