“No.” The visceral response to being jerked out of Kristie Patten’s life surprises me. “I’ve been playing it cool letting her get used to me and making her feel at ease. As an employee working in her house, there’s a delicate line to tread here. It’s impossible to be alone with her except on the beach, and even then there’s the possibility of being observed or interrupted. She’s cautious. Two weeks have been allocated for the operation. If there’s any possibility of extending the chauffeur’s holiday by a week to give me three, we should do it. If I can’t lead her astray by then, she ain’t going.”
“Okay. Try to get her alone, out of the house. Lay on the charm. But don’t cross the line, Marco. The aim here is to expose someone likely to cheat. Not seduce the old man’s wife.”
Morning day four, and I’m getting a little tired of hanging around doing nothing, when there’s a rap on the door of my apartment.
I open the door to Stephen.
“They’ll need the car tomorrow night.” He doesn’t ask to come inside, doesn’t act friendly. Stephen’s suspicious of me—I guess it comes with his job description.
“Going out?” Yeah, obviously. But I have to make some attempt at conversation.
“A party.” Sheesh, would it kill him to be more forthcoming?
“Local?”
Stephen nods. “Old friends of Mr. Patten’s are having their annual cocktail party. The Kings live around four or five miles up the coast. It’s a big affair, very formal. You’ll need to be ready to take them by seven-thirty. I don’t expect it will be a late night, Mr. Patten likes to be home by ten.” He fixes me with a hard stare. “Check in with Mrs. Patten this morning, she needs you for something.”
Chapter Seven
Kristie
“What exactly do we know about Marco Vitale?” I’m lounging in Montgomery’s chestnut brown leather armchair in the library.
Stephen sits on a matching chair nearby.
“Does he check out?”
“I’ve run a rudimentary check, and he doesn’t raise any red flags. He’s Charles’ man.” Stephen’s eyes narrow. “You suspect him?” He frowns. “What are your concerns?”
“He’s flirtatious.”
“You find that surprising?” Stephen smiles. “Come on, Kristie, men must flirt with you all the time. I don’t think that’s enough to suspect him of anything.” Stephen is in his early forties. He’s been working for the family for a decade, since he was employed to beef up the security system at Casa Nostra. The wife of one of Montgomery’s work colleagues was kidnapped, and the police warned that other company executives might be at risk too.
With his background in special forces, and his easy, professional manner, Stephen was a perfect fit. And when paying the kidnapper’s ransom didn’t result in the safe return of the abducted woman and she was found dead soon thereafter, Montgomery made the temporary position permanent.
Stephen and my father Carl served together. Went into the same profession after leaving the army. The profession that I’m in—personal protection. They still get together every few months for beers and reminiscences. So when he was looking for a woman to covertly join the team protecting Montgomery, Stephen approached our company for the job. I’m no greenhorn; I was working my way up the ladder in a rival firm before my father asked me to join his firm. But until now my father’s been reticent to trust me alone with an assignment, despite my experience elsewhere. I need to prove myself.
Stephen links his hands behind his head. “Tell me more about these flirtations.”
“There was something off about it. Something calculated. He crossed the line by alluding to my sex life with Montgomery. I slapped him down, and he apologized, but I got the feeling he was testing me. I got a strange vibe from him. A hint of arrogance that seems at odds with his job as a chauffeur. I expected him to be more deferential.”
Stephen rubbed the side of his jaw, his eyes thoughtful.
“I know his type. Young, virile, Italian heritage, the guy has Alpha written all over him. He could be merely responding to the fact of your recent marriage in the way he presumes he should. Most novels of old man marrying young woman have a co-starring role for the chauffeur or the gardener, don’t they? Think Lady Chatterley’s Lover?”
“Maybe that’s all it is, but we need to be sure.” Neither of us are discounting the very real threat Marco may pose. I started my job as a nurse, but it soon became apparent that in that role I couldn’t protect Montgomery twenty-four/seven because he wouldn’t allow a nurse to be in his quarters—it offended his sense of machismo. So between me, Stephen and Montgomery, we came up with the marriage idea. I’ve been brought in to not only protect Montgomery during the hours when a bodyguard might be off duty, but also to provoke the faceless person threatening our client’s safety.
Last time, they tried to suffocate him. Next time—who knows? We need to know who to trust and who poses a threat.
“I’ll keep him out of the house for at least four hours today,” I said.
Stephen nods. “I’ll check Marco’s room and his computer. Is Mr. P. excited about the party?”
“He has mixed feelings, I think. He told me he’s looking forward to seeing his old friends; he’s never missed any of their parties and he doesn’t intend to now. But at the same time, they were friends of his wife—and I’m sure he feels strange about walking in there with a new, young wife on his arm.”
Stephen checks the inside pocket of his jacket, and pulls out a white envelope. “This is for you. You don’t need to worry about the spending limit.”
I open the envelope to find a platinum credit card with Kristie Patten written on the front. The first card I have with my new name. “I’m sure this isn’t necessary...”
