Sins

by Lee, Nadia

  She clicks her tongue. “Lucky for you, things wrapped up early, and I just landed in LAX.”

  “I want to know exactly where and how Sam Peacher got his initial investment to start Peacher & Son and made his fortune.”

  “Read articles about him and his company. There should be plenty,” she says.

  “I thought you liked money.”

  “I like giving my clients value.”

  “I don’t want some junk a journalist on a tight deadline dug up.”

  She sighs. “All right. How deep?”

  “All the way till you hit the bottom. Then bring out another shovel.”

  “I see.” I can almost hear her mind whirring. “It won’t be fast.”

  “Just don’t take too long. Report back every week.”

  “Will do.” She hangs up.

  I lay the phone down carefully on my desk and consider. One way or the other, I’m going to break whatever hold Sam has over Iris…and find out exactly what “memories” he’s filled her head with.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Iris

  The rest of the week passes in lovely routine. Get up and get dressed for work, share a quick breakfast with Tony, ride to the foundation in the Cullinan with our hands linked, then nine to five and back home in his car to the penthouse, where we have dinner. I practice the piano for about an hour, and then we go to bed, where we drive each other crazy with lust.

  I enjoy my new life much more than I expected. Having structure to my days makes things easier, somehow. I tried to maintain as much as possible during my travels, doing my best to stay in the same city for at least a month so I could set up some kind of routine. It’s nice to know what’s happening each day, so I don’t feel like I’m spending time wondering what I should be doing and frittering my life away.

  Then there’s Tony. He makes my week brighter, more fun. Every time I’m around him, I feel protected and cherished. Sometimes I wonder if it’s love. Neither of us has said the word, of course. It seems a bit premature, but…

  “We should celebrate your first week at work,” Tony says on our way to the foundation on Friday.

  “Oh? What do you have in mind?” I lean closer so TJ won’t overhear. “Other than nocturnal activities.”

  Tony laughs. “How about a weekend trip to Napa?”

  “Really?”

  He nods.

  “I’d love to! I’ve never been.”

  “We can leave after work.”

  “That’s perfect.” I lift our linked hand and kiss his. “You’re perfect.”

  I’ve been on more trips in the last six years than most people take in a lifetime, but this one feels special because it’s my first with Tony.

  “I’ll pick you up at five,” he says as the Cullinan stops in front of my office.

  Impulsively, I kiss him, blurt out, “Love you,” and jump out of the car before he can respond. I run toward the lobby.

  My face is hot and my heart is racing like crazy, but my reaction has nothing to do with my little sprint in low heels. It’s got everything to do with the fact that I said the L-word.

  Maybe you shouldn’t have run off right after like he’s Typhoid Tony, part of me chides.

  Yeah, it’s immature, but I’m inexplicably feeling shy. I’ve never said that to a man before. And even though it seems early, I wanted Tony to know.

  I’m reaching into my purse for my employee badge when a large hand takes my arm and spins me around. I blink up at Tony, who’s looking at me with an emotion so intense, it’s positively riveting.

  “You can’t just leave like that,” he says, his voice thick.

  I’m searching for something to say when he says, “I love you too,” and kisses me, just a soft brush of his lips over mine.

  My heart swells, knocks against my chest with such force, I can’t speak…or breathe.

  “Now. Have a good day at work,” he says, squeezing my hand like he can’t bear to let go.

  “You too.” I smile, then watch him walk backward toward the Cullinan.

  When he finally slips inside the car and vanishes, I go to the office, my step so light that I feel like I’m floating.

  Tolyan gives me a coolly appraising glance. “You seem happy.”

  “Yes. Isn’t today beautiful?” I look out the windows. “Sunny, too.”

  “It’s always sunny in Los Angeles.”

  “I know, but today’s extra-special sunny.”

  His eyes stay on me for a few more seconds, then he grunts and goes back to his paperwork. I start checking the final list of organizations Elizabeth wants to partner with this year to deliver holiday meals and presents. Then I hit the phone.

