“Make it half. He’s not happy.”
After Paul hangs up, I call Slate. Waiting for him to pick up, I study my office ceiling, the walls, and the heating ducts. I’m fucking paranoid. Xavier could’ve bugged the whole place when he was working in this office. How am I going to get rid of them without tipping him off ?
“What’s up, boss?” Slate’s voice brings me back to the reason I called.
“We need to take a trip to the DA’s.”
“Huh? I thought he dropped the charges.”
“He wants to see both me and Isabella.”
“So, you guys are good again?”
“That’s a negative.” Long ago, me and Slate came up with a code phrase when under duress. He knows I mean the exact opposite.
“Sorry to hear that. I really like Isabella. I’ll be waiting out front.”
“Thanks.” I call Isabella’s cellphone and try to sound pissed off which is pretty hard considering how I just left her. “Get your ass into my office, Harte. Now. The DA is asking for you. What the fuck did you do now?”
She sounds surprised. “I have no idea. Be there in a moment and… try not to be such an asshole.”
I stifle a laugh at her horrible acting, then get a bit worried. What if Xavier catches on, too? I need to put an end to this bullshit and soon.
Once we’re safely stuck in traffic, Slate glances in the rearview and frowns at Isabella’s bruised face. “Who did that to you? Whoever it is, you stay away from him, you hear, honey?”
He gives me a worried look and I give a short shake of the head which means we’ll talk later. After, he pulls in front of the columned building, he runs around the front of the limo, and snaps open an umbrella. A gust of wind flips it inside out and me and Izzy are soaked by the time we step into the lobby, dripping our way through security.
After signing the visitor’s log, the officer points us toward the elevator and we silently exit onto the fourth floor.
“Can I help you?” A receptionist looks up, momentarily startling me by the number of piercings in her face.
How does she get through the metal detector?
I’m about to announce that we have an appointment when my lawyer, Paul, struts toward us and ushers us into the first room on the left.
I shake hands and smile. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
Frowning, he glances through reading glasses propped on the lower edge of his nose. “The DA isn’t pleased. Basically, all this publicity is creating pressure for the DA’s office to drop the case against Cross.”
“How the fuck is that possible? The guy stole millions from my dad’s company? And I’m pretty damn sure he murdered my human resource director.”
“I am sure he did.” Isabella pipes in from the peanut gallery.
Paul sighs heavily, takes off his glasses, and cleans them with a white handkerchief. Then, he addresses her as one might a child. “Her body hasn’t been found so there’s no crime other than a missing person.”
I give him my pissed-off-the-billionaire look and he has the good sense to politely pull out a chair so Isabella can sit. When the door opens, my jaw drops.
God dammit all to hell.
If it weren’t for Paul, I’d take a fist into Xavier’s smug face. I don’t even give a shit that the guy with him is his lawyer. Both are dressed in high-priced suits, no doubt paid for with the money Xavier stole from my dad’s company.
Then Sam King, the DA enters, equal frowns for all. He clears his throat and indicates we should sit. After statements are read and questions are fired off, Isabella refuses to meet my gaze.
Instead, she stares at the forms in front of her. “It’s true, I never actually saw Xavier in the woods that night.”
Sam reads from a twelve-inch screen placed on the table in front of him. “It says right here that you heard his voice.”
“I know. But I’ve thought about it a lot since. It was so terribly cold. I had frostbite, you know. Hypothermia. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
This is bullshit.
My fist bangs on the wood. “God damn it, Isabella. They almost killed you. You need to testify.”
She looks up at me sadly, wipes her nose and shakes her blond head back and forth. “I’m so sorry, Gray. I just can’t be sure.”
That fucking bastard. He’s blackmailing her and I can’t do a damn thing about it.
As if he can hear my thoughts, his lawyer shoots me a triumphant smile, scoots back in his chair and stands as if to leave. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you very much. I don’t think we’ll be filing a wrongful arrest suit, although we should.”
