Another man moved in even closer, and his camera flash nearly blinded Monroe. Paparazzi. He hated these people. Occasionally after a night at a club with a new girl or a particularly big business deal, he’d have these guys following him around. But he never expected them to know about this place.
“I’m sorry about this,” Libby whispered. “They did this silly piece on us and our marriage, and ever since it came out, we’ve been trying to shake these guys.”
“So you aren’t here working on a deal with Monroe Redson? And who is that with you Monroe?” The man turned his camera to the side and snapped a couple more shots.
With the commotion, he’d missed it at first. Aria was trembling in his arms as she squeezed down tightly on his bicep. “Monroe I can’t; they can’t take pictures of me.”
“What?” Libby asked, her eyes going wide as she stepped between the cameras and Aria. “Why not.”
“I just can’t,” Aria stuttered, and Monroe hesitated, bouncing between wanting to pummel these camera guys or lift Aria up and carry her out of here.
“James,” Libby said, snapping her fingers. “No pictures. She says no pictures.”
James, with quick understanding, ushered the men away and began making demands of them.
“Let’s go,” Monroe said, steadying Aria and getting ready to lead her away. “I didn’t expect any cameras.”
Libby patted Aria’s shaking shoulder and leaned in close. “James will get the film and those photographs won’t go anywhere. I can promise you that.”
“They’re not easily deterred,” Monroe groaned, knowing when something seemed disproportionally important to a rich man, it made these bloodsuckers more demanding. If James wanted the photographs, it meant there was a story. Leaving Aria in Libby’s care, Monroe clenched his jaw and made his way over to where James had wrangled the men. Giving it a second he listened to James’s case.
“Because if you don’t I’ll make your life a living nightmare,” James boomed, but Monroe could already tell by the expression on their faces they weren’t planning on making this cheap or easy.
“Don’t bother,” Monroe said, putting a hand on James’s shoulder. “These sharks smell blood and their tiny pea brains can’t process logic. You know who we are?” Monroe asked, and the three men grinned and nodded.
“You should,” Monroe replied coolly. “It’s your job to know that. We have that in common. It’s obvious you know my specialty is finding things out. Exposing things. So when I look at your hand and see that tan line on your finger, I might assume while you’re traveling in paradise you don’t honor those wedding vows of yours.” The man in question quickly stuffed a hand in his pocket. “Or maybe you’re a stoner,” he said, gesturing at a second man. “And maybe when you get to the airport you find a large amount of drugs has miraculously been hidden in your bag. Good thing someone called in a tip to the authorities.”
The wiry man with the thick glasses jutted out his chin. “You’re threatening us. We have every right to be here.”
“I don’t care about your rights,” Monroe hissed out. “I don’t care about your wives. Or your life back home. When James says we’ll ruin you, he means in ways you can’t begin to imagine. Now let’s take care of this like civilized people.”
Two of the men groaned and hummed as they turned their cameras over to James who began deleting the pictures. “All the ones we want gone are gone,” he assured Monroe. “I also took one out that was not particularly flattering of me.”
“Hand it over,” Monroe demanded of the skinny weasel-faced man who was grinding his teeth together. Behind his thick glasses Monroe could tell his eyes were darting around nervously.
“Just give it to him, Tom. It’s not even that big of a deal,” one of the other men encouraged.
“Yes, Tom. Give me the camera,” Monroe ground out.
“I’ve been dealing with bullies like you my whole life,” Tom huffed. “I’m entitled to these pictures, the camera is my property, and I don’t care what kind of threats you make, I’m publishing these. So if your little tart over there is married or whatever she can take it up with her husband when these hit the papers.”
He held his camera up tauntingly and Monroe chuckled. “You’re calling me the bully. You have a woman who doesn’t want her picture all over the place, and you tell her too damn bad. You don’t know the circumstances or the reason, and you don’t care. You’re the asshole in this.”
