by Cat Schield
With so many things going her way, Zoe should’ve been floating, but she couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder at odd moments, expecting to see Everly lurking around every corner. That the other woman hadn’t been in contact brought Zoe no peace. Everly’s fanatic determination to get revenge on Ryan wasn’t going to just vanish because Zoe was no longer participating in the plot and it troubled her that she might now be a target of Everly’s vindictiveness.
Zoe glanced at the email that had popped into her inbox, noting the unfamiliar address before the subject line snagged her attention. She read the single word several times while her heart rate skyrocketed.
Busted.
What did that mean? Apprehension surged through her. The only way for her to know for sure was to open the email.
A video file waited below the message Watch this—E. What could Everly possibly be up to now? Bracing herself, Zoe clicked on the attachment and watched in horror as Jefferson Kirby entered a hotel room with his wife’s deputy campaign manager, Patty Joyce.
This was the exact sort of dirt that could take down a campaign. Worse, it could destroy two marriages and ruin the lives of both families. The pain that would be unleashed on innocents if this got out would last for years, maybe decades, to come.
She’d volunteered in the hope of finding something exactly this scandalous. That Everly had been the one to uncover the affair instead was unsurprising. The other woman’s interference was out of control.
At the end of the short video, Zoe placed her hands against her roiling stomach, contemplating the devastation if this got out. Susannah’s campaign might survive the blow, but what about the couple’s children? They didn’t deserve to be harmed by the vicious gossip the revelation would stir.
Zoe’s finger hovered over the delete button. She wouldn’t have wished such a difficult situation on her worst enemy, much less someone she admired. But although she longed to erase the email and forget she’d ever seen the video, that wouldn’t stop Everly from using it to hurt Susannah. All Everly had to do was to leak the recording to the media or to Lyle Abernathy. He’d make hay with it, gleefully twisting the knife deep into Susannah’s heart. He wouldn’t care that her husband’s affair had nothing to do with the issues or Susannah’s ability to represent the people of her district. Instead he would make sure no one could focus on the fact that Susannah was the better candidate.
A familiar rush of helplessness swept over Zoe followed closely by sharp regret. She never should’ve fallen in with Everly and London. The mad scheme they’d concocted had reached far beyond anything Zoe had imagined and the results hadn’t brought her the satisfaction or the peace of mind she’d anticipated. Quite the opposite. Relentless waves of guilt and remorse had torn at her, disturbing her sleep and ruining her appetite. She grappled with how to disengage herself from the revenge bargain and rid herself of Everly. Today’s email demonstrated how impossible that would be.
Fifteen minutes later Zoe exited the coffee shop with the lunch order and retraced her steps to the store. With her thoughts racing, she didn’t register the tall man approaching her until he spoke.
“Zoe Alston?”
Her attention snapped back to her surroundings and she sized up the bald man in his ill-fitting suit. Was this another of Everly’s tricks or the abusive spouse of one of her artisans?
“Can I help you?”
“This is for you.” He extended an envelope.
Zoe took it automatically and the man walked away without another word. Besieged by dread, she entered the store and set the lunches on the counter.
“Bianca brought these by a little while ago. Aren’t they incredible?” Jessica indicated a stack of watercolor paintings she was recording in the computer. Then, she caught sight of Zoe’s face. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know. A man just handed me this envelope.” Zoe held it up, noting the lack of identifying marks. “This just feels wrong.”
“You won’t know until you open it,” Jessica said, displaying the pragmatic nature that had prompted Zoe to hire her.
With a nod, Zoe tore open the flap and pulled out a letter. Anxiety shifted to sorrow as she scanned the lawyer’s name before skimming to the meat of the message.
“Looks like the building has been sold and we have thirty days to vacate.” Zoe was surprised she managed to maintain a calm tone when everything inside her howled in protest.
“That’s terrible. Who would do something like that?”
Zoe reread the letter, paying closer attention to the details. This time the new owner’s name jumped out at her. TA Charleston Holdings, LLC. “TA” as in Tristan Anthony? Zoe reached into her purse for the financial documents belonging to Tristan’s shell companies. She’d spent several hours studying the legal paperwork in an effort to make sense of what he’d been up to. She pulled out the sheet containing her notes. There, halfway down the list of names was the one the letter referenced.
Tristan had bought the building containing her store with the sole purpose of kicking her out.
The floor shifted beneath Zoe’s feet as the implication struck her and she braced her hand on the counter to steady herself. “Damn it.”
She’d foolishly thought there was nothing left for him to take away. Her money was gone. As was her position in the community. Now she was going to lose her store.
“Zoe? Are you okay?”
“It’s my ex.” She brandished the letter. “He’s the one behind this.”
Jessica knew all about Zoe’s nasty divorce and came around the counter to give Zoe a hug. “We’ll get through this,” she whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”
Although Zoe nodded, in her mind she had already started to pack up her inventory. She didn’t have the money or the strength to start over a second time.
“I need to clear my head,” Zoe said, offering up a wan smile. “Can you and Eva handle things for a little while?”
