Good god, there’s more? Emily wisely kept that thought to herself.
“I’ve convinced him to have the wedding and reception at the house and in the gardens. Crazy, right that I have to ask that douche for permission to host the weddin’ in my own mother’s house?”
Emily murmured her assent, waiting to see where this was going.
“So the night of the dinner party, that will give you the excuse to walk through the house to figure out the layout and how to stage the caterers and flowers, and all that stuff without him getting suspicious about someone walking through the different rooms in the house. Ethan and I’ll keep him occupied while you roam, and then there’s this thing-y you’re supposed to do to his computer…but I don’t understand all that technical nonsense, so you’ll have to talk to Ethan about it.”
“What? I have to do something to his computer? I don’t know, Charlotte, that sounds kind of dangerous. I’m not even supposed to know about this, remember?”
“Oh, honey, I’m so, so sorry we all dragged you into this.” There was sincere regret in Charlotte’s voice. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have to get involved like this. I wasn’t thinking about it that way. I was so happy that Jonas proposed, and I saw a way for us to get out of this awful situation. I didn’t even think of how it would affect you. Of course you don’t want to do this. You’ve already done so much, risking so much by messing with the invoices. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something else out.” By the end, Charlotte sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
“No, it’s okay. I can help…I want to help.”
“No, Em, it’s not worth it for you.” Maybe it was the way Charlotte used the diminutive of her name, as if she was a friend. Maybe it was because Charlotte really was as good at getting what she wanted as Ethan had once told her. But Emily was convinced she was going to do this.
“I’m doing it, and you can’t stop me,” she taunted as if she were in third grade. “Seriously, I really do want to help.”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte’s voice was subdued. “I think here’s got to be another way. I’m being such a terrible friend, and you are so good to me.”
Emily’s heart swelled when Charlotte said the word friend. Now a bit tearful herself, Emily sputtered, “I’m doing it. Gotta go,” and hung up before Charlotte could say anything else.
Emily sighed. She wasn’t ready to deal with Ethan, but she was going to have to anyway. Hopefully, she could stay strong and keep it professional. She steeled herself and dialed Ethan’s number, only to be greeted with the beep, beep, beep of a busy signal.
“Fuck,” she yelled to the room. Now she’d have to prepare all over again.
The second time she called, sound of his deep, sexy voice saying hello sent chills down her core and made her heart speed up.
“Um, hey,” Emily said, feeling lame. “Charlotte sort of filled me in on the computer stuff. But she didn’t remember all the details, so she said I should talk to you.”
Ethan’s deep rumble of a laugh sent trembles of arousal through Emily’s body.
“Yes, I just got off the phone with her. She threatened to chop my balls off if I let you get involved with this. She said you were too kind of a person to take these risks, and we were all selfish assholes for even considering bringing you in.”
“And you said?”
“I told her it was no secret that I’m a selfish asshole and that there’s only one woman allowed close to my balls.”
“Oh!” Emily squeaked.
“And to be clear, so there’s no misunderstanding, I meant you,” Ethan’s voice was soft, sensual, and rolled over her like a warm blanket.
“That night was amazing. I know it was great for you, too. But I want more than a single fifteen-minute fuck, Emily. I never wanted you to be a one-night stand. I want more for us. I’m putting it out there. I like you; I want to date you. God, I am hard right now just because I can hear your voice on the other end of this phone. I’m in this, Em, what about you?”
Emily wanted to say yes, but her heart quaked at the thought of accepting and the angry taste of panic bubbled at the back of her throat. Every time she heard his voice, all she could think about was his mouth moving over her, tasting her lips and her body. The way he groaned in satisfaction when he came. She remembered how his lips felt when they whispered her name against her mouth, and how he told her how fucking good she made him feel. She so desperately wanted to say yes.
She even opened her mouth, willed the word to form on her lips, but her voice remained stubbornly silent.
Ethan had paused, waiting, probably for her to reply. He sighed, then, and across the miles that separated them, she felt his disappointment touching her soul.
“Okay, you’re not ready. I get it. I’ll let it go. For now. But we will come back to this.”
Emily breathed out in relief; she’d received a stay of execution. Though really, there was no comparison between being asked out on a date and being killed. Logically, she knew that. She’d talked and talked and talked with the therapist about it, but the fear of abandonment remained. Once again, Ethan was putting her needs first, knowing instinctively what she needed. It was going to be so hard to say goodbye.
“…will be next Friday. You’ll have the flash drive with the program on it. All you’ll need to do is upload it to Gaines’s computer.”
Emily realized she wasn’t paying attention to what was probably critical information. She forced her voice to sound light and airy.
“Wait, what? I think my phone cut out for a moment.” Then another thought struck her. “Should we even be talking about this on the phone? Can’t someone be, like, listening in on us or something? The NSA?”