Clenching my fists, I also come to my feet. “Whatever. The embezzlement charges still stand.”
Isabella looks at me across the table, her eyes begging me to say no more. “I stole the money, Gray. All of it. It was me.”
The whole room stares with their mouths open except Xavier who wears a shit-eating grin.
It takes a few moments but I gather a few brain cells and manage to say, “Impossible.”
Her eyes study a scratch in the table and she bites on her lower lip which is a clear tell she’s lying. “It was before you came to the company. I needed the money.”
“And what did you do with all this money, Ms. Harte?” The question comes from the red-faced DA whose neck is twitching.
“Stop, Ms. Harte, please.” Paul runs across the room but it’s too late.
She keeps that mouth flapping. “It’s in the Cayman’s. If I promise to give it back, will you lessen my sentence?”
I look to Samuel King. “Are you buying this crock of shit?”
“You heard her, Patten. And she’s got a history of this kind of thing.”
“Whaaa?”
The man looks at me, somewhere between pity and pissed. “She spent time in juvie for hacking into a bank in her teens. Her record was closed unless she ever tried anything like it again. I do believe this would qualify as tried again.”
That’s the final straw.
I jump across the table, take Xavier by his necktie and bang his head against the wall, my face in his. “You mother fucker. I swear to God I will take you down.”
It takes Paul, Slate, and two police officers to get me off from him but Xavier got my message. When I’m done with him, he won’t see anything but bars for the rest of his life.
“You really need to chill, dude.” He brushes off his Italian suit and slicks back his hair with a palm but the smug look is gone.
The asshole nods at his lawyer who says, “I guess we’ll be pressing charges, after all.”
God damn it. He did it again.
After they go, I don’t even look at Paul because I know what he’s thinking. Again, I lost my cool but Xavier Cross is a fucking criminal, is blackmailing Isabella, and is getting away with it.
Poor Izzy. She won’t meet my gaze but Paul is one hundred percent on it and he slaps me on the back. “I’ll make sure they post bail, immediately.”
He was my father’s lawyer before I came along and I trust him fully. So, while he takes her out of the room with the police officers, I’m stuck alone with the DA.
He stares for a few minutes, no doubt trying to find composure before speaking. “Care to clue me in? I don’t believe a word she said.”
“I need just a few days, then I swear I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“Fine. I won’t contest bail but fix this fast, Patten.”
Hell ya, I will.
Xavier is going down.
Chapter 8
Isabella
Dim fluorescents light the cracked white paint on the water-stained walls. Dirt and flat wads of old gum dot the linoleum. Dressed in salvation army chic, I fit right in.
And then there’s Paul, Gray’s impeccably suited lawyer. He shoots me a look that I haven’t seen since Mom let the Feds take me off to juvie.
“Thanks for doing this.” I manage a tight smile to which his mouth turns down.
> Fuzzy gray brows rise below his short spiky cut. “If it were me, I’d lock you up and throw away the key.”
What a prick.
I wish I could tell him that the charges are all bullshit but Xavier’s damn necklace is still transmitting. “You think I deserve this?”
“Indeed, I do but Grayson doesn’t and he’s the one paying the bills.” He shakes his head and stares over his reading glasses, in a kind of a cat-staring contest but I don’t blink.
Fuck him.
I didn’t steal a damn thing. However, I did hack into a local bank just for a lark as a teen. The high was better than any drug until some money showed up missing. The stupid FBI agent asked me to return the cash which of course I couldn’t because I didn’t take any. When I explained all this and asked for a computer to prove it, they refused and locked me up.
Suddenly, I get this epiphany as it dawns on me that Xavier must’ve known about my past all along. I always wondered why he hired me. Most of his protégés are geeky young men or brainless women with huge boobs. He must’ve been planning to embezzle those funds for ages.
Shit.
While I chew on this, Grayson’s lawyer argues for my release with the assistant district attorney who wants to keep me away from computers. Paul says I’m innocent until proven guilty and that my confession in the other room was coerced.
