Faith turned off the DVD player and got up. “Thank you for stopping by, Jennifer. I promise not to make you wait too long for my decision. Expect to hear from me by next week.”
Jennifer nodded, thanked Faith again, and left.
Faith walked to the fridge at the corner of the room and retrieved a bottle of water. She unscrewed the top, took a swig, and mulled over the interview. Hiring a hair/make-up stylist could mean one less thing to worry about. She glanced at her watch. Her next appointment was due in less than thirty minutes, which gave her a small window to make calls to New York.
She picked up the phone and punched in numbers.
“Elegance Modeling Agency,” a female voice answered after two rings.
“May I talk to Marcela, please? It’s Faith Fitzgerald of Falasha.”
“She’s expecting your call, Ms. Fitzgerald. Just a second while I put you through.”
Faith didn’t wait long before Marcela Radcliffe came on the line. “Hello, darling. When do you get in?” she purred in a British accent. Even after living in the U.S. for fifteen odd years, she still sounded stiff and formal.
“Sunday afternoon.”
“We must do dinner while you’re here. I told my girls you’re the one who threw it all away. They can’t wait to work with you.”
Faith laughed. “Threw it away? I never had it to begin with, Marcella. You’re just being kind.”
“You know me, luv. I never say anything I don’t mean. You would have landed a Victoria Secrets contract if you hadn’t walked away.” She chuckled then continued. “Now about your show, I’ve lined up enough girls for you to choose from, including a few that are size twelve like you requested. Send me your itinerary, so I can finish the go-see scheduling.”
Once she finished with Marcela, Faith leaned back against her chair and sipped her water. Talking to Marcela often brought a smile to her lips. Faith had signed up with Elegance Modeling Agency during her first year in college, went to numerous go-sees without landing a high-profile runaway job. She hadn’t been scrawny enough. Like then, her hips were a tad wide and her chest too endowed for couture designs except for swim wear, which she modeled quite a bit. Her experience taught her to appreciate the work that went into modeling.
When she’d contacted Marcela about using her girls, Marcela had been more than accommodating. Models were booked fast during Fashion Week and they didn’t come cheap, especially the ones sought after like Marcela’s. But she had given Falasha a decent discount. If things went according to plans, the show would translate into profit. Faith hoped to leave New York with a list of retailers interested in her collection. Having L.A. Fashion Market a month later would give her enough time to prepare for the global buyers who flocked California Market Center to place orders.
Faith threw the empty water bottle in the trash and frowned. The culmination of her five year goal to have her designs in retail stores was so close. Excitement and nervousness vied for dominance inside her. Hip, younger designers popped out of the woodwork every year. Throw in the ones who got instant exposure through television shows like Project Runway or pop artists branching into fashion, and the competition kept getting stiffer. This was her chance to make her dream a reality. Failure wasn’t an option.
Her cell phone rang, interrupting her reverie. She didn’t check the identity of the caller, just picked up the receiver and brought it to her ear. “Yes?”
“I need your help.”
Ken. A gentle wash of warmth settled in her midsection. She’d chosen not to call him last night after he ignored her suggestion. Bet he was already regretting his decision not to listen to her about her aunt and her friends, which was probably why he was calling.
“Good morning, Ken,” she said, keeping her voice upbeat.
“These women are driving me nuts. Don’t say ‘I told you so,’ Faith, or I’ll make you pay. Last night, I tried convincing Barbara that I had everything under control and got nowhere. Now there’re clucking around, turning my office into some fancy café. Barbara even brought her imported coffee from Lord-knows-where and tiny scones specially made for her with soy milk. I had to try them,” he growled.
He sounded so aggravated, she chuckled.
“It’s not funny,” he snapped.
She laughed. “You should hear yourself.”
“Faith,” he threatened.
“Okay. How can I help?”
“Come and help me get rid of them. They’ve commandeered my office and hijacked my investigation. I’m afraid to leave, or I’d come pick you up myself. How soon can you get here?”
Faith rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going anywhere, but she felt sorry for him. He was dealing with a formidable team. “Why are you afraid to leave?”
“They’ll steal the rest of my employees. Rod and Duncan are already in their pockets, the dimwits,” he said with disgust. “My assistant is a movie junkie and their number one fan. It’s like being in the Twilight Zone.” His voice dropped as he added, “One of them can’t seem to keep her hands to herself. I think she’s at my door right now trying to get inside.”
Faith burst out laughing. “Sounds like Sissy found husband number three.”
“Not interested.”
“You’d better not tell her that because she’ll only consider you a challenge. Play along and she’ll leave you alone. Easy conquests bore her. So what have you told them?”
“I offered to have Rod escort them to O’Neal’s office and act as their bodyguard. They wanted to know why. So, I explained Rod’s real reason for accompanying them.”
“Which is?”
“To bug the place and take some pictures. That turned out to be the wrong thing to admit because now they want to do it. Can you believe that? The transmitters we use are delicate and expensive. The last thing I need is amateurs playing around with them. Just a second.” He said something to someone in the background before getting back on the line. “Listen, I understand their loyalty to you, but this is my investigation and they’re screwing with it. Get over here and explain to them why I need to work alone.”
