He's Back

by Aria Ford

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Drake

  Dawn light filtered onto my eyelids and I woke, feeling as if my whole body had been flattened by a steamroller, by bones ironed out and my muscles so relaxed they felt structureless, like melted chocolate.

  I smiled, feeling the warm presence beside me in the bed. I hoped not to wake her as I rolled over. I opened my eyes and looked at her sweet face on the pillow. She was fast asleep, gray bruising under her eyes showing me I'd kept her up too long. I felt a little bad about that, yet I would never have regretted it. Not for anything.

  We'd eventually ordered Thai and eaten in my living-room, a solution that was probably more satisfactory than mine. I watched her shoulder move with the rise and fall of her breath and felt mesmerized by the beauty of her form. The sunlight was soft on her hair and I reached out and touched her skin, unable to resist.

  She stirred and her lips parted as she drew in a breath, then closed again as she sank into sleep. I sighed. I knew I should probably wake her – it was a Friday morning and we should be at work – but I couldn't make myself.

  I padded to the shower and heard her stir in the bed as I slipped in through the door. I felt bad for waking her, but she'd likely be mad if I didn't – after all, she had to be at work on time too and she worked further away than I did.

  I turned on the shower and felt like singing as the hot steam sluiced over my skin, the water warm and draining the last of the tension from my muscles so that I felt as if I had no bones when I stepped from the shower, smelling like ginger and mint, and, with a towel wrapped round me loosely, went through to the bedroom.

  “Good morning.”

  She was awake, leaning on the pillows, dark-blond hair spread around her shoulders. I smiled at her and she smiled back warmly.

  “Slept well?” I asked as she sat up, flipping her long hair off her shoulders. In the shaft of sunlight her skin glowed like alabaster and I had a hard time not staring.

  “Incredibly,” she said with a bright grin.

  “I agree,” I said with a chuckle, toweling off my hair and reaching into my wardrobe for a fresh shirt. “You sleep incredibly.”

  She flipped out of bed and came across toward me quickly, giving me a playful jostle. “I hope that's not a comment on how heavily I sleep,” she teased. Her brown eyes looking into mine made my heart flip.

  “Of course not,” I said with a smile. “I only meant that you do that, like everything else, incredibly well.”

  She grinned at me. “The wages of flattery are...I dunno. Something good.”

  I laughed and I kissed her. “Not flattery. All truth.”

  She blushed and chuckled and I drew her into my arms.

  “I should go shower,” she protested as I held her against me and kissed her. “I'll need to go.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “I just want to pretend you don't.”

  She giggled and let me hug her and then went to the shower.

  Later, she dressed in the same things as yesterday and I could smell the ginger scent of shower-gel around her, strangely arousing.

  “You smell like green curry,” I murmured into her hair.

  “Thanks,” she muttered. “Maybe, anyway.”

  I laughed. “Not in a bad way,” I murmured back. “Just in a delicious, exciting way.”

  “I don't know about that,” she said with her head on one side. “People put green curry in wraps nowadays.”

  “Well,” I grinned, kissing her forehead and making little kisses down her neck, making her jolt, “I would say that was a sensible thing to do with you...put you in a wrap and eat you all up – you're delectable indeed.”

  She was laughing as I leaned against her and she protested weakly. “Drake! I'm late now.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  I stood back and let her go. She collected her bag in the sitting-room and I followed her in ruefully.

  “Coffee now?” I asked. “There's time.”

  She looked at the clock. It was just close to twenty past eight. She would probably make it to work just on time if we had a very quick coffee.

  “Okay,” she said. “I want to.”

  “Mm,” I nodded. “Me too.”

  I made a decent coffee and dug out some biscotti a friend brought to go with it. If we weren't going to have a proper breakfast, a few of those would have to keep us going until we could find something else.

  “Oh!” she smiled as I passed her one. “My favorite. Thanks.”

  “Don't mention it,” I grinned. She smiled and bit into one, making my loins ache. I sighed.

  “Ainsley,” I said, “you really are bad for me.”

  “Oh?” she frowned. She knew I was teasing – her eyes shone – but all the same, she pretended to look crossly at me. “Why d'you say that?”

  “Because,” I said, taking a small sip of my coffee and swallowing the roasted pleasantness, “if I watch you any length of time, I start wanting you.”

  She blushed. It was a lovely thing to see. I felt myself get hard and coughed, laughing.

  “You see? You're doing it again. It's torturing me, woman.”

  She laughed, her sweet giggle filling my home with warmth.

  She finished her coffee and cookie and stood, coming closer. I stood too and wrapped my arms around her, drawing her close to me.

  “I'll see you soon,” she said, kissing my chest. I looked down into her eyes as she looked up at me, feeling a sudden stab of melancholy as I considered her going now.

  “Please do.”

  She chuckled. “You'll want to have a restraining order drawn up,” she promised. She kissed me and I clenched my eyes shut, trying to ignore the intense urgency of wanting she provoked.

