“Like that’s ever going to happen,” Grace muttered good-naturedly, picking up her wineglass from the side table and taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. “Smith’s going to fire me for sure if you decide to steal any more of our employees.”
“I wouldn’t fire you, because then you’d go work for him,” Smith shot back, sitting back on the loveseat with two slices of pizza. “That would ultimately be counterproductive. I can’t have that happen on my watch. That reminds me, we need to sit down and talk about your current bonus structure.”
Laughter floated around the group as these two competitive men were now in direct competition over a pizza pie shared among friends. In around eight to nine months, Smith would be taking on the majority of Manon Investments’ clients under a new hedge fund operated by Gallo Capital Management. He took Vern’s leaving personally, but the man needed a clean slate after everything that had happened in the past couple of months.
“Cynthia, I know it doesn’t seem like it now,” Laurel said, turning the discussion back to the topic at hand, “but this is good news. That letter had nothing to do about the relationship between you and Kurt Langston. Smith was able to step into the interview without anyone the wiser. He explained the changes that were coming down the pike in regard to the new fund, as well as touching on the subject of bringing in fresh blood. In the end, it all worked out for the best.”
“It’s going to be a shitstorm when the SEC comes through the doors after what Phil and Kurt cooked up,” Smith said with disgust, though it didn’t appear as if he’d lost his appetite over the coming storm. “But it’s better to do this now while the firm is still Manon Investments. It’s an easier sell to the media, and we’ve already come clean with all the clients. Those who will transition over have expressed their belief in the new leadership plan and are optimistic toward future gains.”
One of the reasons they all hadn’t been able to compare notes on the day was the fact that she and Smith had spent the majority of the afternoon calling each and every client regarding Phil Colbert’s illegal actions and his recent dismissal.
She hadn’t had any time to process the fact that Kurt was in a car accident and currently lying in a hospital bed in the ICU desperately hanging on for his life.
It wasn’t that the tragedy involved her in any way, but something didn’t sit right with her about the accident. She didn’t want to admit it, but the thought had crossed her mind that Phil might have had something to do with the accident and very possibly Brad’s death, as well. Otherwise, it was one hell of a coincidence, wasn’t it?
And that thought led her to another issue she hadn’t tackled yet.
“I can’t believe you had the balls to have a background check done on every person I work with,” Cynthia said, lowering her voice as the others carried on the conversation about the upcoming SEC investigation into Phil’s wrongdoing. “I could have told you what you needed to know if you needed that reassurance.”
Well, not everything there was to know. No one had known that Phil was using an offshore account under his wife’s maiden name to dabble in the market outside of her oversight as compliance manager, and all because he didn’t want to have to comply with SEC regulations that the firm was required to follow. The nail into Phil Colbert’s coffin had been admitting to manipulating the stock, though he swore on his life that he had nothing to do with Brad’s murder.
Cynthia leaned forward so that Gareth could fill a couple of plates for them. He handed off a few breadsticks to her before taking two slices of pizza for himself.
“You don’t seem to have a problem with the fact that there are two agents sitting outside in a vehicle in order to keep an eye on Grace,” Gareth said wryly, removing the glass of wine from her hand so that he could set it down on the coffee table. “A man was murdered in your workplace and a friend of yours was subsequently framed for homicide. The list goes on, but I can’t just sit back and do nothing. Besides, nothing stood out in those files I was sent today. Honestly, Rye’s decision to hire additional security isn’t such a bad idea. We just don’t know what is coming around the next corner.”
“I know you don’t want to talk about Kurt Langston, but has there been any news on what happened with the car accident?” Rye asked, having already finished off one of his slices. He crossed his ankle over his knee, settling back in the chair to digest both the pizza and the conversation. “I can’t be the only one who finds it awfully coincidental that another individual involved in this case almost lost his life today, not to mention that his driver was killed.”
“The same thought crossed my mind,” Cynthia said, not meaning to come off distracted. She was busy trying to figure out what time Phil came into the office today, but she hadn’t been in early herself to know that information. Could he have tampered with Kurt’s vehicle? The thought itself seemed ludicrous. “You don’t think it’s too farfetched to believe that Phil would go to that extreme? I mean, think about the specifics—locating the car service Kurt uses, finding out where they would be at any given time, and then actually getting away with tampering without anyone being the wiser. I just don’t see it. Maybe it was an accident.”
“Other things fit, though,” Laurel pointed out, sharing a look with Smith. The two of them had both been personally involved in this investigation, so they had stake in how this ended. “Who else knows how to take down a security system? The regular Joe Schmoe doesn’t, but someone with Phil’s kind of expert knowledge? And to top it off, he had access to the office building after hours.”
“We all agree the person who killed Brad most likely works at Manon Investments, but we’re leaving out the other people in the building.” Grace took another bite of her pizza before wiping her fingers on the napkin in her lap. “There are a lot of offices with a lot of employees. It’s possible that Brad upset some connected guys he shouldn’t have been borrowing money from, and just maybe his death had nothing to do with Kurt Langston, Phil Colbert, or the firm.”
