Opportunity (Office Roulette, Book Three)

by Kennedy Layne

  As in…she was the one.

  “Sordid pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it?” Cynthia said rather reluctantly, though she propped a pillow up against the arm of the chair and rested her back against the additional support. She wiggled her toes and stared at her manicured nails polished in the shade of her lipstick. “I was naïve.”

  “Everyone’s a sucker a time or two in their lives.” It was the reason Gareth had invested money in Brad’s firm to begin with, though it wasn’t the reason he ended up keeping a percentage of his money in the hedge fund. “My mother tells me all the time that it’s our bad experiences that shape us into a better person.”

  “Your mother?”

  “You know, the woman who raised me,” Gareth clarified with a fond smile, not wanting Cynthia to get off topic. He’d already made the decision to share his childhood with her. There was no going back, but they had a pressing issue with Langston if he was going to be an immediate problem. “It’s aggravating as hell, but she’s always right.”

  Cynthia hardly ever varied from the path in front of her, but he could easily sense that she’d jump the tracks if it meant she didn’t have to give Langston another thought. Unfortunately, if her relationship with the asshole was going to be front and center in tomorrow’s headlines in connection with Brad Manon’s murder…well, it needed to be addressed before they became too distracted.

  Gareth kneaded his fingers into the arch of her foot to soften the blow.

  “Cynthia, tell me what happened. How did you become involved with a man like Langston?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Cynthia had spent the entire day going back and forth over a myriad of emotions. She’d been angry at Gareth for keeping information from her that was vitally important—not only to her career, but most importantly to their relationship. Then Meredith had walked in, bringing along with her a past that Cynthia would rather forget ever happened.

  Forget was rather a loose word.

  She’d wanted the past to stay dead and buried, six feet under. Make that twenty, for good measure. As a matter of fact, she wanted it cremated and the ashes to be scattered somewhere over Lake Superior that banished it forever to nowhere.

  If there was one thing she hated more than the wrong shade of lipstick, it was being made a fool of by someone undeserving—a lowly peon.

  “I met Kurt in a restaurant’s lounge after having had dinner with Brad and Paul regarding Vern’s seat on the board of directors. They weren’t taking my advice on the fact that Phil Colbert should be the one to have that seat. He had more experience and had proven his worth to the firm ten times over.”

  Gareth had heard a lot about office politics regarding Manon Investments from her, so this bit of news wasn’t anything new to him. Like with any business, things changed upon the flip of a coin…or so it seemed.

  One of Cynthia’s best friends had come into her own, earning a seat at the table. Laurel one hundred percent deserved the partnership spot that was up for grabs.

  As for Smith Gallo, that man wasn’t meant to have a seat on any table. It was written in his DNA not only to be one of the players, but to own the table and deal the seats out to the true power brokers of his own business.

  “Anyway, Kurt was at the bar and offered to buy me a drink.” Cynthia took a sip of her wine to wash away the distaste of those painful memories. She doubted that the entire bottle could achieve that success tonight. “He was charming, every bit a gentleman at that moment, and had the ability to make a woman not want to look past the façade. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Hell, I was nothing but a mind-numbed minnow by the time he got done dangling a weekend in Paris.”

  The thing of it was, Cynthia truly didn’t care about material items. Sure, she bought designer shoes and handbags. Their workmanship was superior. She was a sucker for Prada, but even more so Jimmy Choo. She certainly didn’t mind paying for quality over quantity.

  Bottom line, she dressed for success with discerning taste.

  That didn’t mean she couldn’t don a pair of faded blue jeans, topped off with a white cotton sleeveless t-shirt when the need arose. She worked the skin right off her fingers when she pitched in to help build houses for Habitat for Humanity.

  Gareth had even convinced her to fly to Cambodia to help him scout for land in order to set up regional health clinics. He’d said at the time that her enthusiasm to help others was astounding to witness, but even more so enjoyable to observe when she’d gone into an orphanage to play with abandoned children who had nothing but her attention.

  It was rare they ever ventured too much into their personal goals in life, but he had mentioned that he’d love to adopt when he was finally ready for that phase of his life.

  Her heart was still agonizing at where the still fresh wound was inflicted by the discovery that he hadn’t been truthful about his past out of lack of trust.

  Honestly, the only thing he’d told her about his childhood was that he was from a family who’d made it their mission to help others with their less than modest wealth. The family’s trust funds had more cash in the accounts than the next five generations could spend in their lifetimes. It was the reason he’d obtained a master’s degree in humanities. He wanted to continue the tradition of his family by helping others—helping people to help themselves through hospitals and schools.

  “When did you find out he was married?”

  “There was a small article written in the society pages about a local tech company that was about to explode. Imagine my surprise to read that Kurt Langston had the most supportive wife when it came to that endeavor. I never thought the expression seeing red was literal until that very moment.”

  Cynthia set her wineglass on the coffee table, giving herself the ability to remove her suit jacket. The confines of the material were too tight given the lack of any moving air, and she needed a bit of breathing room. She still had on a white silk blouse that was complemented by a string of pearls. It was by far his favorite piece of jewelry she owned, though that most likely had to do with the fact that he’d made love to her while that was the only object on her body.