  “Never,” I promised as I ran a slow hand down her back, making her sigh.

  She grinned up at me. “I'll hold you to that.”

  “That's not a threat,” I protested.

  “Maybe it will be,” she countered as she slipped out of my arms and walked slowly to the door. I followed her.

  “I'll drive you to your office,” I said. I was shrugging on my blazer and reaching for my briefcase and wallet as I spoke.

  “I can get the bus, sweetie,” she said, her use of her old endearment making my soul glow.

  “It's okay, baby,” I said gently. “I'll drive you. I can tell my boss I'll be late.” I was already scrolling through my contacts as we went down the stairs.

  “Thanks,” she said, sliding into the seat and putting on her seat-belt as I got in and started the car. “It's a big help.”

  “It's nothing,” I protested. “The least I can do.”

  When we reached her workplace I felt strangely bereft as she slid out and left me sitting there, thinking about her.

  I drove to work in a haze of lovely thoughts, my whole body relaxed and glowing, my mind happy.

  “Good morning,” I sang out as I came into work. The secretary giggled as I walked past her desk.

  “You're happy.”

  “I am.”

  I practically floated up the hall to my office and then when I got there, I was surprised to see Brad Lancer, one of the accounting guys I knew, already at my office.

  “Brad! Hi!” I held out my hand to him, shaking my head regretfully. “Sorry. I was held up.”

  “No problem,” Brad said warmly. “Just a few things needing a check and signing. And...oh, yes. Mr. Waterman wanted to see you.”

  “He did?” I frowned. “What about?”

  “No idea,” Brad said, raising a shoulder in a shrug. “Probably about this audit coming up. No worries.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Thanks,” I added as he passed me the folder containing the documents that needed signing.

  “You probably won't be,” he said. “Thankful, that is. Not after you look.”

  I opened the folder and found something that looked like a novella. I looked at him crossly and he laughed.

  “See?” he said.

  “Yeah,” I
nodded. “I do.”

  “Have fun,” he called breezily as he left my workplace. “No hurry – we only need it in a week.”

  “It'll take that long,” I shouted back at him, playful. He chuckled as he walked off.

  I sighed and opened the folder again, pulling out the sheaf of papers, spiral-bound down one side. As it went, it wasn't actually that bad – just some kind of tax agreement for various transactions that the business did.

  The bit that worried me more was the fact that Mr. Waterman wanted to see me.

  I set the booklet aside and headed off to his office with a thumping heart.

  “Hey, Laine,” I greeted his secretary, a woman around my age with straight blonde hair and a long, aloof face, impeccably made-up.

  “Mr. Leblanc,” she said, giving me a thin smile with those pouting red lips. “Mr. Waterman's busy now...do you need to see him for something?”

  “Uh, he was looking for me, Brad said?”

  “Oh. Wait a moment, please. I think he'll be through in a few minutes. You can ask him then.”

  “Sure thing,” I said, lowering myself into one of the elaborate leatherette seats. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest and there was no way I was going to manage concentrating on Business Today, even though I picked up a copy of the newspaper-rack and flipped through the bright white pages.

  “Now could be the time to invest,” I read out a heading. I perused the article, wondering why none of the words hung together or made much sense. I sighed. It was nerves. He could be calling me to tell me he'd found out about what I was doing. It could be anything.

  I drew in a deep breath, held it and let it out, slowly. I wasn't going to let myself be nervous. My mind drifted to thoughts of Ainsley. I recalled her soft breasts in the moonlight...

  “Mr. Leblanc?” a feminine voice said.

  “Oh! Uh...” I jumped up as Mr. Waterman came out of his office, hand on the arm of an elegantly-dressed man. “Mr. Waterman!” I said nervously.

  “So, thanks, Greg,” he was saying to the man, a glossed-haired Asian man in a suit so crisp it was in danger of lowering the room-temperature. “I'll get that signed and checked out later. Pleasure doing business with you.”

  “A pleasure, Henry.”

  They shook and then Henry Waterman turned to me, giving me the same affable smile that he gave everyone. All the same, his black eyes were like steel above it and I felt myself start to get a bit nervous.

  “Mr. Waterman,” I said again. “Sorry about disturbing you. I just...Brad from Accounting said you needed to see me?”

  “Oh. Yeah,” he nodded. “Come in,” he added, showing me his office door. I nodded and followed him in. “Close the door behind you,” he added.

  Letting my breath almost choke in my throat, I closed the door and followed him to the desk. He indicated a seat and I sat down, facing him.

  “Right. Drake,” he said, pursing his lips and pressing a finger to them thoughtfully. “You're handling our stuff for the tax-audit. Yes?”

  “Sure,” I nodded helpfully. “Is there something I should do for you there?”

  “No, no,” he chuckled. “I was just, well...reminded to remind you of something. About the company.”

  “Um, okay...” I was sweating and I didn't want to show it by having to wipe my brow. I let out a ragged breath and felt my fingers twist where my hand gripped my knee. I sighed. “What is it?”