Damn. He’s a lot closer to the truth than he knows.
For over an hour, I sit in this dingy room, biting my nails, and wishing for a cigarette which I gave up years ago.
“Don’t leave town, Ms. Harte.” The district attorney enters with brows creased, mouth tight, and underarms wet.
“No sir, I won’t.” It’s a lie because I have to get out of town, warn my family, and figure out how to get rid of Xavier Cross… all without getting caught.
When we’re done, the door opens, and Grayson walks across the hall to take my hand. “C’mon Isabella, let’s get out of here.”
I try to read him but when he wants, his poker face can be unreadable. Then me, him, and the lawyer all walk past an area full of cubes, plastic chairs, and cursing gang members. Once outside, I take a deep breath of cold, free air, squinting in the bright sunlight. The March wind cuts through my light coat like it’s January and I shiver as I wait for Slate to drive up with the limo.
Grayson’s jaw is tight when he opens his mouth to talk which is not a good sign. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a history of illegal hacking?”
“Because it was supposed to be erased. I was a minor. And how does that matter, anyhow?”
“Dammit Isabella. Is it ever going to change between us? Are you ever going to open up to me?” With his neck pulsing and his face so skewed, I hardly recognize him.
I raise my necklace to remind him that Xavier can hear every word but he slaps it away.
So, I get a little pissed off, too, and my voice goes up a notch. “What? I bet you got things you haven’t said shit about, either.”
“You know what? You’re right. We don’t know each other. You can keep the ring.”
With those four words my whole life falls apart and my chest gets so tight that I can’t even breathe. “Y-you’re breaking up with me?”
Suddenly, the back seat of the limo is way too small and I pull on the door handle. “Stop the car, Slate. Let me out.”
From the front seat, the driver’s brows raise in a question mark and Grayson answers. “Pull over at the next subway stop.”
He pulls three crisp one-hundred dollar bills out of his wallet and clamps my hand around them. “This should see you through. I’ll see to it your last paycheck is deposited immediately. Don’t bother to come back into the office.”
Slate stops on Fourteenth, I get out, and stand and stare at the disappearing taillights.
What the hell just happened? Just this morning, didn’t he make the sweetest love to me in the shower?
I knew he’d get sick of me one day even with all his bullshit about love at first sight. I was right. There’s no such thing, only lust and chemical attraction. Love is nothing more than a petri dish.
Ah shit, I can’t deal with my screwed-up love life, not with Xavier after my family. Dammit, if Gray doesn’t want to be with me, to hell with him.
I swallow hard and dig my knuckles into my eyes. I am not going to cry about losing the best damn thing that ever happened to me. I should be used to this. I ruin everything, always have.
I step down the long stairs, swipe my metro card, and enter into the dark subway station. Staring down at the power rails, I swallow back tears. The train roars into the station, I step back, and the cars swirl by until coming to a full stop. It isn’t until I find a seat that I put my face to my knees and sob.
It’s time to give up on my dreams of living in New York City and go back to Minnesota. My mom will be ecstatic to see me and maybe I can get a job as a remote consultant and work online. If not, I was a pretty good waitress in college. No doubt, those skills will return as fast as the feelings of humiliation and defeat.
I should call Mel. I know she’ll understand but she is so successful. Hell, she’s married to an NFL star, has a baby, and a great job. Next to her life, mine is a complete and total wreck. Not that I’m jealous or maybe I am.
Tears well again. What kind of friend does that make me?
A loser, that’s what kind.
Is it my fault that neither Gray nor I can talk about our personal shit? Every time we get together, we end up in bed and we don’t do pillow-talk well. In truth, neither one of us likes to talk much at all. Two people like that could never make it as a couple.
I was always afraid it would come to this. Isn’t that why I put off the wedding? Somehow, though, I hoped we’d learn to chit-chat. I always wanted to talk about movies, the beach, meteor showers, and stuff like that. Other than knowing that his father died and his parents got divorced when he was a kid, I’m pretty clueless about his past.
