"Is that right?" He shot her a glance, and she almost sighed with relief at the humor she saw in that quick meeting of the eyes. "You seem to be very well-read on the subject of sleep deprivation. I gather it's something you're interested in?"
She smiled. "Apparently."
The things that had been written about him were wrong. If he was really the cold, calculating man he'd been depicted as in all those articles, he wouldn't be so likable.
"Thank you for driving me home. It was very considerate."
He braked at the next stop sign and looked across the seat at her. "You're welcome." They sat there for several seconds, neither speaking, his expression looking thoughtful as he studied her. She'd never been good with long silences. They made her imagine things—crazy, dangerous, impossible things.
Needing to ease the tension pulsing between them, or maybe just through her, she said, "It's not very fair of you, though. You're racking up favors, and I'm afraid I'll end up owing you big time if you keep it up."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure I'll find a way to collect." His words, although she knew held no hidden meaning, sparked a whole new fantasy, one Abby would never allow herself to act out.
CHAPTER FOUR
"My offer stands. If Burns still insists it's too low, tell him I said it's been a pleasure doing business and extend my best wishes finding another buyer."
Gage hung up the phone and went out to the lobby. He hadn't been in the office an hour and already Brett had called about a harassment charge against one of their senior managers, Grace had called to inform him she was at the emergency room with a possible broken ankle, and the owner of the leasing company he'd hoped to finalize a deal with two weeks ago had decided to play hardball.
He flipped through Grace's card file until he found the temporary agency she'd recommended. Glancing toward the two empty desks on the other side of the lobby, he frowned. Where the hell was the rest of the administrative staff?
He needed coffee. There wasn't any. Grace always had it made before he got in. He didn't have time to be traipsing down to the lobby cafe to get a damn cup of coffee. The elevator bell rang and he spun around, his face taut.
"It's good of you two to finally show up." He leveled a cool gaze on Barbara and Carol, the young secretaries who stood rooted to a spot on the carpet just in front of the elevator doors. Both of whom, he noticed, had their coffee.
"Would one of you care to explain why you're strolling in at—" He checked his watch. "Eight fifteen?"
The women looked at each other, their identical expressions a study in nervous apprehension. They should be nervous. In his current mood he felt tempted to confirm one or two of the atrocities they believed him capable of.
Barbara bit her lip. "W-we don't start until eight th-thirty, sir."
Gage fingered the card in his hand. Damn. He knew that. If he hadn't spent such a sleepless night, waking in sweats and frustratingly aroused from lustful dreams of Abigail Carpenter, he probably would have remembered before making an ass of himself. He gave the women a sidelong glance. Carol looked on the verge of getting sick or bursting into tears, neither of which he cared to witness. Hell.
"Did you know lack of sleep can cause memory loss?" They stared at him as if they weren't sure they should respond and didn't want to chance saying the wrong thing if they did.
He put a hand in his pocket and sighed. "Grace is at the emergency room with a possible broken ankle." He crossed the lobby and handed the card he'd pulled to Barbara. "This is the employment agency she recommended. See if you can get a temp over here this morning."
Taking his wallet out of his back pocket, he removed a five. "I haven't had any coffee yet, and I could really use a cup right now." He looked at Carol. "Would you mind going back downstairs to get me one?"
She nodded and took the money, her eyes wide and uncertain. He felt like an ogre.
"Thank you." He gave a half smile, then turned and went into his office. Anything more and they probably would have thought they'd gotten off on the wrong floor.
Grace showed up two hours later sporting a wrapped ankle and walking with a crutch. "It's only a sprain," she explained when Gage told her she shouldn't have come in. "The crutch is just for sympathy."
"Barbara and Carol asked me if you were feeling all right," she said a short time later as she waited for him to proof a bid she'd just prepared. Gage glanced up at her and hiked a brow. "They said you smiled at them this morning."
He grinned sheepishly. "Tell them they must have imagined it. It's bad for the image."
"Can't have that," she said with a chuckle, "can we?"
Gage flipped to the second page and scanned the numbers. "Matt's going to be here in about twenty minutes. We'll probably be tied up for a couple of hours."
"You want to make it a working lunch?"
"You got it." He returned the bid. "This is fine; go ahead and send it out." When Grace left, he made a list of concerns he needed to discuss with Matt.
After meeting with his Chief of Security, he'd call Norwell about his decision. He'd intended to call yesterday but hadn't had five minutes to himself before Abby showed up.
He was anxious to see her again tonight. He liked her. He liked her humor. He liked her spirit. And he wanted her, wanted her in a way he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore.
He hadn't been with a woman since breaking things off with Shelly over six months ago. Not that anyone would know it from the gossip columns. He shook his head. It amazed him people actually believed all that shit. Hell, he'd have to be taking Viagra intravenously to satisfy all the women he'd supposedly slept with. No one had that kind of stamina, but the truth was so damn boring no one would want to read it.
Gage frowned. How much had Abby read about his personal life in her research, or rather his personal life as portrayed by the press? He'd stopped reading most of it years ago. He couldn't waste his time worrying about baseless rumors; they'd always be out there. The select few he counted as friends knew him well enough to know the truth, but Abby wouldn't, and if she chose to believe some sensationalized account of his lifestyle without giving him the benefit of the doubt, he refused to defend himself.