Everyone began to put in their two cents in on if Phil had anything to do with Brad’s murder. They debated on whether or not the man was able to kill someone in cold blood, and then took the conversation in another direction that included the possibility that maybe Kurt Langston hired some wise guy to do the job.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Cynthia said to Gareth, keeping this particular conversation between the two of them. “There was no need for Kurt to kill Brad. None at all.”
“I agree, but it does seem strangely coincidental that all of this came out now.”
“Meredith?” Cynthia tossed the name out there, because the woman always seemed to be involved in some way. “She was the one to bring the letter to everyone’s attention. Brad had a home office, so it’s not surprising that he would have kept some of his more personal files there.”
“Meredith was also having an affair with Steve,” Gareth pointed out, polishing off his pizza while giving a sideways glance to the paper plate still in her hand. “One breadstick? Really?”
Cynthia took another bite, not having touched her glass of wine since the food arrived. Gareth was right. She shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.
“You realize that this brings some items on the agenda closed in relation to Langston.” Another round of laughter went around the room at something Rye said, but neither Cynthia or Gareth joined in on that side of the conversation. “Think about it. The police were able to question Langston before his accident, Phil Colbert was forced to come clean about his illegal actions and subsequently fired, and the firm is basically now in Smith’s hands.”
Cynthia hadn’t thought of it like that, but Gareth had a point. Yes, some dirty plays had taken place, but the decks had been cleaned. Tomorrow dawned a new day, and so far it appeared relatively normal.
Her appetite began to come back, and she even tossed Gareth a smile.
“You’re right.” Cynthia then began to consider the upside to today’s events. “Don’t get me wrong, I do
feel bad about the accident involving Kurt and his poor driver. No matter what my feelings are about the situation, no one should suffer through something like that. But Smith was able to control the narrative, I didn’t have to publicly humiliate myself in front of the financial industry, and the police most likely have more information that could help them solve Brad’s murder.”
“And that means tomorrow will be like any other day. Well, the days before this whole thing blew up.”
Gareth smiled at seeing Cynthia regaining her ability to eat. She couldn’t help but return his silly grin, because this was the first time since Brad’s murder that she experienced a sense of normalcy.
Her sordid past was out in the open, his past had been laid bare, and they were still standing…together. Yes, Brad’s killer was still in the wind, but everyone she cared for seemed to be out of that individual’s crosshairs and out from under police suspicion.
Excitement for what the future held for them blossomed, and she impulsively leaned into him and pressed her lips against his. The worst of times were behind them, and their future was trimmed with gold.
“I know this is probably the worst place to do this, but I need you to know that I love you, Gareth Nicollet,” Cynthia whispered, pulling away just far enough to observe his reaction. She smiled even more when those gold flecks shimmered in his eyes. “And for the record? I’ve never said those three words to another man…ever.”
“Think we can leave this little get-together a bit early?” Gareth’s gaze held a promise that she might be a bit tired come morning. “I’d like to continue this conversation back at the hotel.”
“About that…” Cynthia allowed her voice to trail off as she realized she never had a chance to tell him that she’d checked him out of the hotel this morning. The key she’d made for him was still in the side pocket of her purse. “Let’s go to my place tonight. There’s something I want to—”
Another round of laughter went around the room, preventing Cynthia from revealing anything else too soon. She slowly lowered her plate. It wasn’t hard to miss the curious stare Gareth was leveling her, but time was now on their side.
“…looked beautiful,” Smith said as the group had clearly veered away from the subject of murder and mayhem. He only had eyes for Laurel at the moment. “The charity dinner was a huge success.”
“And an added bonus was the fact that I made it through dinner without spilling anything on the white linen tablecloths.” Laurel wiped her lips with her napkin before setting it on top of her empty paper plate. She scrunched one side of her mouth to the side before adding more thoughts on the evening she’d spent weeks getting ready for. “Detective Nielsen was there, but he wasn’t very forthcoming on the investigation. Of course, that was all before Kurt Langston showed up at Cynthia’s apartment.”
“It wasn’t the time to talk business, either.” Smith took her plate and piled it on top of his, not missing the sideways glare Laurel aimed in his direction. “I’m just saying that—”
“It wasn’t like I bombarded him with questions. As a matter of fact, someone else brought it up while we were all mingling, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity for me to put my two cents into the conversation.” Laurel shot a knowing smile to both Cynthia and Grace. “We didn’t get where we are today by sitting on the sidelines.”
“Here, here,” Cynthia said, not bothering to hide her satisfaction behind the rim of her wineglass. Laurel was right, and there were times that they all needed to step up to the plate. They’d all done so professionally, but it was time she solidified her personal life. She drained the rest of her wine, noting that it was a good thing she polished off those breadsticks. “Listen, everyone. It’s been a hell of a day. Gareth and I are going to call it a night.”
It didn’t take long for everyone to agree about the kind of day they’d all been through, and her words had been the catalyst to bring this evening to a close. Cynthia always thought of herself as well composed, but she couldn’t tamp down her excitement about what was still to come.