  Just as I finish the final call, Audrey Duff walks in, her narrowed eyes on me. Her bleached hair is curled and swept to one side, tumbling over a shoulder. A skintight dress in the same shade of red as her lips is molded to her slim body, and she strides across the vestibule in stilettos with needle-thin heels.

  Crap. Is she here for an encore? I quickly check my desk. Nothing she can throw in my face. And she isn’t holding a Starbucks cup, so I’m probably safe.

  She stops in front of me.

  “Elizabeth isn’t available today,” I say with a fake smile.

  “I’m not here to see her. I’m here to see you,” Audrey says, in a voice so creamy and dulcet that it feels like melted butter in my ear.

  I suppress a shudder. “I don’t believe we have an appointment.”

  “I don’t believe I need an appointment to see an assistant.”

  Condescending much? Would it kill her to be nice, since she obviously wants something from me? “Is there something you want to discuss?”

  “I wanted to apologize for my behavior on Friday if it, you know, upset you. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “If it upset me? Wasn’t that exactly what you wanted when you threw the wine in my face?”

  “Honestly? No. I was doing it to upset Tony.”

  Can she hear herself? Must be the acting experience to spew non-logic with a straight face. “Then you should’ve thrown it in his face.”

  “But as you saw, I didn’t. So I’m apologizing,” she says like she’s talking to an imbecile.

  “You don’t even know why you’re sorry, do you?”

  “Just accept the gesture. I’m not going to grovel.”

  Wow. What the hell kind of an apology is that? I cross my arms. “I wasn’t expecting an apology, so I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here.”

  “All you have to do is sign this.” She slaps a sheet of paper on my desk.

  Since I’m not dumb enough to put my name on something without reading it first, I lean forward and skim it. It basically states Audrey apologized and I am satisfied and bear her no ill will whatsoever. In addition, I want nothing but the best for her.

  I look up. “Why would I do that?”

  She sighs impatiently. “Does it matter?”

  “Are you afraid I’m going to sue?”

  Blinking, she pulls back, then titters. “Oh my God, no, I’d never.” She fans her face with a hand. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard! No, it’s for Ryder, sweetie. Ryder Reed. He got upset about the whole restaurant thing and won’t make the movie with me. I need this. It’s going to be my breakout. So this will show Ryder we’re all good now.”

  Even a month ago, I might’ve signed it, not wanting to ruin a woman’s dream. But not now.

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “Your apology was half-assed, and grudgingly given. I couldn’t care less what happens to your career.”

  “What?”

  I wince. Is she trying to make me deaf now? “You heard me.”

  “You mousy little bitch! You think you won?” She reaches across the desk, trying to grab my wrist.

  But a bigger, meaner hand takes her forearm. “You don’t abuse the foundation’s employees, especially not in the office,” Tolyan says, inexorably pulling her back. />
  “How dare you!” She struggles, but she might as well be struggling against a silverback. “Do you know who I am?”

  His cool, disinterested gaze sweeps over her. “Of course. Everybody knows all the third-rate actresses who desperately need to ride Ryder Reed’s coattails to fame.”

  Audrey turns redder than her dress. “You…you…” Suddenly she puts on a seductive smile. “You wouldn’t abuse a woman, would you?”

  “I see no woman. Just someone who’s overstayed her welcome.” He swings her around and propels her with enough force to make her take a couple of quick tottering steps toward the lobby. “Now leave.”

  She glares at me, one hand rubbing her arm. “You’re going to regret this. Do you think Tony’s with you because he cares about you? He’s—”

  “Enough.” The word sounds like a knife. “If you don’t shut up and get out now, you won’t be able to take any more roles that require a pretty face.”