He couldn't believe he was considering a relationship with her. It surprised him he didn't feel more conflicted about getting involved with a business associate, given he'd never allowed it to happen before.
Of course Abby might reject his advances, a very real possibility that could prove disastrous. Not only would he feel like a fool, she could refuse to work with him, something he'd be unwilling to accept even if it made her uncomfortable. He recognized talent when he saw it, and he wanted that talent behind the campaign.
"Looks serious," Matt said from the doorway.
Gage rubbed his jaw. "Time will tell," he said, and with no intention of saying more, picked up the list he'd been working on before thoughts of Abby had distracted him.
For the next hour and a half he and Matt reviewed security details. They took a fifteen minute break when lunch arrived and had only been working a short time again when Brett called to give Gage an update.
"They've got a witness who's a desk clerk at the Lincoln hotel who saw Matheson and the woman there on several occasions," Brett informed him. "George swears the woman came on to him, and the only reason she was crying harassment now was because he tried to end it."
"You told me this morning he denied any involvement with her."
"He did. Now that they've got a witness he's changing his story. It doesn't look good, Gage. I think Matheson's lying, and the woman in question said two of her coworkers confided to her that George pressured them for sex at the risk of losing their jobs. When I asked him about it, he exploded and threatened to, and I quote, 'teach that sorry bitch a lesson she wouldn't forget'."
The muscle in Gage's jaw twitched. "Get rid of him," he said tightly. "Call O'Leary in H.R. and tell him I want him to do the termination immediately. Matt's here with me, but make sure two of his agents are pr
esent in case Matheson gets out of hand. I want him escorted off the premises and all access denied."
He glanced at Matt, who nodded. "Pearson and McElhinny," he said. "They know the drill and can both be trusted to keep things quiet until you decide how you want to handle an announcement."
"Matt wants Ellen Pearson and Steve McElhinny on it," Gage said. "I also want you to find out who the other women are and set up a meeting with legal. Make sure they understand they are not in danger of losing their jobs or of any other repercussion. We'll decide if we need to take any other action once we know more."
After hanging up with Brett, Gage took a minute to rope in his temper. "The way this day's going, I've got a feeling I'll be real glad when it ends."
Matt drummed his fingers against the file on the table in front of him. "Maybe you'd rather wait until tomorrow to hear about this guy from the press conference."
Gage pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are we looking at a mild annoyance or a ticking bomb?"
"At least a loaded gun. Unfortunately I don't have enough information yet to know for sure. With Riv One demanding so much time, I assigned the investigation to one of our newer agents. I called Tuesday to find out where the report was and discovered she hadn't even begun the investigation. I'm sorry."
Gage leaned back and crossed his arms. He didn't suffer excuses well, and with the exception of Matt and a very few others he wouldn't even be willing to listen to an explanation.
"It's my fault. She's got a lot on her plate, and I should have been clearer about priorities. She tried to put together a quick sketch yesterday and faxed it to me last night, but I probably won't get an in-depth report until the end of next week."
Gage hitched his head toward the manila folder. "Tell me what you've got."
Matt flipped open the file and took out the top page. "Richard Everett Carpenter Jr., son of Richard Everett Carpenter, U.S. Senator."
Gage closed his eyes and shook his head. "Goddamn great."
"It gets worse. He's a developer, not a reporter. Apparently he thought he was a shoo-in for a certain megamillion riverfront contract."
Ten minutes later Gage clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back. "So the guy gets pissed when he loses the bid and figures if he can discredit GFI the city might renege on their contract, and he gets another shot."
"That's what it looks like," Matt agreed. "He's well connected through his old man. I did manage to make a couple of contacts this morning, and the general consensus is he's a pretty vindictive bastard, although no one wanted me to quote them."
Gage rubbed his jaw, an itching suspicion taking root. "Vindictive and influential enough to pressure someone at the Attorney General's office to initiate a probe against GFI for fraud?"
"Son of a—" Matt crossed his arms. "If so, he's playing a dangerous game."
"Yes, he is." Gage narrowed his eyes. "And if he wants to play dirty then we need to know where he's vulnerable. Aside from the good senator, did you find out if he has any other family? Wife? Kids?"
"I'm not sure about kids, but we'll know that and any other matter of public record when we get the report next week. I do know he's married. Karen faxed me a couple of pictures she found on the Internet, and there's one of Carpenter and his wife." Matt sifted through the file until he found what he was looking for. "Here it is. They were cohosting some big charity event last year. The picture's not the best, but even so they make a pretty striking couple." He handed Gage the newspaper clipping. "The wife's name is Abigail."
~~~
Abby felt energized. She loved spring. She loved walking through town when the cherry blossoms carpeted the sidewalks. She loved being able to grab something from one of the street vendors, find a sunny park bench, and enjoy her lunch outside. She reveled in these first warm days of the season after a long, dreary Philadelphia winter.
Popping into a flower shop on the way back to the office, she bought a big bunch of bright yellow daffodils.