“We’ve got this,” Jessica said. “Don’t worry about anything.”
Unsure where she was going, Zoe headed out the back and got into her car. Her initial instinct had been to call Ryan and spill the news, but then she remembered the video she’d received while at the coffee shop and knew she couldn’t dump her problems on him with the threat of the video hanging out there.
No, this was something she had to handle herself. When she reached Crosby Automotive, she parked in an empty visitor spot before marching into the lobby. Pretending to be deaf and blind to the receptionist’s greeting, Zoe barreled through the lobby and headed down a series of familiar hallways.
Tristan had a large corner office in the back of the building with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a landscaped stretch of grass and trees. As she neared his assistant’s desk, she noticed his door was closed. Usually that meant he was in a meeting. For an instant her rash determination faded. What was she doing? Anything she said or did in the next few minutes was guaranteed to blow back in her face. Tristan was a master at deflection. No matter how badly he behaved, in the end he was never at fault.
“You can’t go in there,” Ginny Anderson cried as Zoe sailed past and grabbed the doorknob to Tristan’s office. “He’s in a meeting.”
Zoe ignored her and opened the door. Tristan was on the phone. His eyes widened when she stepped in and shut the door behind her.
“Someone just came in,” he said to whoever was on the other end of the call. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.” Hanging up, he got to his feet and came around the desk. “What the hell do you think you’re doing bursting in on me like that?”
Once his anger would’ve cowed her, but she was no longer the woman he’d dominated. She stared her ex-husband down as he approached, refusing to back down as he came to tower over her.
“You bought my building so you can evict me?” She brandished the letter. “That’s low even for you.�
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His eyes narrowed. “How’d you know it was me?”
She immediately saw her mistake. Without the documents she’d received about his shell companies she’d have no idea he was behind her eviction. Zoe hiked her purse higher on her shoulder, the weight of Tristan’s secrets a burden she should’ve left in the car.
“Who else could it be?” she retorted, bluffing like her life depended on it. “You’ve done your best to ruin me. This is just another in a long list of dirty tricks.”
“You seem pretty certain it was me,” he replied smoothly. “You must have some sort of proof.”
His absolute confidence suggested he knew exactly what had been sent to her.
Inwardly cursing that she hadn’t thought her accusation through, she said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know what you’ve been up to.” He leaned into her space, his manner growing even more menacing.
“I haven’t been up to anything.” Zoe took a firmer grip on her purse.
“You’re a liar.” Without warning, Tristan whipped his hand forward, latched onto her handbag and yanked it off her shoulder. “Do you have it with you?”
“Stop that!” Zoe snagged the strap and held on. “Let go! What are you doing?”
With a sharp sideways jerk, Tristan stripped the purse from her hands. Pulled off-balance, she stumbled and nearly fell. By the time she straightened, Tristan had freed the envelope. He threw the bag at her feet. Fighting helpless tears, Zoe scooped up her purse and held it against her chest.
“You have no right,” she cried, wondering why she thought this encounter would go in her favor when none had before.
“I have every right.” He scanned the contents of the envelope, mouth tightening at what he found. “You were stupid to bring this with you today.” While Zoe watched in helpless dismay, Tristan tossed the envelope onto his desk and straightened his tie. “But then you’ve never been all that smart.”
Zoe barely registered the insult. Her throat tightened as she fought overwhelming despair. Because of her rashness, she’d lost the only leverage she’d had against him.
“That boyfriend of yours has no idea about you,” Tristan continued, more relaxed now that he’d regained the upper hand. “Or what you’ve been up to.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, cursing the impulse to engage him.
Her stomach clenched in fear as a sly smile appeared on his face, making it clear he knew every sordid detail of what she’d been doing.
“You know,” he said. “The little revenge pact you made where you receive dirt on me in exchange for you getting dirt on Dailey’s sister. I had no idea you had it in you.”
“How...?”
Only three people knew about that. London would never risk her reputation by telling anyone. And unless she’d started talking in her sleep, Zoe hadn’t spilled the beans.
“Your friend Everly told me,” Tristan said, confirming Zoe’s conclusion.
“Who?” she asked breathlessly, hearing the lie.
“Everly Briggs.” Tristan smirked. “I guess she’s not as good a friend as you thought.”
“She’s not my friend. She’s barely even an acquaintance.” At least that much was true.
“Don’t bother denying it,” he countered. “She told me you had someone steal information from my computer.”
Zoe was sure Everly hadn’t sent the documents, so how had she known? “Sounds like a pretty fantastic story.”
“It’s not a story. It’s the truth.”
“Like when you accused me of having an affair?” Zoe congratulated herself on her sarcasm. “Those lies didn’t work then and they won’t work now.”
“Really?” He sneered. “How long before Dailey dumps you after he finds out you joined his sister’s campaign to gather dirt on her?”
“Stay away from Ryan.”
“Or what?”
Yes, or what? Tristan had reclaimed the proof of his illegal activities.