Tom sneered and rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’ll be the rich asshole when I find out why it’s such a big deal, and I sell the pictures to the highest bidder.”
“You could,” Monroe said, with a casual shrug. “It might be hard to count your money after I smash all your fingers.”
“Threatening bodily harm, how predictable.” Tom backed up a step and obviously tried to look unafraid, but fear was written all over his face.
Monroe laughed. “You know what? You’re right; that is predictable. And life is not like that. You never know what might happen from minute to minute.” In one rapid swipe of his hand Monroe snatched the camera from the man and launched it into the waterfall. In a cosmic boom, it hit the rocks and broke into a dozen pieces before sinking into the pool below.
“You saw that,” Tom gasped, tapping the other photographers on their shoulders. “You saw what he just did. I’m going to make a police report and these two are going to be my witnesses.”
“You should have just deleted the photos,” one man said, tugging Tom away as he continued to rant.
“Have a nice night, guys,” Monroe called in a chipper tone as he waved sarcastically at them.
“No one told me you were a loose cannon,” James commented, giving Monroe a sideways glance.
“Only when I’m pushed,” Monroe admitted.
“Or when the woman you love is in trouble?” James asked, cocking a brow up at him with a knowing smirk. “Trust me I’ve been there. It makes you do crazy things.”
“Love?” Monroe scoffed. “It’s not like that.”
“Right,” James said, drawing out the word as though he was completely unconvinced. “I happened to walk by the window of the restaurant before we joined you. I know from experience you don’t look at a woman the way you were looking at Aria and call it anything except love.”
“Let’s stick to business,” Monroe said, straightening out his coat and brushing out the wrinkles. “We have a lot riding on this deal, and it’s dicey. Don’t get distracted.” It was easy to pretend it was an annoyance that James dragged his heels. In fact, Monroe was worried James may be right.
“Take it from a man who went down fighting,” James said, ignoring Monroe’s attempt to sidestep the issue. He slapped a hand on Monroe’s shoulder. “Everything you think is important falls away, and you wonder why the hell you waited so long to admit what was right in front of you.”
“You done?” Monroe asked flatly. “I’m not nearly drunk enough to stand here and share a moment.”
“Agreed,” James said, shaking his head like he was trying to bring himself out of a dream. “Let’s forget this ever happened.”
Chapter 20
“Did you take care of it?” Libby asked as she moved with Aria toward the hotel lobby.
“Yeah,” James assured them. “Monroe had some choice words for them that seemed to do the trick. Remind me never to go toe to toe with him.”
Libby looked appraisingly at them both. “And the camera I saw go flying into the waterfall and smashing to bits, do I want to know more about that?”
Monroe shook his head and gave a half smile. “Not unless you want to be a key witness for the prosecution.”
“I doubt anyone will be pressing charges.” James laughed. “They got the message loud and clear.”
“Are you good, kid?” Monroe asked Aria. He wanted to hold her in his arms, but Libby was playing mother hen and doing a damn good job of it. Anything he did now would feel like he was intruding.
“Why don’t you w
ant to be photographed?” Libby asked, rubbing Aria’s back comfortingly.
“Married?” James asked as he pulled another cigar from his pocket and lit it.
“No,” Aria shot back, sounding a little insulted. “I have a past. I don’t need it catching up with me right now.”
“Don’t we all,” James said, his words forming around the billows of smoke. “No judgment from us here. My skeletons were dragged out in the street for everyone to see. Even Libby wasn’t immune. She had this dirtbag ex-boyfriend she couldn’t get rid of. We all know Monroe’s stuff. I always do my research before meeting someone. I had to call in plenty of favors to get to the truth, but it was worth it.”
“Yeah,” Aria lied, and Monroe was again impressed by her poker face. As far as he knew Aria had no clue about his past. She’d never asked, and he didn’t volunteer any information. The other skill she was so apt at performing was changing the subject. “So how exactly did you get rid of that ex-boyfriend?”