  It was also the reason she wore her pearls every time he was town. There was nothing wrong with a bit of mischievous behavior now and then.

  “I confronted Kurt that same night, though he’d been expecting my reaction because of the article.” Cynthia settled back against the pillow with her wineglass in hand. Gareth had stopped kneading her arches and was lightly stroking the soft skin of her calves. It dawned on her that Kurt had never taken the time to sit with her like this when they could spare a few minutes together. She supposed it wasn’t that much of a shock to learn that Kurt was nothing but a conniving scumbag with money. He never really made much of an effort to disguise that fact. She’d just been blind. “He quickly turned the tables and all but threatened me if I so much as breathed a word of our affair to anyone in our mutual social circles. You see, we’d both agreed at the start to keep our relationship quiet for various other reasons, but it turned out that the key reason was because of a marriage I hadn’t known existed.”

  “And Brad’s connection to Langston? I’m having trouble understanding why Langston would provide evidence of such an affair in a letter to your boss.”

  Gareth hadn’t touched a drop of his second drink. She had a rising suspicion that he might need a clear head in case he needed to make some urgent phone calls to clear up this unfortunate problem. His altruistic lifestyle might make an unscrupulous person believe he was a mark, but he was anything but in matters that concerned his family and the handling of their humanitarian pursuits.

  She certainly didn’t fit in that specific category, but something told her that he’d go the extra mile for her. It was the sole reason she hadn’t left him another voicemail that she was cutting all ties. She couldn’t bring herself to cut the cord that bound them.

  Gareth had cut his business trip short, proving to her that he wasn’t giving up on what they’d built ov
er the course of eight months. Granted, she’d tried to do the right thing by walking away in the first place. Everyone had become a bullseye in this game of office roulette. She hadn’t wanted Gareth or herself to become the next victim of the unknown killer.

  “I know. It doesn’t make any sense,” Cynthia said with a shake of her head. She barely suppressed a groan of pleasure when Gareth began once again to knead the arch of her foot. There was something so damned sexy about a man who knew how to use his hands in the right way. “Don’t get me wrong. Kurt didn’t come right out and confess that we’d had an affair in the letter, though I could see why Meredith would believe there was a connection between us. His words indicated that he would sue should any employee of Manon Investments smear his name for any reason.”

  “That tells me that Brad already knew of your affair with Langston.” Gareth was obviously assuming the same thing she was regarding the letter. Something wasn’t adding up, but it wasn’t like Brad was around for them to ask questions. “Did you let it slip to Brad that you had been seeing Langston?”

  “No, not at all.” Cynthia answered with absolute conviction. “My name was included in the letter, but more so as the compliance officer who had a job to do, which is why Meredith brought me the letter. She had no idea that I’d had been a victim of an affair with Kurt.”

  “Does Meredith know now?”

  “Absolutely.” Cynthia met his gaze. She wanted to gauge his reaction to her reply, but it wasn’t like he’d cast any stones. Her confession hadn’t had him running in the other direction. “I didn’t see a point in hiding it if I was going to come clean with the police. She needed to know that I had nothing to do with this matter.”

  Cynthia had called Detective Nielsen right after Meredith left the office. He’d been the detective who’d questioned Gareth about his empty threat to kill Brad. His words had been taken out of context, presumably by Marilyn.

  Definitely by Marilyn.

  Truthfully, it wouldn’t surprise Cynthia in the least if Marilyn knew exactly who killed Brad Manon. The woman was a wealth of information, both public and private, but wasn’t there always one of those individuals in every office?

  “Which is why you believe that Langston will be front page news tomorrow.”

  “Most certainly. A juicy tidbit like that? You know someone down at the station will leak Kurt Langston’s involvement to the press. It only makes sense.” Cynthia bit her bottom lip as she imagined the chaos that would erupt over the news. It wasn’t her intention to hurt Kurt’s wife. “What if I’m wrong, though? What if whatever clandestine clash that was going on between Brad and Kurt had nothing to do with me?”

  Then an innocent woman would end up being hurt by some extramarital affair that happened three years ago.

  Cynthia had struggled a lot back then on whether or not to reach out to Jane Langston. The woman had no idea what her husband did in his spare time. She didn’t deserve to be married to a man who had so little respect for her, but some quaint social nicety had stopped Cynthia from making contact with Kurt’s wife—and her reservations had nothing to do with Kurt’s threat.

  Had Cynthia only been wanting to ease her own conscience? If so, that wouldn’t have been fair to Jane Langston. Cynthia would have appeared to be a bitch who’d set out to catch a married man, regardless that the assumption was furthest from the truth, and Kurt would have somehow come out smelling like roses.

  Looking back, it was clear that she hadn’t done anything wrong. That didn’t absolve her of the guilt she felt for sleeping with a conniving asshole who’d purposefully misled her in their time together just to get into her panties.