“It’s your word against mine,” she blustered. “And he already knows better than to trust you.”
“Maybe, but he’s been burned before,” Tristan said, spilling just how thoroughly Everly had betrayed their pact. “I’m going to guess that he’s not going to make the same mistake twice. And that means all I have to do is make one little phone call and you two are done.”
With grief rising to nearly intolerable levels, Zoe pivoted on her heel and walked out of Tristan’s office. Although she’d closed her eyes to the inevitable, she’d known her relationship with Ryan would eventually end in heartbreak.
But she would be damned if either Everly or Tristan dealt the killing blow. If she and Ryan were over, Zoe would be the one to shatter the connection.
Suspecting that Tristan would hold off calling Ryan to torment her as long as possible, Zoe pulled out her phone and dialed Ryan’s number.
“Something has come up,” she said after he picked up. “We need to talk...”
* * *
After Zoe’s dire “we need to talk” declaration and her unwillingness to get into anything more over the phone, Ryan spent several minutes wondering if he was facing the abrupt end of their relationship and disturbed at the idea of losing her. Luckily, the rest of his day was taken up by a series of meetings that left him too busy to dwell on what she had on her mind.
Now, however, as he stood in his kitchen, pondering what to do for dinner, Ryan considered how fast he’d gotten used to having Zoe around all the time. They ate together most nights, either at his house or at one of downtown Charleston’s numerous restaurants. Those dinners often segued into passionate lovemaking and he’d lost count how many times she’d spent the night. Waking up with her in the morning had become his favorite way to start his days.
When a knock sounded on his back door, his heart gave a joyful leap. Many days had passed since he’d given up claiming that he wasn’t emotionally engaged. At first he’d told himself such reactions were a predictable chemical response to someone he lusted after. After all, he’d enjoyed the best sex of his life with her.
But it wasn’t only physical for him. He’d made an effort to get to know her. Drawn out her fears. Learned about her dreams for the future. Discovered they shared a passion for helping people and a flaw that kept them from spotting trouble before it was too late. And he’d shared parts of himself with her that only his twin had seen.
He went to answer the door and his mood crashed at the somber expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she strode past him.
“Everything’s messed up,” she replied, dumping her purse on the kitchen counter and heading straight to the cabinet in the living room where he kept his liquor. Setting her cell phone down, she indicated the bottles. “Do you mind?”
“Help yourself.”
While she poured a healthy shot of vodka into a crystal tumbler, Ryan surveyed her appearance, noting her paleness and smudged eye makeup. She looked as if she’d been crying. What had happened to upset her between their early morning romp and now?
“Feel like talking about it?” he prompted.
“That’s why I came by. I need to tell you some things.” She finished her drink and poured a second shot. This time, instead of drinking, she rolled the glass between her palms and watched the liquid swirl. “Things you’re not gonna be happy to hear.”
Her ominous words rousted the doubts he’d put to rest after his encounter with her ex-husband at Susannah’s fund-raiser.
“Okay.”
But before that happened, he needed to connect with her. Crossing to where she stood, Ryan plucked the glass from her hands. Before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. She immediately melted into his embrace. All the tension fled her muscles as she looped her arms around his neck and pressed
her body into his. The kiss grew ravenous as frantic, impassioned noises tore from her throat.
Ryan sent his fingertips diving beneath the hem of her sweater dress, eager for the silky warmth of her skin and the tantalizing heat of her arousal. She groaned and sucked his lower lip into her mouth, setting her teeth against the tender flesh as he slid his finger through the wetness between her thighs.
“Oh, Ryan.” She gasped when he freed her mouth so he could trail his tongue down her neck and nip at the sensitive cord in her throat.
“I need to taste you,” he growled, stripping her thong down her thighs.
Together they sank to the floor. She lay back and Ryan pushed her dress up. Setting his hands on her knees, he pushed them apart, opening her to him.
The noises she made as he drew his tongue along the most sensitive part of her fanned his lust to white-hot brilliance. He ignored the tight ache below his belt and focused on driving her pleasure higher. By now he knew both a fast and slow way to make her crazy, but she’d learned a thing or two about him, as well.
“I want to come with you inside me,” she panted, tugging on his hair as her climax drew close. “Please, Ryan.”
He had no reason to deny her request and swiftly stripped out of his clothes. She did the same, yanking the Aztec-patterned dress over her head and shimmying out of the tank she wore beneath it. He took a second to admire her lithe, toned body as she set her hand to the zipper of her favorite boots.
With a slow smile, Ryan shook his head. “Leave them on.”
This command gifted him with her first smile of the night. She held out her arms and he moved between her thighs. Her gaze locked on his as he slid inside her.
“I love you,” she murmured, so quietly that he thought he’d misheard.
His heart gave his ribs a painful kick. An instant later she squeezed her eyes shut and began rocking her hips in the way she knew he adored. Ryan began to move in response and the raw, frenzied lovemaking that followed left him reeling. They climaxed together, Ryan making sure Zoe came hard before surrendering to his own pleasure.