Ethan chuckled. “Nice catch, Emily. You’re right, we typically don’t talk about these details over the phone. But the NSA isn’t interested in us right now since nothing Gaines is doing will compromise national security. He’s a crook and a thief, but not a terrorist or saboteur. And we have no reason to think he’s monitoring any of our calls. In fact, we’ve got his phones tapped, and have someone monitoring his activities, so we’d know if he was onto us.” Ethan paused for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was full of sex again. “Of course, darlin’, if you’re looking for an excuse for me to come over to…brief you…in person, then you just need to say the word. Though this time, I’d make sure there was nothing brief about it.”
Emily shivered as his voice reached straight into her heart, and her soul, and her already throbbing pussy, and thought about how much she did want him there, how much she wanted him inside her.
“No! I mean, um, no…this is fine. It’s good. Just…tell me the part about what I need to do again. Or better yet, can you email it to me?”
Ethan hesitated a moment before answering.
“Right, we’re not talking about us. I forgot. Sure, I’ll email you the details. And next time we meet, you can make sure Charlotte’s around so you don’t have to worry that I’m going to slip my fingers in your wet pussy and finger fuck you the second I see you. How’s that sound to you?”
Emily struggled to breathe, heart and pussy hammering…with no idea what to say. She didn’t have to worry about it for long though, because as she was still trying to catch her breath, she heard the soft click in her ear that told her Ethan had ended the call. Though part of her was relieved that she didn’t have to come up with a response, another, bigger part was heartbroken that he was gone.
Chapter Seventeen
In the end, Ethan didn’t send Emily the email. He sent Jonas instead, a situation that left Emily feeling both relieved and chagrinned. Jonas explained how the evening was expected to unfold. The players would be Charlotte, Ethan, Vivienne, Ron Gaines, and Emily. To Vivienne and Ron, the purpose of the meeting was to go through some last minute details and for Emily to walk through the house and plan where different vendors and events would be set up for the wedding.
To facilitate the excuse that Emily would need to r
oam through the house, she was supposed to propose that specific “zones” be set up in the house for people to enjoy unique activities, such as a lounge room complete with low couches, dim lights, and dark, pulsing music. Another suggestion was to be a card room for the male guests who didn’t want to spend their time on the dance floor.
The wedding planner in Emily cringed at the thought that she’d actually have to suggest such awful ideas. No one in their right mind would plan a wedding that split the guests into individual rooms. The whole point of the wedding was for everyone to come together and celebrate.
Jonas held up a hand at her protests, reminding her that this wasn’t a real wedding. Emily bit her lip, hard, to keep from slinging back a nasty comment.
The goal, Jonas said, was for Emily to find an excuse to walk the house on her own and end up in Gaines’s office, where his computer would be. She then needed to upload the software program stored on the flash drive, which, when active, would automatically track all of Gaines’s computer activity and send it to the FBI. Shortly after the program was working, Emily would send some large invoices to Vivienne, who would have to ask Gaines for money to cover her while her accounts were still inaccessible. The hope was that Gaines would then access the secret accounts, and the FBI could track them down to their origins and arrest him.
It sounded simple. It also sounded overly complicated.
“Why can’t someone just go in when Ron’s not home and do this?” Emily asked.
“That was the original plan,” Jonas replied, letting out a deep sigh. He rubbed his bald head, a gesture that reminded Emily of Ethan, though the two men looked nothing alike. “But Gaines has gotten full-time security in the house, and the guards would be suspicious if someone was in the house, and specifically his office when he wasn’t home.”
“Even Charlotte?”
“Especially Charlotte. She’s noticed that the whenever she’s there, the guard is stationed right outside his office door. There’s no chance for her to go in unnoticed, and no reason for her to be there that wouldn’t arouse suspicion.”
“Okay, but what about a camera? Won’t he have a security camera in the room?”
Jonas looked at her. His eyes, though troubled, were kind, and Emily could understand why Charlotte had fallen for him. She reached out her hand and touched his forearm, in comfort, not desire. He smiled wanly; accepting her gesture and acknowledging how fucked up everything was.
“We think he’s confident enough in his security team that he wouldn’t feel like he’d need any security on the inside. Plus, since he’s likely engaged in illegal activities, he wouldn’t want any record of them, even if they were recorded by himself. So that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Shouldn’t?” Emily whispered, feeling suddenly scared. She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing, suddenly, that Ethan was there, wrapping her up in a warm and comforting embrace. She remembered how calming he’d been when she spilled the story of her parents, how safe and…well, loved, he’d made her feel. As though she was someone worth loving. Someone worth staying for.
“We’ll be there as backup.” Jonas sounded confident. “And you can back out, but you know that we’ve never been this close before. If we lose this chance and have to come up with a new plan, he could slip away.”
Emily blew out a breath. “I’m not going to bail on you, Jonas. I know how important this is. I’m just nervous too. This is so far from anything I ever thought I’d be doing. I’m a wedding planner, the biggest danger I have to deal with is making sure the bride or groom doesn’t hook up with someone else before the ceremony.”
Emily halted, realizing what she’d said.
“You’ve been great, and we all have such respect for you for doing it. Charlotte hasn’t stopped singing your praises since she met you. I don’t even want to tell you what she threatened to do to me if anything goes wrong for you.”
Emily was able to smile genuinely for the first time during her time with Jonas.