  “That’s why we’re going to leave the matter to the professionals. It’s a police matter.” Gareth’s brown eyes began to flash those gold flecks, all but warning her that the outcome of any other decision could be very, very bad. He must have heard in more detail what Grace and Rye had gone through from Smith. “You did what you thought best, now it’s time to leave well enough alone.”

  Cynthia cocked an eyebrow, but he wasn’t about to be drawn into a debate over Kurt. She couldn’t help but smile behind the rim of her glass. They still had a lot of ground to cover tonight, but she needed to take a minute after having bared her heart regarding a mistake that would have eaten at her soul for the rest of her life.

  It was better that it was all out in the open.

  “I’m serious, Cyn. Some homicidal psychopath saw fit to kill Brad Manon in cold blood. I wasn’t here when Grace was caught in the killer’s crosshairs, but I don’t want you anywhere near that playing field. This individual is playing for keeps.”

  She wasn’t going to argue with him, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take the time to grill Marilyn a little more than usual. What would be wrong with learning more about the employees she worked with five days out of the week? No one ever wanted to be friends with the compliance officer. That meant she had to use certain tactics to keep tabs on everyone’s personal lifestyle that just might affect the business.

  Cynthia took another sip of her wine, thinking about the two women who made her job just measurably bearable.

  Laurel and Grace were the exception to the rule. It was Laurel who had connected the three of them during a social event, and neither one of them seemed to care that Cynthia was the overseer of all legal activities at the firm. The fact that Laurel had come strutting into the office with a bottle of merlot and announced that no one needed to know a thing about their aftermarket hours get-togethers had hit the nail on the head.

  Cynthia’s lashes began to close as Gareth continued to work his magic. He was now massaging her lower legs in a rhythm that had her sinking lower into the cushion. She eventually got rid of the pillow so that she could stretch out a little more.

  It seemed to her that she could sense the moment Gareth was going to speak. She’d never been attuned to a man the way she was with him, and that included many more than Kurt Langston. In hindsight, all Kurt had done was distract her with adventure that she hadn’t seen fit to provide for herself.

  Cynthia supposed she should be thankful to him for one lesson, because he’d taught her that she hadn’t needed a man to make her happy. She was proud of who she’d become, though she could admit to holding men to higher standards more often than they could meet.

  It was unfortunate that Gareth had come immediately after her valuable lesson, when the sting was still fresh.

  She’d always tended to act first and suffer the consequences later. It was in her genetic makeup to be out in front of any issue. She made decisions, in and out of her personal life, and stuck to them. Maybe it was time she give a little bit.

  “We could always table this discussion until later,” Cynthia managed to draw out around a moan he initiated by working on a knot in her right calf that had been bothering her all day.

  She lifted the lashes on her right eye to witness his reaction. He hadn’t even flinched at her confession. She could at least give him the benefit of the doubt about why he’d kept his relationship with Brad a secret.

  She owed him that much, didn’t she?

  To prove that she wasn’t just delaying the inevitable—which she’d asked for—she raised a knee so that her foot rested against the growing bulge in his pants.

  “Are you trying to distract me with sex, Cyn?”

  “Is it working yet?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Gareth gently removed Cynthia’s legs from his lap, careful not to spill either of their drinks. He would have certainly allowed her to continue to control the narrative had he not known of her reaction this morning. It was easy to see that the day’s events weighed heavily on her mind.

  She shouldn’t have to carry any more emotional baggage than was necessary, especially when he was the one who could ease her burdens.

  “You could tempt a saint, Cyn.” He meant every word of that statement, too. “And I’m about as far away from sainthood as I could possibly get.”

&n
bsp; Gareth managed to stand, though it was rather uncomfortable to move positions at the moment. He decided not to waste the drink in his hand. The smooth whiskey was probably the only thing that could take the edge off his current condition.

  “I didn’t know I was adopted until the age of six.” Gareth heard her shift on the couch, but he didn’t bother to turn around yet. Instead, he walked over to the large windowpane that overlooked the city. “The thing of it was, I don’t believe Mom or Dad kept that fact from me on purpose. They loved me as if I were their biological child. There was no distinction between me and my brothers and sisters.”

  Gareth waited for Cynthia to ask questions. He was used to telling this story, though it was usually to the children left behind in the orphanages. His story was vastly different from a dear friend who’d had the opposite experience. Together, they balanced one another in their sentiments about the children’s futures. Those left behind deserved the unvarnished truth.

  “Gareth.” The way Cynthia said his name told him that she wasn’t going to give him the usual reaction. It didn’t surprise him, really, though this was the exact conversation she’d wanted to have this morning. He met her gaze in the reflection of the windowpane. “You’re pretty damn close to sainthood, from where I’m standing.”

  “You weren’t saying that this morning,” Gareth replied wryly, lifting the rocks glass to his lips. He drained half the contents in one swig. “And the very public act of giving my family’s money back to the community doesn’t qualify, because there are other things I do in the shadowy interim that could have possibly blackened my soul.”

  Cynthia’s laughter rang out and rebounded off the periphery of the living room, though he couldn’t understand why she found his sentiment so damn funny. It was the plain truth, whether she wanted to recognize it for what it was or not.