Libby’s face transformed with an enormous grin. “I tricked him, manipulated him, and recorded him until he ruined his own life. Men like that don’t have self-control. If you push their buttons they forget the world is watching, and they walk right into the trap.”
“Smart,” Aria replied, punctuating it with a yawn.
“And I pummeled the guy,” James added, shooting a knowing look at Monroe who instantly understood the pleasure of destroying a person who hurt people you cared about.
Aria’s voice was still quiet and tired. “I’m sorry for all the drama. I didn’t mean for this evening to turn into such a nightmare.”
“It was exciting,” Libby assured her. “Most the meetings and dinners we have to attend are completely dull. I’m just glad you are feeling better.”
As they reached the elevators, ready to head in different directions, James extended his hand to Monroe. “This was an enlightening meeting. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Monroe answered hastily, as Libby eyed them, clearly about to issue a warning about discussing work. “Tomorrow.”
“It was nice to meet you both,” Aria said as Monroe ushered her on to the elevator and they waved their goodbyes.
Chapter 21
“I didn’t anticipate paparazzi,” Monroe apologized. He could still picture the terror on her face when the lights began to flash. The elevator ride was too quick for the apology she truly deserved. The weight of the future, or lack thereof, was starting to crush him. Aria deserved better than this place. She deserved a future. He could give it to her but wasn’t certain he could be part of it. That would be an important distinction.
“All I could think was my face would be plastered all over different magazines or whatever and someone would realize who I really am. I’m glad you were able to fix it. Now I need to crawl into bed and forget this insane day.”
“What was your read on the two of them? James and Libby West. What did you think?” Monroe asked as the elevator doors popped open, and they made their way back to his room.
“My weird little meter that I measure people by is now of interest to you? I thought it was nonsense and silly.” She looked up at him from under her long fluttering eyelashes, and all of James’s words came flooding back to him. Maybe this was love. Maybe he was screwed.
“Your people-reading voodoo skills might be nonsense. But if they aren’t, I’d be a fool not to at least hear you out.” They moved into the room as though they’d been doing it for months. Aria was easy to be comfortable around. It didn’t feel intrusive or strange to have her in his space. Some women never got the hint it was time for them to go. For Aria, he hoped she never had the inclination to leave.
“My voodoo tells me they’re loyal people. They’re a bit cloudy with love and that honeymoon phase Libby mentioned. They look at each other more than they look at what’s going on around them. I’d say if I had to find a negative, they’re distracted. That can sometimes be a red flag for bad judgement or shortsightedness. It’s a little funny that he thinks he’s the dominant one between them; she has the power.”
“Don’t you all,” Monroe laughed.
“I don’t have any power,” she replied coolly, and it cut at him.
“Aria, you can do more than just—” he began, but she cut him off quickly.
“My voodoo tells me they’re good people. In spite of their research of you, they still came. All that interesting past James was speaking of.” Aria slipped out of her dress and hung it thoughtfully in the closet, handling it with the utmost care.
“You caught that,” Monroe grunted as he kicked off his shoes and started on the buttons of his shirt. Watching Aria stand in her skimpy lacey underwear was driving him mad. But her day had been long, and her mind had been whirling. Even if he wanted to pounce on her, he’d show some restraint. For now. “It’s not as exciting as people make it out to be.”
“I guess I never thought to ask.” Aria shrugged as she took one of his soft cotton undershirts and slipped it over her head. “It’s not like I’m your girlfriend.”
Another calculated fishing expedition for the wise Aria. “Yeah, I did call you that at dinner. I figured it would be easier than explaining the crazy way we actually met.”
“Do I get to hear about this not-as-exciting-as-people-think past of yours?” She sank onto the bed with a deep sigh. She snapped an elastic off her wrist and spun her hair into a beautiful messy bun. “I heard tonight you’re quite the businessman. That’s not how I had you pegged.”