Faith sighed. “I’d like to help, Ken, but I can’t. I have an important interview—”
“Reschedule.”
“I can’t,” she added in an exasperated voice. “But I’ve been in situations like this with them before, so this is what you should do. Give them a part to play, nothing big or dangerous. You’ll be amazed how nice they are once they get their way.”
“I thought my mother was bad,” he added softly.
Faith smothered a chuckle. “Maybe they’ll be happy after helping today and leave you alone. Why are you bugging Sean’s place?”
“We haven’t been able to get anything useful from his phone or place him anywhere near one of your people, but that doesn’t mean he’s not guilty,” he added quickly as though to reassure her. “We need to figure out who he’s communicating with. I have someone trailing him now, but I’d be happier once we have audio and video feed from his workplace. Rod can take care of the audio today and we’ll install the video sometime in the next few days. Or should I say nights. We’ll be able to access his computers, safe, or wherever he stashes his designs. By next week, we should know everything about the man, down to what he stole from you.”
The more Faith listened to Ken, the more his thoroughness impressed her. The annoyance in his voice faded as he outlined his strategy. Too often, she met people who hated their jobs and whined incessantly. It was refreshing to meet someone who actually enjoyed what he did for a living. Her only worry was the entire operation sounded expensive and he hadn’t yet told her how much it would set her back financially.
“Seems like you have everything under control,” Faith said, mentally searching for an opening to ask about the cost.
“Which is why your friends shouldn’t be here.”
“I also noticed the video of the fight is down. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, and it hardly qualified as a fight.”
“Thanks,” Faith mouthed then added louder into the receiver, “I’ve got to go, Ken. If you get a chance, can you e-mail me the contract for the investigation? You never got around to giving it to me.’
“There’s no hurry.”
“Still, I’d like to have it on file. Let me know how everything goes.”
He sighed. “If they don’t drive me insane first, sure.”
***
Ken pushed the cell phone back in its holder and headed toward the door. Conversation stopped when he entered the main floor of his offices. Sly, Hailey, and the five women were seated around the visitors’ waiting area, sipping coffee and rehearsing movie scenes the women had written. Lucy was back at her desk on the computer, but Duncan was gone. Ken hadn’t expected him to hang around forever after checking in.
“What did she say?” Estelle Fitzgerald asked.
Ken cocked his brow. “What did who say?”
“Faith,” she said. “You were talking to her, right?”
For a moment, Ken frowned. The door to his office had been closed so they couldn’t have overheard him.
“What makes you think I was talking to her?”
Estelle chuckled. “Dear boy, you left with a thunderous expression and came back grinning like a well-fed Cheshire cat. Unless you were talking to another woman….”
“Which would be very bad for a budding relationship like yours and Faith’s,” Barbara added.
The others nodded and watched him with narrowed eyes.
He didn’t bother to respond. There was no way he was letting these women meddle in his personal life, too. They were already knee-deep in his investigation against his better judgment. Maybe if he made them feel cornered, they might back off and save him the worries that came with collaborating with amateurs. As for Rod, they needed to have a long talk about disclosing his personal life. Just because he told the Cuban that Faith was his didn’t give him the license to tell other people.
Ken pointed at Sly and Hailey. “You can leave now. Park as close to his building as you can and call me when you have everything set up. ”
Hailey slowly wheeled the wheelchair-bound Sly out the door, obviously reluctant to leave. Sissy raised a finger and asked, “Are they going to case O’Neal’s building?”
“Give me a moment before I answer that.” Ken went to Lucy and said in lowered tones, “The copies we discussed earlier.”
She shook her head, got up with the contracts and five pens, and distributed them to the women. When he arrived in the office this morning, he’d explained his plan for this pack of Hollywood insiders. She hadn’t approved, and going by the set of her lips, still didn’t. Too bad. When it came to business, he covered all the bases.
“This is a non-disclosure contract which states that what we’re about to discuss and do are confidential and cannot be disclosed to a third party or used in any form without my permission. I’ve listed you down as consultants, but if anyone has a problem with that or the wording, then feel free not to sign it. As consultants, you’re technically not employees of this firm, which means we’re not culpable if you get hurt, caught, or damage anything during this investigation. Again, if you have a problem with this, don’t sign the contract.”
Ken waited with anticipation as they each read the document. If one of them balked at signing without a lawyer present, the others were sure to follow. Who would go first? He didn’t care.
Any hope of the women backing out evaporated when each and every one of them signed the form and handed their copy to Lucy. She threw him a grin as if to say, ‘Told you it wouldn’t work.’
“You’re very thorough,” Monique said. She hadn’t said much since they arrived. “I can see why Faith chose you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. VanderMarck,” Ken said though he wasn’t sure whether she meant why Faith chose him as a P.I. or something else. But from her solemn expression and those of her friends, they were probably realizing the gravity of what they were about to do. “Okay, let’s begin. Hailey and Sly are our tech team for today. We’re out of range for our system to pick up the transmission, so they’ll monitor the audio signals from a van parked closer to O’Neal’s building. As for your team, Rod is still going to be in charge. He’ll take pictures with this.”