I never shared mine, either, but that’s different. Sooner or later, he’d ask about my fucked-up cousin. No doubt, he’d want to know why I never told anybody. How can I explain that it would’ve killed my poor Mom? Shit like that breaks families apart, forever.
Man. My life totally sucks but there isn’t time to wallow in the past. I need to get on a plane, put on my big-girl panties, and warn my brother that Stacey is in danger.
I know that the DA said I needed to stay close and I will, right after I fix this.
The first thing I need is the latest in Patten technologies. I grab a cab and head to the warehouse. There, I sign out everything I need. All I have to say is I’m testing out this government thing I’m working on, give a special code, and no one bats an eyelash.
I’m hoping, if I do this real quick, Xavier won’t notice. He can’t possibly keep an eye on me twenty-four-seven. He must’ve hired some lackeys that only sit and stare at monitors. Usually, guys like that aren’t too bright. By the time Xavier knows I was at the warehouse, I’ll have checked my home for bugs.
Once I get back, I use the wand to sweep every room. There’s one in my overhead kitchen light, two in my bedroom, and worst of all, one in my bathroom.
Tapping into his cameras, I make a short recording from each perspective. When Xavier doesn’t ping me, my confidence grows and quickly I get out my computer. I still need a loop of me sleeping in the bedroom. Carefully, I place the necklace on my bed and play sounds of a woman sleeping that I found on YouTube.
Soon, I have all the videos in place and switch the application on. Xavier and whoever else is watching will think I’m sound asleep in my apartment.
Filling the tea kettle with water, I call my mom.
“Isabella? I hardly recognized your voice.” That’s mom-speak for ‘you haven’t called for ages.’
I teeter on a step-stool to reach for the teabags on the top shelf. “I’m sorry. I know it’s been a couple weeks.”
“A month, more like it.” Her voice sounds hurt-for-real and suddenl
y I feel like the worst daughter, ever.
“I really am sorry. I’ve been working fifty, maybe sixty hours a week… ”
and I did have a new boyfriend but that’s over, now.
I climb down, fold the stool, and stash it next to the refrigerator. Then, I sniff the box of calming teas, choose the one that smells least like freshly cut grass, and place it in a large mug.
“Ah honey, I’m just teasing. What’s up? Do you need money?”
I laugh. In Mom’s eyes I never got past the stage of impoverished college student. “I’m fine. I’m coming home for a few days. Is that okay?”
“Of course, it is. I’d love that, sweetie.” She pauses for a moment before asking, “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
Everything is wrong.
My voice cracks. “I just really need to come home, Mommy. Would you do me a big favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you tell Ronnie to keep Stacey home? Tell Uncle Josh that someone threatened to take her. I promise to explain everything when I get home. Someone may be listening to this call. I can’t say more.”
“My Goodness. Oh my. I’ll meet you at the airport. When does your flight arrive?”
“Tomorrow around ten. Is that okay?”
“I’ll be there.”
“I got to go. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Can’t wait to see you.”
That done, I try to catch a catnap but my thoughts whirl. Even with the calming tea, my eyes refuse to close. How am I going to live without Grayson?
When my cell phone rings, I jump, and turn on my new code that switches my fake loop to live content.
Did I miss a bug? Did he overhear me warn my mom?
“What do you want, Cross?” My heart thumps wildly.
“No need to be like that. I called to tell you how sorry I am that Grayson dumped you and that I want you to come to a party with me, tonight. I want to start over with you, Isabella.”
“Sure.” I sound enthused but actually, it’s a relief that my code worked.
“Awesome. I’m sending a woman over with a few outfits. You can choose the one you like best. She’ll be doing your makeup and hair as well. I expect you to look top-notch.”
The CEO's Lucky Charm: A Billionaire Novella (Players Book 6) Page 4