“I’m very unassuming.” Monroe snickered. “That’s how I ended up in the business I’m in. I was nineteen years old, working in a coffee shop. No college plans. No plans at all.”
“You worked in a coffee shop?” Aria burst out in a laugh. “I can’t picture you as a barista. Was there an apron?”
He raced toward the bed, and the look on her face showed she knew he was coming to get her. His tickling fingers started at her knees and had Aria trying to wiggle away. “There was no apron,” he snarled. When she begged for the tickling to stop, he finally obliged. “There was no apron. But it was in the city, the business district, and some very important people passed through there every day. Sometimes when I tell this story, I make it sound like I was always looking for a big opportunity. The truth is I was a punk kid who stumbled onto a conversation and did some eavesdropping.”
“I feel lucky to get the unfiltered version,” Aria teased as she curled up to his side and rested her head on his chest.
“I was bringing a couple of scones over to these two guys in fancy suits, and I heard one of them say something about a getting rid of a guy. I was always looking for a good time, so I made myself look busy bussing some tables next to them. In my mind, I thought maybe they were talking about killing someone. In my defense, my life was boring. I passed the time by saying very little and listening a lot.”
“Were they going to kill someone?” Aria asked, as she circled her finger on his bare chest.
“Not quite. They worked at some huge trading firm. I didn’t know much about that stuff at the time. I figured after a few minutes they were trying to topple the CEO. Closest thing I could compare it to was a mutiny. They were going to get the guy at the top who they deemed incompetent, like mentally.”
“How would they do that?” Aria asked, cooing as he took a few locks of her hair and spun them around his fingers.
“I don’t know really. But I could tell what they were doing wasn’t on the up and up. They never said the CEO was actually mentally incompetent. It was more like they felt they were entitled to more.”
“More?”
“More of what everyone in this business world wants. More money. More power. More titles. Most people I meet, whatever they have is never enough. These guys went on for almost an hour, laying their plans out, assuming the moron barista wouldn’t be smart enough to even comprehend their conversation. I got it all. Every single thing they said. I memorized the information.”
“What cou
ld you do with that kind of information?” Aria asked. “If I heard something like that today, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“I started simple.” Monroe shrugged, trying to minimize the enormous task he’d taken on that day. “I called the company. I tried to set up a meeting with the CEO. Looking back, it’s no surprise that went nowhere. It doesn’t work like that. So I had to get creative. The two guys came in a few more times, and I considered blackmailing them. I’d tell them I knew their plan, and if they didn’t pay me I’d expose them. But that wasn’t the right path either.”
“Why?”
“Because even if they paid me,” Monroe explained, his voice quiet and calculated as he chose his words. Lowering his defenses was like cranking open the drawbridge on a castle. One turn at a time, it lowered a bit more leaving him feeling exposed. “They’d just go on and do what they were planning. Who would that help?”
“You.” Aria laughed. “You’d get paid.”
“This was back in the day before I realized self-preservation was paramount to success. I had an idea that if I could get to the CEO and tell him what I knew he’d reward me. I’d kill two birds with one stone. I’d get paid, and he’d be protected. So I had to get creative. I researched and found out he played golf at the same place every Tuesday afternoon.”
“You played golf there and hoped to run into him?” Aria guessed, sounding excited that she’d gotten it figured out.
“I didn’t have a membership or an extra five hundred dollars lying around. Instead I got a job caddying. I knew about golf. I’d golfed some growing up, and I just faked the rest. They were shorthanded, and I got the gig.”
“I’d never have thought to do something like that,” Aria said, tipping her head back and looking at him with admiration. “Did it work?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t catch him out on the course, but back in the club house I saw him sitting alone drinking and smoking a cigar. He looked lonely. Distracted. I sat down next to him and blurted everything out. I had it planned much differently, but my adrenaline was pumping. I was just a kid. I panicked.”
Untamed Devotion Page 9