  “That we have a very strict policy regarding information,” he said. Normally like a cross between Santa and your uncle, his face was alarmingly hard. I swallowed painfully.

  “Yes,” I said. I did know that. So why were they telling me now? Unless...unless they found that file. The one with all the information in it. I shuddered.

  “There are areas of information that are sensitive. Budgeting information. Salary information. Deals. We can't afford carelessness. You understand that?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, clearing my throat. I was sweating, my hands wet where they gripped my knee. “Of course.”

  “Good,” he said. “I'm sure you know the consequence of carelessness.”

  I coughed. “Sure, sir.” I nodded. “I'd fire someone who did that too.”

  He raised his brows, smiling. “Firing is the least of it,” he said disconcertingly. “It's criminal negligence. You're the lawyer. You know better than anyone.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  “Good,” he said again. He fixed me with those dark eyes and I felt sweat start sliding between the muscles down my spine. I wasn't sure when I'd last been so terrified.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He laughed, then. “Fine,” he said. He fixed me with that broad, big-toothed grin that he bestowed on everyone, transforming back into an avuncular Christmas-elf faster than I'd have thought possible. “Hell, Drake,” he chuckled. “I didn't mean to scare you. Just procedure. We've had a bit of a scare recently. Need to be very careful. You never know who's trying to hack in.”

  “Y-yeah,” I nodded. “It's true. Bad,” I added, nodding my head like it was attached with string.

  He nodded. “Very bad. Very bad indeed. Stuff like that could bring us down. Then where would any of us be, eh? This company is our livelihood. Mine, and yours. It's a big thought.”

  “It is,” I nodded, eyes big.

  He chuckled. “Okay, I'll stop. No point in scaring someone. You're our lawyer. We trust in you.”

  I closed my eyes. I really, really wished he hadn't said that. Now instead of feeling scared I just felt remorse. “Yes, sir,” I said in a tight voice. “I do know that.”

  “I know you know,” he said.

  I sat looking at him a while, unsure what to say. I shifted involuntarily in my seat, feeling uncomfortable there. He sighed.

  “Okay,” he said, putting one hand on his desk and fixing me with that same friendly smile. “That was about it. Better work,” he added, reaching for his laptop. “I've got this darn audit to face, too.”

  I nodded. “I should go too,” I added, pushing back the chair, my hands gripping the arm-rests like I wanted to choke them. “Lots that needs doing.”

  “I'm sure,” he nodded. “Okay, thanks a lot.”

  “Not at all,” I said, frowning. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Not a problem,” he called cheerfully as I walked, stiff-legged, out of the room, feeling so tense bits of me might shatter. “It's important, eh?”

  “Yes,” I agreed, mumbling. “Intensely important.”

  His cheery laugh sawed on my nerves as it followed my steps out.

  In my own office I sat down with my elbows on my desk, head held tight. I closed my eyes. I tried to calm down.

  “It's nothing,” I told myself. Just a warning. He didn't mean anything sinister by it. He was just telling me what he likely told everyone after the hacking. He was just doing a routine check.

  Or that would have made sense, if those files hadn't been wiped. If the IT guys hadn't checked up. If Liam's remote connection hadn't been blocked.

  They know.

  I couldn't doubt that now. Why would Henry Waterman have called me in to warn me – in what could be taken as a kind action – if they didn't know? He was warning me. To stop this now, before I get fired.

  Firing is the least of it.

  I swallowed. I was actually shaking. I would get a criminal record. Leaking information – classified, confidential information – from the company where you were employed as a lawyer – a trusted lawyer – was a crime. I knew I had done something illegal.

  But they do illegal things all the time.

  I felt my heart tighten. This was the first time in my whole life I realized, with some amazement, that my principles contradicted each other. I had spent my whole life in a black-and-white world, I realized now: a place where something was either right or wrong and the distinctions were simple.

  Now, I had to do something bad – betray my employers' trust – in order to do something good: uncover exploitation.
/>
  I guess some people have to make choices like this often. This is just the first time it's so clear to me.

  Somehow, it seemed to me like Ainsley would know about this kind of thing. She would be able to see through the wrongness I had to do and into the rightness I was striving to achieve. She would understand me.

  I felt myself relax at that thought. I reached into my pocket, looking at her picture on my phone. It reassured me. That soft oval face, those big brown eyes and her soft golden hair. She was so innocent and yet so wise. I wished she was with me now.

  You would understand what I'm doing, I thought.

  I sighed, put my phone away and started looking up information about Blue Vale. I was going to book tickets for this week. I didn't care how much they cost. I'd go tomorrow if I had to. Doors were closing fast now. I only had a few days' worth of time. I would fly there and then I would contact Alex at BusNews, my friend in the journalistic world. It was time everyone found out about this. Before it was too late.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ainsley

  I stood looking out over the powdery gray-blue of the sunset beyond my window. I towel-dried my frying-pan and set it aside, feeling deeply sad.