"Are those for me?" Madeline asked when Abby got off the elevator.
Abby separated the large bunch and gave Madeline half. "I'll share my flowers if you'll lend me one of your vases."
Madeline got two clear glass containers from the bottom of her credenza. "Help yourself." The phone rang and she set her flowers down to answer it.
"Thanks," Abby mouthed, as she walked around the desk.
She put the daffodils in the vase then went into the ladies' room to add some water. When she got back to her office, she put them on the corner of her desk where she'd be able to enjoy them all day. Her lawyer called a couple of minutes later to tell Abby her divorce had been finalized, and she would receive a copy of the decree by registered mail.
Between news of her divorce and getting the Riv One account, there was so much excitement bubbling inside her Abby couldn't concentrate on work. She had to release some of it before she burst. More than a little giddy, she dialed Rachael's office.
"It's over," she exclaimed when her friend got on the line. "My lawyer just called; the divorce is final."
Abby smiled and held the phone away from her ear as Rachael's loud whoop reverberated across the line. "We have to celebrate. Dinner and drinks on me tonight. How about Fergys? I should be able to get out of here by six."
"I've got to meet a client tonight," Abby said, laughing at Rachael's reaction, "but we'll definitely celebrate, maybe this weekend. Look, I've gotta go. I have to leave for a meeting soon. I just had to tell someone."
She leaned back and hugged herself. Gage had told her he'd take care of informing Norwell today. She glanced at her watch. It was almost two and she had to leave for a client meeting.
She took her purse from the bottom drawer and went out to the lobby. "I should be back from my meeting with Carlson around three thirty," she told Madeline before getting on the elevator.
Gage would probably call Norwell while she was out. Didn't things always happen that way? Well, everyone would know soon enough. And she wasn't even going to gloat when Billings found out. Well, she'd try not to anyway. Things were finally going her way and she was feeling benevolent. As far as days went, this one ranked pretty close to perfect.
"Six messages." Madeline waved the pink slips over her head without looking up from her computer screen when Abby returned to the office.
"Thanks." She snatched them out of the air as she passed the other woman's desk. Her meeting with Carlson had dragged on for over two hours because his marketing manager wanted to dissect every proposal Abby had made. She swore the guy felt threatened by her for some reason. She shook her head as she flipped through the messages.
Betty Mawbry wanted to know if they should run another full page ad in the Sunday Inquirer. No! Phil Baker—how about using purple and yellow for their logo? Egad! Your mother—you haven't come to dinner in almost two months. Abby rolled her eyes. Gage Faraday. Lewis Pinker. Gage called?
She locked her briefcase under her arm and pulled Gage's message out with her teeth so she could put it on top of the stack. No message. Glancing at the time notation she saw he'd called at three seventeen.
Dropping her purse and briefcase on top of the desk she picked up the phone and buzzed Madeline.
"Madeline, did Gage Faraday leave a message?"
"No, just his name."
"Do you know if he called Mr. Norwell with a decision on the account?"
"Not yet he hasn't. I asked if he wanted me to transfer him to Norwell in your absence. He said if he'd wanted Norwell he would have asked for him. Not very friendly, is he?"
If Gage had found time to make a phone call, why hadn't he called Norwell about his decision? Did he want to run something by her first? Maybe he wanted to give her a heads-up so she could be prepared.
"Listen, do me a favor. Don't say anything to anyone until after I return his call."
"My lips are sealed."
After closing her door, Abby called Gage's office and got his secretary.
"Grace, this is Abby C
arpenter. I'm returning Mr. Faraday's call. Is he in?"
"He's in a meeting, but he said if you called to let him know. Hold on please."
Wow, Abby thought, it must be important if he wanted Grace to interrupt him during a meeting.
Grace came back on the line. "If you'll hold for a minute, Mr. Faraday wants to take the call in his office."
"Okay." Abby wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned against the edge of her desk, waiting. She was a free woman. At last! Dick was out of her life, and she could finally move forward.
"This is Faraday." Abby jerked at the whip-like tone of his voice.
"Mr. Faraday, it's—"
"I know who it is, Miss Carpenter. I called you as a courtesy. One you probably don't deserve."
A prickling sensation ran down Abby's spine. What was he talking about? Why did he sound so angry?
"I'll be calling Norwell in the morning to tell him I want Harold Billings to manage the account."
Abby was stunned. He'd said he wanted her. What had happened to change his mind?
"But…why? I thought—"
"I don't have the time or inclination to explain things you should be able to figure out on your own. I have to go."
"Wait," Abby blurted, needing to understand. "If this is about last night, I assure you it's not something I make a habit of, in fact, I've never—"
He laughed, not a happy sound. "You know damn well my decision has nothing to do with last night. Your secret's out, lady. I know who you are. Consider yourself fortunate I don't intend to explain my decision to Norwell. I'm sure if I told him I wanted you fired, you'd be given your walking papers before the end of the day. And just so we understand each other, if you try to come after me, I'll see you in jail."
The line went dead. Abby stood with the phone pressed against her ear. A distant buzzing began to fill her head. He knew.
~~~
A Murderous Game Page 6