“It is completely necessary.” He holds out the card until I take it. “You need clothes. Shoes. Accessories. You can’t play the part of his wife without them. Buy a few outfits. You’ll need them when you return to Casa Nostra, the family will expect to see you dressed appropriately.” He glances at my jeans and T-shirt. “Robert and Mrs. Patten had regular shopping expeditions followed by lunch at Elvira’s Seafood Shack. Bring Marco into the store with you—he can help carry the bags.”
“You’re kidding.” Trying on clothes with Marco checking me out? I don’t think so. “That hardly seems appropriate.”
“That’s the way the Pattens do things.” Stephen said, matter of factly. “A driver never sits outside waiting for their employer, it’s considered rude. Mr. Patten told me more than once that he’d do practically anything other than go clothes shopping, and was grateful to send Robert instead. The restaurant’s location is programed into the car’s navigation system. A delicious lunch courtesy of his employer at a top restaurant is considered a perk. Mr. P insisted I make a reservation. And besides, you need to keep Marco occupied long enough to give me plenty of time to check his room.”
Chapter Eight
Kristie
I place a quick call to the office before heading out the following morning.
“Forensics are a bust.” Dad sounds frustrated, but we knew the possibility of getting prints from Montgomery’s room after the suffocation attempt was a long shot. “We picked up a lot of trace and quite a few prints. None raised any flags.”
“Have you found anything new about the suspects?” Everyone living at Casa Nostra is a suspect—they all had opportunity and means, we’re trying to track down a motive. Which is difficult when most of them have something to gain from the old guy’s death.
“We’re working on it.” I can imagine Dad rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s new with you?”
“We’re attending the King’s party tomorrow night. I’m going out shopping in a couple of minutes with Marco. Stephen told me he checks out, but I heard something yesterday that didn’t seem to make sense. Montgomery told me his late wife and Robert used to go to lunch together after every shopping expedition. And that he went into the store with her. To help her buy dresses.
It sounds a bit weird.”
“It sounds more than weird. What are you thinking—an affair?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Certainly they seem to have had a closer than normal relationship. And Montgomery wasn’t at all surprised that his son had paid for a very expensive cruise for Robert’s recuperation. In fact, he said Robert deserved it. He was here when the attack happened. As a trusted employee he has free access to the entire house. He’s out of the country now, but I want to make sure he’s not discounted as a suspect.”
From the corner of my eye, I spot movement from the window. The slow crunch of tires on gravel. I pick up my jacket. “I have to go, Dad.”
“Okay, I’ll run a few more checks.”
Marco’s standing by the car holding the back door open as I exit the house. I flash him a smile, round the car, and climb in to the front passenger side.
He closes the door. Climbs in. Turns to me. “I thought it was customary for you to...” He jerks his head towards the back.
“Like the Queen?”
“Like your husband?” There’s a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
“When I’m in the car with Montgomery, I’ll sit in the back. But when there’s only the two of us, I prefer to sit up here in the front with you. The view is better.”
His gaze flickers down to my knees then up to my face. I’m pretty sure he’s holding back a flirtatious comment. There’s something off with Marco. He handles the heavy car expertly, but I just don’t believe he’s what he says he is.
“So, you work as a ‘stand in’ chauffeur? How does that even work?” I plaster on my sunniest smile and act like I’m really intrigued to hear his answer.
“I work for an agency; I specialise in short-term contracts.”
“Why?”
He takes his eyes off the road for a second to shoot me a glance. “Why? I guess I don’t like being tied down.”
“Commitment issues, huh? I can relate.” A split-second later, I remember I’m a happily married woman. “At least I could relate. I used to have commitment issues before I met my husband.”
He’s silent.
Fifteen minutes later he pulls up outside one of the priciest boutiques in the Hamptons. Montgomery was adamant that I need to look the part. If I really were his brand new bride, I’d be feeling pretty insecure at the thought of dining with his wife’s best friends. I’d be worried about how they’d see me. That they’d judge me.
The only thing I care about is doing my job.
My husband wants to confide in them, but it’s just too risky. No matter how discreet people may profess themselves to be, it’s too easy to just tell a friend, who just tells a friend, and so it goes, until everyone knows. The Kings know all Montgomery’s children, and I’m hoping one or both of them might let something slip, might inadvertently reveal a motive for one of his inner circle to want him dead.
“Would you like me to park and accompany you into the store, Kristie?”
I busy myself smoothing my jacket over my arm and picking up my purse rather than looking at him. There’s a romance movie montage running in my head. The one where the girl tries on outfit after outfit while a besuited hero lounges on a sofa watching the private fashion show. As. Fucking. If. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll call you when I’m done.” Marco’s cell number was added to my and Montgomery’s phone contacts list on the first day he started working for us.
“Okay.”
“I’ll probably be an hour or so. Have some coffee. We’ll be going to lunch together afterwards.”
Marco can’t hide his surprise. His eyebrows raise. But he doesn’t ask. Doesn’t respond. I’ve kept him on a short leash, and he isn’t risking offending me again, which is a bummer, because I could do with a bit of fun, a dash of teasing banter. Being Mrs. Patten isn’t half as much fun as just being me.
“McDonalds.” I keep my face straight as I deliver our lunch venue.