“We’re going to need to stop by the hotel so that I can grab a few items.” They were roughly a few feet from her vehicle, and the snow flurries were still sporadic. That didn’t mean the bitter wind hadn’t picked up, almost as if Mother Nature was warning them about the coming winter season. Cynthia tried not to take that as a sign for the rest of the evening, but there was absolutely no way she was going to convince Gareth to drive straight to her apartment without a good reason. “The temperature is dropping, though. Road are becoming somewhat slick. Maybe we should—”
“Gareth, I checked you out of the hotel this morning,” Cynthia said abruptly, turning up the collar on her dress coat before bringing him to a stop right before he reached for the handle on the passenger door. She needed to observe his reaction, because her mother had always said that mental pictures were worth more than any Polaroid. “We’ve been seeing each other for over eight months. I think it’s time for us to…”
It was rare that Cynthia misread a situation, but it was clear by the expression on his face that she’d overstepped her bounds. Technically, his bounds. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. She should have had another glass of wine to take the edge off, because the look of surprise that crossed his features caused her entire body to go numb.
Her reaction had nothing to do with the cold temperatures. She took a step back, doing her best to regain her composure. Her mother’s advice had backfired, and now she would forever remember this moment.
Unfortunately, it was impossible to rip those mental photographs into shreds.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Don’t.” Gareth hadn’t meant for Cynthia to take his temporary shock at hearing those words the wrong way, but it was clear she now assumed she’d taken things too fast. He stepped forward to close the distance she’d put between them. “Cyn, you—”
“It’s clear I misread the situation.” Cynthia tilted her chin, her blue eyes appearing colder than the wind chill. She was so quick to react. God, he loved her fire. “You can—”
Gareth kissed her, right there in the middle of the sidewalk underneath the streetlight with snow flurries falling around them. He didn’t care that the agents Rye had hired to keep an eye on Grace were more than likely getting a show. There was no use worrying about outward appearances if he couldn’t convince her that his reaction was anything but negative.
Her lips were warm. He planned on making them burn. It took her only seconds to respond. She tasted of the wine she’d been sipping on, and he wanted more.
He wanted all of her in this instance in time and forever more.
The kiss went on until neither one of them could breathe, and even then the condensation from their exhalations merged together as one.
“You caught me by surprise, Cyn. That’s all it was.” Gareth wrapped a hand around the back her of neck, wanting her close until she’d heard every word he had to say to her proposal. “I want nothing more than to spend my life with you. You’re my soulmate. I’ve spent every spare minute I’ve had these past eight months in this bitter cold city with only the idea of you to keep me warm, all because this is where you decided to live. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’d follow you all the way to Antarctica if need be.”
“But you—”
“Needed to make sure I heard you correctly,” Gareth quickly amended her, not willing to make the same mistake twice. “A lot has been thrown at you…at both of us…in this last month. Cyn, you are everything I’ve ever wanted, and I couldn’t possibly ask for anything more. Nothing on earth nor anyone on its face could take me from you now.”
Gareth kissed her once more before seeing her safely inside her vehicle. She had one of those self-starters that he’d activated before leaving Rye’s residence, so the inside was nice and warm. He quickly joined her, but neither one of them said another word until he’d pulled into her parking garage.
“You really checked me out of my hotel?” Gareth open
ed the driver’s side door, though he waited for her to respond.
Her smile said it all.
“Would it help to know that I gave you a quarter of my walk-in closet?”
“I bet that hurt more than you thought it would,” Gareth said with a laugh, wanting nothing more than to have them make it to her apartment before they began to lose particles of clothing. “Maybe we should consider something a bit larger than your small one bedroom apartment.”
“You read my mind,” Cynthia murmured, taking him by the tie and pulling him close. He had no choice but to pull the door shut, closing them inside the still warm vehicle. “Did you know that this seat goes all the way back?”
She’d removed her dress coat when they were halfway home, so she had no trouble climbing over the console and proving to him that the driver’s seat really did fold all the way down.
“Cyn, I’m well aware that we both like pushing the limits, but—”
“No one can see us in the corner here,” Cyn whispered, leaning over him until she’d wrapped her hands around the metal components of the headrest. “And I can’t wait until we reach that distant apartment. That’s too far, and I want you now. I need you, Gareth.”
Cynthia had pushed her pencil skirt up around her hips before she’d been able to straddle him. Honestly, he’d been hard ever since they’d kissed outside on the sidewalk. Not even the cold temperatures outside could ruin this moment.
“Then take what you want of me, Cyn.”
Cynthia released her hold on the headrest before pushing herself up so that she had free access to his belt. Her hair cascaded down her cheeks as she focused on the task at hand, giving him time to admire her beauty.
Eight months.
He needed an eternity with her.
“Marry me.”
Her laughter bubbled as her fingers fumbled. When he purposefully didn’t crack a smile, she stopped what she was doing and stared at him with those blue eyes so filled with shock—the same disbelief he’d experienced when she’d all but stated that she wanted him to live with her.
Opportunity (Office Roulette, Book Three) Page 9