“And Ethan…he’s like a brother to me, and he was dragged into the mess, too. It’s hard on him. I told myself to stay out of it, and I will, but…well, he’s better since he met you.
“That’s all.” Jonas squeezed her shoulder gently, then slipped out the door into the night.
*****
The evening of the meeting approached. Emily’s nerves had her constantly on edge, a knot in her stomach refused to relax, and she envisioned all the things that could go wrong—most especially, all the ways she could mess up. She felt like the whole case rested in her hands, and given that she was in possession of the flash drive, it actually literally did.
Strangely, though, she didn’t feel on the verge of panic like she’d thought she would. Somehow, when her thoughts started to spiral and she hovered at the edge, she could remember the way Ethan had stroked her hair and caressed her neck, and she could step back from the brink.
Emily had talked often with Charlotte and Vivienne over the past few days, and was actually going through with the booking of vendors. She had confirmation from the caterer for their most expensive appetizer service. She’d hired a mixologist team to create not one, but three signature cocktails for the wedding (one for the cocktail hour after the ceremony, one for the dinner service, and a special champagne cocktail for the toasts) and a full bar of top shelf liquor for everyone who declined the specialty drinks. The flowers were decidedly out of season, grown this time of year only in a select few greenhouses, and exorbitantly expensive. There was an ice sculptor, custom, monogrammed linens, and even a landscaping crew and interior decorator to “spruce up” the outside and inside of the house prior to the actual day. Emily had done everything she could think of to drive the price of the wedding up, and even added ten percent to the final invoices, as directed by the FBI, just to make sure Gaines would need to tap into the hidden accounts.
Charlotte, meanwhile, had been dropping subtle reminders to Gaines about her mother’s tens of millions of dollars that remained just out of reach. The official notices to Vivienne stated that the bank had detected evidence of someone trying to hack in, and they were limiting the amount of money she could access while they investigated and tried to track down the culprit. Just the word of someone trying to steal money was enough to keep Gaines from trying too hard to access her accounts. Gaines, for his part, was trying to convince Vivienne to marry him immediately, in a small courthouse wedding. No fanfare like that associated with Charlotte’s, but Vivienne, in an uncharacteristic display of fortitude, refused to consider it until her daughter, her only child, was safely married and cared for. So Gaines remained on hold, and hopefully unsuspecting.
One thing that confused Emily was Vivienne, and how she could be so blind to Gaines’s seediness. While quiet and composed, Emily also got the sense that Vivienne was quite intelligent, which was why she couldn’t understand why she was with Gaines, why she couldn’t see through him when it seemed so blatant and obvious. But Emily had too many other things on her mind to be worried about Vivienne. In fact, Vivienne’s behavior just added to Emily’s conviction that marriage was a futile effort, especially if it could blind you so deeply to someone else’s negativity and could change you into someone that was just a shadow of your true self. Vivienne would just have to sort herself out later. Emily spared a passing thought to the woman and hoped that learning the truth about her fiancé wouldn’t damage her too deeply.
But right now, Emily focused on slowing her rapidly beating heart and keeping her sweaty hands dry by surreptitiously wiping them down the sides of her skirt as she walked to the doors of the West house. “House” was actually too mundane a word for the sprawling estate. While “mansion” might be stating it a little too strongly, it was closer to being a fitting description. Set on four acres of immaculately manicured lawns and gardens, the main manse was a crisp, white, Greek revival style home. Chunky columns supported arches that framed a wraparound porch that just begged for a loving couple to rock
together on the swing while sipping sweet tea and watching the sunset. The house itself was very masculine, but the look was softened with a feminine touch from the flora that surrounded the structure.
As she walked to the front door, though, the place looked like a prison to Emily. She was so nervous about the task ahead of her that her hands shook as she lifted the bronze doorknocker. Within seconds, the door opened and a neatly dressed housekeeper invited Emily in.
“Would you like me to take your handbag?” the woman asked, indicating Emily’s purse with a slight motion of her hand.
“Oh! No! I mean, no thank you. I’ll just hold onto it,” Emily replied. She would swear the woman had x-ray vision that was right then burrowing through the leather shell of her purse, past the crumpled receipts and ancient pack of gum to where the flash drive was nestled securely inside the inner pocket. When the woman ever so slightly raised an eyebrow (or was it Emily’s imagination that she was being questioned), she stammered out the first thing that came to mind.
“Oh, please…I need to keep it with me. It’s, you know, that time of month…and I need to keep…things close at hand. So, you know, I’ll just hang onto it.”
God, she was the worst spy ever.
The woman smiled gently. “Of course. Please come with me. They’re expecting you on the back veranda.”
Emily’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, feeling foolish for thinking the woman was onto her. How would she even know? Thankfully, no further conversation ensued as Emily traipsed after the housekeeper.
They passed a number of closed doors as they walked through a large living room that ended in expansive, sliding glass doors that opened onto the veranda. Outside, she saw the rest of the party seated on an outdoor patio set that looked more plush and comfortable than Emily’s indoor furniture. A pitcher of ice water sweated on a glass-topped table.
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