Marco grins. “Really.”
I grin back. “Wait and see.”
Marco reaches for the door handle.
“Don’t bother helping me out. I can manage.” I climb from the car. “See you later.”
The shop assistant’s gaze flicks from the car pulling away from the kerb to me walking into the store, and immediately, she’s on the move. Right to me. She smiles wide, apparently not put off by my casual clothing and cheap shoes. “Can I help you with anything?” She’s charming. I squish down the thought that she’s charming because I’ve just climbed out of a Rolls.
“I’m looking for a dress for a party. And shoes and a purse too, I guess.”
“Okay. I’m sure we can find you something perfect. What sort of a party are you going to? Formal? Cocktail party?”
I feel pretty stupid that I don’t even know what Montgomery is intending to wear to this party, or how many people are likely to be attending. He just told me I had to look good. My thoughts must have shown on my face, because she does an empathic lip squeeze.
“I’m not sure. It’s a local party tomorrow night.”
“The Kings?”
“You know about it?”
She leans in. “I’d have to be living under a rock not to know about the Kings’ annual soiree. Everyone who is anyone will be there, and a lot of the ladies have bought their outfits for it here over the past few weeks.” She’s so warm and friendly, I want to go to lunch with her rather than Marco. “It’s definitely formal. Most of the female guests are wearing full length, and the gentlemen will be wearing tuxedos.”
“I imagine that many of the guests are older.”
“Well, of course, Mr. and Mrs. King are older, but they invite everyone from the age of eighteen up. It ranks as one of the highlights of the season.” She casts an experienced eye over my body, and correctly guesses my size. “Let’s get you some champagne, and I’ll show you some options.”
Her name is Maggie, and by the time the hour is up, we’ve not only chosen a beautiful dress with matching shoes and a clutch for the party tomorrow, but also a couple of day dresses, jeans, a pair of tailored pants, some fancy underwear and two silk shirts. I will need more to complete my Mrs. Patten persona, but for now, I’m happy. And starving.
I call Marco, and pull out the platinum credit card I was presented with this morning.
Maggie and I have swapped first names, so when she gets a look at the card, her mouth opens in shock. “Patten? I didn’t realize you were a Patten, Kristie. We’ve dressed many of your family over the years. Where are you based?”
“New York.”
Before Maggie can begin running through all the Pattens I could possibly be married to, I confess: “My husband and are just married. I know his previous wife also shopped here—Sarah?”
“Sarah...” Maggie’s eyes widen as she puts two and two together.
“My husband is Montgomery Patten.”
“Oh.” She smiles, but it’s somewhat forced. The poor woman is finding it difficult to hide her shock. “Well, congratulations on your wedding!” She glances out of the window as a car pulls up outside.
Seconds later, Marco whisks me and all my new belongings out of there.
Once he has packed away the bags and boxes into the trunk, he opens the front door for me, rounds the car, and climbs behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“We have a reservation at a place called Elvira’s Seafood Shack. I hope they have more than just seafood.”
“If you have your heart set on hamburger we could cancel the reservation and check out the drive-thru?”
The thought of driving a Rolls Royce through a drive-thru makes me laugh. I almost consider it, just for the fun of seeing if the car can make it through the narrow lane to the service window, before I remember that I have to go to Elvira’s Seafood Shack. I have to discover if there was anything more to Sarah and Robert’s lunch dates.
“Maybe they serve hamburgers at the restaurant. My husband seemed keen I should go there. Apparently the car knows the way.” I wave at the navi
gation system wired into the dash.
Chapter Nine
Marco
Once again, Kristie Patten has me confused. From treating me like a pariah, she’s done a complete about-turn. When I delivered her to the boutique she was fun and flirty, and now she’s even more so, sashaying through the room following the waitress to a prime table overlooking the sea view.
As if we’re friends. Or lovers lunching together.
She doesn’t wait for me to pull out her chair, just sits and accepts a menu. “This is nice.” She checks out the view, then casts an appreciative gaze over the room.
“Can I bring you something to drink?” asks the hovering waitress.
“I’ll have a martini, please.” She gives the waitress a dazzling smile.
“Sparkling water. I’m driving.”
Then we’re alone.
“My husband’s first wife, Sarah, used to lunch here with the chauffeur after shopping expeditions.” She raises an eyebrow. “Does that seem strange to you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” It does, but I want to hear her suspicions. “Robert has worked for the family for a long time, I guess they were friends.”
“I guess.” She scans the menu, but I can tell she’s still thinking about Robert and Sarah’s relationship because there’s a small crease between her eyebrows.
She starts reading. “They do have burgers on the menu—and steak too.” She looks up to see me watching her. “See anything you like?” There’s a hint of flirtation in her gaze.
“It all looks so good.” I look from her eyes to her mouth and back again, sending an unspoken message.
She blushes. Once again, this woman confuses me.
“Do you think your husband is the sort of man who would be content being cuckolded?” I check out the menu, mentally make a selection and close it. “I don’t know him well enough to judge.”
The Gold Digger Gambit: A Honeytrap Inc. Romance Page 3