Ken lifted the sunglasses he’d used the day before, showed them the hidden micro-camera and explained how the remote button worked. “Try to take him with you to every room you enter. If that’s not possible, come up with an excuse for him to join you. One of you can fake sudden dizziness or something. If that doesn’t work, take the glasses from him in the guise of trying them on. We have the schematics of the floor but we need to know the arrangement in each room, including how many computers are in the offices. If possible, find out where he stores his finished stuff. Maybe you ladies can help with that.”
A few hands went up and Ken sighed.
“No need to raise hands to speak,” he said, “but I’d appreciate it if you could let me finish before you ask questions.” He waited for the nods then continued. “We plan to go back later to install video cameras. If he tries to destroy Faith, we’ll have everything we need to bury him. Rod will take pictures of everything because we’ll need to find a way to access his offices. Any questions?”
No one spoke.
He picked up a quarter-size crystal transmitter and explaining how it worked. “The 3V battery in each bug will last a week, which is all the time we need to wrap up this investigation. Last, only two of you will ask for the exact designs of the gowns Faith is making. Decide among yourself who those two will be. The remaining two go with whatever his people suggest. You don’t want to arouse the man’s suspicions by acting alike. Mrs. Fitzgerald, you—”
“Can’t go because I’m likely to hit him with my bag and blow our cover,” Estelle said, her brown eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry, I have errands to run and Barbs will call me later with the news.”
Ken nodded. “Good. Remember, ladies. You go in, get the job done, and get out. Keep your cool, and no heroic moves under any circumstances. That will land you all in jail.”
The women nodded without a single protest. Eliza Goldschmidt stood and shook his hand. “I’ll repeat what Monique said earlier, I’m impressed by how detailed you’ve planned this operation. Maybe you and I can have lunch sometime and discuss business. I could use your expertise in one of my movies.”
“Let’s talk later,” he answered.
“I wouldn’t mind doing a documentary about the work of a security consultant,” Sissy added with a wink.
He knew the kind of documentary she had in mind. “Thanks for the thought, Sissy, but that would put me out of business.” Unlike the others, she’d insisted Ken call her by her name. “In my line of work, anonymity is everything.” He looked at his watch. “It’s time to leave.”
Instead of feeling relieved that he’d prepared them, Ken’s worries shot up a notch as he watched the women and Rod leave. What if they made a mistake and O’Neal discovered he was being set up?
“Standing here and staring at the door is not going to ease your concerns,” Lucy said gently from behind him.
He glanced at her and frowned. “They’ll be okay, right?”
“Oh yeah. Those women have survived Hollywood. They can survive anything.”
He didn’t see how surviving Hollywood had anything to do with it. Their world was make-believe while his wasn’t. “I’ll be in the office if anyone calls. Meanwhile, e-mail me a copy of our standard client contract.”
Ken went to his desk and logged onto his e-mail account. As soon as he received the contract, he made a few changes then sent it to Faith. He tried to go through O’Neal’s phone calls and text messages, but they didn’t hold his interest for long. He was soon pacing the floor of his office. Through the opened door, he caught Lucy watching
him. Despite her earlier reassurance, she looked concerned too.
When the phone rang, they both dove for the one on their desks.
“Can I talk to the boss?” Sly asked.
“I got it, Lucy. What’s going on, Sly? Where are you parked?”
Sly gave Ken their location before adding, “We just picked up transmission from the foyer. The noise is minimal, so the sound is really clear. Rod must have planted one in a phone line plug because we’re getting phone conversations, too.”
The relief that surged through him was short-lived. Ken needed to be out there, not here sweating and waiting for the phone to ring.
“Great. You guys are going to be there for a while, so how about I bring out some donuts and coffee?”
“Sounds good, Boss. Uh, could you make them caramel lattes?”
“No problem. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Meanwhile, I have my cell phone if you need to contact me.” As though on cue, vibrations rattled the holder at his waist. He put the office phone back in its base, and brought the cell to his ear. “Yeah!?”
“Whoa, big brother. Easy on the eardrum. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Misa. Ken backpedalled, grinning. “Yes. Just one of those moments that comes with my work.”
“Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going to use work to bail out on me, Kenneth. You promised you’d be here for Mom and Dad’s anniversary.”
“I know. I’ll e-mail you my itinerary a.s.a.p.” He began an online search for airline tickets and waited for a list of links to pop up.
“You haven’t bought your ticket yet?” Misa asked, not masking her outrage.
“Have too.” He found the right link and clicked.
“No, you haven’t, you fibber. Seriously, Ken. It’s their fortieth anniversary. Have you any idea how important this is?”
“It is?” he teased her.
“Or how much I’ve already done to make this party happen?” she continued as though he hadn’t spoken.
“I helped too.”
“You tracked down the priest, big whoop.”
Dangerous Love Page 8