The Engagement Plot

by Phillips, Krista;

  It was time.

  She lifted her chin and hugged the folder close to her chest.

  She could do this. She owed Will this much at least. Regardless of everything that had happened over the last year, she’d not only allowed her own life to go into a tailspin but had also brought him down with her.

  Time to right the wrong so she could move on.

  A thin brunette with long hair and funky red glasses sat at the large round desk, her eyes on the computer. She smiled, but her attention never left the screen. “May I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Doug Perry, please.”

  The receptionist’s smile dimmed as she finally looked up. Then she blinked as Hanna’s identity dawned on her. “Is he, uh, expecting you?”

  “No, but I’m sure he’ll want to see me. Please tell him Hanna Knight is here to speak with him.”

  The receptionist grabbed the phone and pressed a few buttons. “Yes, I have, uh, Hanna Knight to see Mr. Perry.”

  Hanna leaned over the desk, her confidence building. “Please tell him it’s urgent and it would be regrettable if he didn’t have time.”

  The woman, Cheri, if she remembered Will and Emma’s advice correctly, repeated Hanna’s words.

  A moment later, she hung up the phone. “His assistant will be out to take you back shortly. You may have a seat while you wait.”

  Hanna turned toward one of the hideous-looking blobs of plastic, but the door to the right opened before she could sit.

  A pert blond in a skirt a few inches too short for a place of business, in Hanna’s opinion, motioned her to follow. “Ms. Knight, this way please.”

  She followed the woman. As she walked, she felt eyes from the cubicles she passed staring at her, but she lifted her chin and kept her focus on the corner office approaching.

  Will’s former office.

  She wished she would have had a chance to see him in it.

  But that ship had sunk last week, her big mouth sending it to the bottom of the ocean as sure as the Titanic’s glacier disaster.

  Approaching the open door, she took a deep breath, adjusted the bottom of her blouse, and threw up a quick prayer. God, give me courage…and help me not to make it worse.

  The perky blond entered first and announced Hanna’s arrival, gesturing her to follow.

  Doug sat in the large black chair, elbows on the armrests, hands clasped between him. His face was set in that pompous look that made her want to plant her fist against his overly large nose.

  While she’d feel so much better, it probably wouldn’t help Will.

  “Well, if it isn’t Hanna Knight. To what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice reeked of condescension as he nodded toward the chair across from his desk.

  Her back straight, she walked to the chair and sat, crossing her feet at the ankles. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I know you’re busy now, being the head honcho and all.” Shoot. She’d meant to try and keep sarcasm out of her voice.

  Yeah, failed at that royally.

  Doug’s eyes narrowed, his look going from cocky to guarded. “What do you want, Hanna?”

  Oh, Lord, this is it. Help me, please. “It isn’t so much what I want as what I think you’re going to want.”

  His bushy eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”

  She lifted the vanilla-colored folder for him to see. “Do you remember bringing me the latest sales projections at William’s condo?”

  His face eased, and he sat back. “I have no recollection of doing any such thing. I may have stopped by to check on you, but that was it. I do have to say, though, I wasn’t expecting you to give your own interview like you did. Very vindictive. I was impressed.”

  Ah. That he would lie about showing up was a good sign.

  She opened the folder and withdrew the lone piece of paper. Her next words were so important. She was determined not to lie, but at the same time, he couldn’t know she was here on William’s behalf. He had to think it was for herself. And, to a point, it was. “Interesting that you don’t recall showing me those papers, especially since you left one page behind.”

  His demeanor changed slightly, as if he didn’t want her to know her effect. But his eyes betrayed the fear that she was certain he felt. “Get to your point, Hanna.”

  She scooted up in her seat. “I lost my job and my dignity, and I’m fairly certain, given time, I could prove you were the main culprit behind it all. I’ve done a bit of digging myself, and I think you’ve been a busy man, Doug. Two CEOs accused of fraud, while the CFO somehow gets off squeaky clean? Yeah, something smells fishy. And now I have a lovely piece of paper that, if I were a betting woman, shows a much more accurate representation of what the sales numbers should have been this last quarter—that is, until you did whatever fancy footwork you do and rigged them to look bad.”

  “You have no proof of that. Now, I have a meeting in—”

  She stood and shot him a smile. “It was nice meeting with you. I have a meeting to get to myself. Sam Deddrick was so kind to be able to fit me in later this afternoon.”

  Doug stood as well, his face turning twelve shades of red. “Give me that piece of paper.”

  “What? I thought you said it meant nothing. Or did I hit a nerve? Maybe my guess wasn’t too far off, hm?”

  Dark eyes stared at her in silence. For a moment, Hanna second-guessed herself. If this guy really was the fraud Harrison thought he was, then—what lengths would he go to in order to shut her up?

  She couldn’t go back now, though. The framework was already in place. Now she just needed to add a bit of cheese to the trap and let the rat meet his demise. “I might, however, be convinced to cancel my appointment, accidentally shred this little piece of paper, and go back and hibernate in Minnesota.”

  The rat sat back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. “So you’re blackmailing me.”