  She pales under the artful makeup. “Bastard.” She storms away, those heels hitting the floor with more force than necessary.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Tolyan merely stares at me. The frigid look in his pale blue eyes makes me shiver. He isn’t looking at me like a coworker. He is looking at me like a bug he can’t decide whether to squash or not. “Your uncle is sending a car for you in half an hour,” he finally says.

  “Um… What?”

  “He decided to make a donation and requested that you go pick up the check in person. And have lunch with him as well.”

  You gotta be kidding. I thought he’d given up, but I guess not. He was just looking for another way to bend me to his will. “No,” I say.

  “Pardon?” The two quiet syllables from Tolyan’s lips sound more threatening than “I’ll kill you.” How does he do that?

  “He can mail it, or his driver can bring it in.”

  “Those were not the terms Lizochka agreed to.”

  I lick my dry lips. “But…”

  “It’s your uncle, Iris. Is there a problem?”

  Tolyan has no idea.

  “He said if you don’t come, no donation. Lizochka has already earmarked the money for the children’s medical fund. He was very specific.”

  I close my eyes. Sam has totally outmaneuvered me. The last thing I want to do is air my dirty laundry to Elizabeth. Or fail her in this. I remember the letter from the mother of the girl who had her arm saved because of the foundation. I can’t not do this.

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll go. But if I’m not back by two…” I hesitate, unsure how to phrase the next part.

  “Yes?”

  “Send someone to get me,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. “Please.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Anthony

  I walk inside La Mer for lunch. It’s one of the most fashionable restaurants in the city, but I’ve never been here because it’s owned by one of Ryder’s cousins. As far as I know, they’re pretty tight, and I can’t be certain of my welcome.

  But Elizabeth wants to eat here. Her cousins all think she walks on water, and apparently she can get a table any time she wants, bypassing the three-month-long waiting list.

  The restaurant’s interior is exactly like what the glossy lifestyle magazines and TV features have shown. The walls are constructed of aquaria filled with tropical fish. The deep, soothing blue makes you feel like you’re surrounded by sea. Combined with the lazy motions of the fish, the interior has a calming, almost meditative effect. I can understand why people come here for the ambiance alone.

  The hostess takes me to a private room all the way in the back. Elizabeth’s already seated there with a glass of white wine. She’s dressed in a magenta Chanel—classy and expensive, just like the woman herself. Surprisingly, her Russian guard dog is absent.

  “Tony, thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” she says pleasantly.

  “No problem,” I say, sitting opposite her.

  “Lunch?”

  “Sure.”

  A sharply dressed waitress materializes, takes our order and vanishes. We sip our drinks and exchange pleasantries while I wonder what this meeting is about. We don’t have the kind of relationship that includes leisurely lunches. I don’t have much to say to her, but she’ll start when she’s ready to broach the reason for this meeting.

  Unless… Did her Russian dig up something about Iris? But if there was anything really irregular, Elizabeth could’ve just called. I can’t think of anything that would require a face-to-face chat.

  When our lunch is served, she takes a bite of her salmon. My ahi tuna is perfectly seared and sliced. I start eating, projecting a man who has nothing better to do than waste time with her.

  After a few more bites and finishing her wine, Elizabeth leans back in her seat. “Tony, what are you planning?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know you don’t like Ryder, but the foundation has nothing to do with him.”

  “And…?”

  “And he’s married, too. He’s very much in love with his wife.”

  I stare at Elizabeth, completely confused. “I’m not sure why he’s relevant.”

  “You and I both know you don’t like him.”

  “I’m not currently doing anything to sabotage his life. Didn’t he tell you I sent his wife a gift? Well, it was for the baby, really, but…” I shrug.

  Elizabeth’s gray eyes narrow. “You sent me a dead woman.”

  I sit up straight. My brain’s refusing to process what I just heard. A dead woman. “What did you just say?”

  “Iris Smith died nine years ago. Her parents were driving drunk after a piano recital in early fall, and she was in the back seat.”

  Apprehension scuttles along my spine like a scorpion. Of all the things I thought her Russian might dig up, this never, ever crossed my mind.

  “You’ve…lost me completely,” I manage, my voice hoarse.

  Elizabeth’s gaze turns hard. “We run background checks on everyone. She looked clean initially, but Tolyan found some minor inconsistencies. Digging deeper, he discovered Iris Smith from Almond Valley is dead.” Her voice loses all of its warmth. “Now tell me what game you’re playing.”

  “I’m not playing a game.” Someone else is. And I have no idea who. Or what the final goal is.

  “Then what’s going on?”

  “I need to go to the foundation and see Iris.” I start to stand.

  Elizabeth gestures at me to sit down. “You can’t. She went to see her uncle to pick up his donation check. I told him it was fine for them to have a long lunch together if he wants.”

  My heart thundering in my chest, I explode to my feet. Fucking Sam Peacher! Should’ve ripped him apart when I had the chance.

  “Damn you, Elizabeth!” I snarl. “You shouldn’t have done that!”

  Eyes wide, she jumps to her feet as well. She reaches out, her fingers brushing my arm. “Tony, you’re scaring me.”

  “You think you’re scared?” Shaking her off, I run out.

  I have to reach Iris. Now.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Iris

  The car Sam sent stops in front of his mansion. Damn it. I thought he’d take me to his office or a restaurant. There aren’t any witnesses or people to make Sam behave himself. I haven’t forgotten the way he tried to forcibly pack me off to Tokyo.

  Apprehension creeps over me like a mist. At least I had the foresight to ask Tolyan to come get me if I didn’t return by two. But I can’t decide if he’ll actually do it or not. He’s so difficult to read. I still don’t know if he even likes me.

  “Miss Iris.” Sam’s butler greets me, spine straight and chin held high. He’s quite tall, and if I tilt my head just a bit, I can look up into his huge nostrils.

  “Hi, Max. Is Sam here?”

  “Yes. He’s expecting you. Right this way.”

  He turns smartly and leads me through the glittering halls with high ceilings covered with Cubist murals. At the end, Max
steps through the French doors to the huge pool. Sam’s seated at a table near the water at the opposite end of the pool, cutting into a pork chop on his plate. He’s dressed like a British country gentleman—a starched shirt, dark brown slacks and a vest with a bow tie. A monocle and pocket watch chain hanging out of his vest would complete the look.

  Max and I walk along the pool until we reach Sam’s table. “Miss Iris is here,” Max announces.

  “Thank you,” Sam says pleasantly, then gestures at an empty seat opposite him. “Have a seat, Iris.”

  “Sorry, but I’m only here for the check. Busy with work.”

  A glimmer of smug triumph shines in his eyes. “Not according to your boss. Elizabeth said you could take as much time as you want.”

  Ah, crap. I didn’t think he’d check with her. “I’m really not hungry,” I say, refusing to take the seat.

  Sam purses his mouth. “You practically quit eating after the accident. It’s changed you.”

  I look away. This is such a waste of time, but he’s not going to hand over the check until he’s satisfied. “Why are you doing this?” I ask, still standing.

  “I should’ve never let you come back to L.A. Look, if you don’t like Tokyo, go to Madrid. It’s beautiful. Healing.”

  I face him again. “I don’t need Madrid. I’ve already made progress since coming back, and it hasn’t even been three weeks.”

  “Progress? How?”

  “I’ve regained some more memories, which is more than I can say about the last thirty-six-plus months on the road, when I didn’t remember anything new.”

  Sam squints. “Which memories, exactly?”

  “Someone named Tatiana.” I throw that in his face with satisfaction. “Some girl I used to go to school with. An Asian girl.”

  “Name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sam considers. “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  Leaning back in his seat, he gives me a pitying smile. “For all we know, you could be remembering them because of your trips. Besides, Tatiana? Who is she? And the girl? You don’t even know her name. Do you know how many Asians there are in the country?”