  “Call it whatever you want. My life has been turned upside down because of what you did. William made his own bed and can lie in it. But you both drug me into this, and I want to be compensated. William is now unemployed, so I figure you’re going to have to be the one to pony up.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I keep my appointment with Sam. And I’ve gotten to know a few reporters pretty well. I’m sure they’d love this piece of juicy information, as well.”

  He paused only a second. “How much?”

  They’d talked long and hard about what amount she should name. Too low and he’d know her case was weak. Too high and he would think of another way to hide the problem. It wasn’t until this moment, seeing the evil in his eyes, that she became aware of just what other “ways” Harrison had been referring to. “One hundred grand. Equal to about three years of my salary as a teacher. I think it’s more than fair.”

  Haughty laughter escaped his lips. “You think I’m just going to hand over that kind of cash? You’re out of your mind. Anyone would be able to tell it was a payoff. I might not be squeaky clean, as you are aware of, but I hide my trails well.”

  Score. His first admittance of guilt. But she needed more. She wiggled the folder in her hand. “Not well enough, evidently. Surely you can explain it off as feeling like you need to make restitution for what your ‘friend’ had done. In fact, if someone does get wind of it, they’ll probably see you as a kind and gentle benefactor who wants to help a poor teacher who has been the victim of big bad corporate America. The public would love it.” She tried not to laugh hysterically as the words flowed from her mouth.

  His eyes probed her face, as if trying to find any other option. A moment later, he opened his desk drawer and reached inside.

  Air caught in her lungs. Did he have a gun in there? Surely he wouldn’t—

  But he pulled out a small rectangular black object.

  His checkbook. With a flourish of handwriting, he scribbled her name and the obscene amount on the check, ripped it off, and slid it across the desk. “I’d like the paper in return please.�
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  She pushed the folder across the desk as she accepted the check. He fingered the piece of paper inside then eyed her. “I’m not stupid enough to believe that you brought the original with you. But I trust that you realize blackmailing is also a federal offense, so at this point, if I go down, I’ll be taking you with me. In fact, I just might show them a bit of proof of my own that you’ve been helping me frame Will.”

  The microphone scratched against her breast. She wished she could move it up a notch to ensure they were getting all of this. “You would have no proof of that, and you know it.”

  “Oh, a little security video of you and I entering your hotel room would probably be a great starting point.”

  “That was your doing and not mine, and you know it.”

  “Of course, sweet one. But no one else will know it, and that’s what matters. You see, that’s the crux of it all. Reality is twistable.”

  She slipped the check into the side pocket of her purse. “Like you twisted the truth with Greg and William?”

  “Greg? You know nothing about that.”

  “No, but I’m smart enough to smell a rotten fish when it’s hiding in front of me. It doesn’t matter anyway, right? Being that reality is completely twistable.”

  “Greg was an idiot. Any shrewd businessman would have caught on to what I was doing a long time before the SEC did.”

  “So because he was too stupid to catch on to you, it made it all right for you to steal money from the company and frame him?”

  Pushing his chair back, Doug stood and stalked over to her. She stepped back until her body met the wall and couldn’t go any farther.

  Blood pounded in her ears, and her lungs refused to exhale as his face moved toward her.

  Hands pinning both of her arms to the wall, he pushed his forehead against hers. “If you ever, and I mean ever, try to double-cross me, I swear I’ll kill you, Hanna. Do you understand me?”

  She flinched at both his words and the hot breath that blew in her face. “Yes. Of course.”

  He inched back and examined her face. For a moment, she feared he would kiss her. As his mouth moved toward her, his eyes full of lust and greed, the door to the office opened.

  He swore then let her go.

  A second later, shouts filled the room as FBI agents swarmed, guns drawn.

  Hanna stood in her spot, her whole body trembling. A man wearing a black jacket with white FBI lettering came over to her and grabbed her by the arm. “Come with me.”

  He was none too gentle, but he was getting her out of this room, and he had a gun.

  She stumbled after him with only a brief look behind her at Doug, whose face was smothered into the carpet, his hands in cuffs.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Will sipped his coffee and unfolded the Wall Street Journal onto the kitchen counter.

  A picture of Doug—his suit disheveled and his face red with anger, being stuffed into a police car—along with the Foster and Jones logo were supersized across the front page.

  They’d officially graduated from annoying tabloid press and social media trends to the WSJ.

  Footsteps sounded behind him. “Well, at least you’re off the hook, right?”

  He turned to see his dad pulling his rolling suitcase behind him. “I’m unemployed but not in jail. I think I’ll choose to be thankful for that.”

  Harrison clapped him on the shoulder. “Very wise, son. Very wise. Do you know what your plans will be?”

  That was the question of the day. His realtor had called thirty minutes ago. He already had three offers on the condo, all well over asking price.

  He’d ignored all other phone calls, as most of them would be reporters wanting a statement.

  “Honestly? I’d love to change my name and go back to being a lowly research engineer. As much as I loved working my way up in management, I kinda miss being in the thick of things. Pathetic, huh?”

  Setting his bag upright, his dad took the barstool next to him. “I owe you an apology, William.”

  His dad? Apologizing for something? Admitting error? That would be a first. Instead of making a comment, William just looked at him, eyebrows raised.

  “I’ve had a lot of expectations for you throughout your life, son. Maybe too many. I yelled whenever you made what I thought was a mistake, because I knew you could do better.”

  “You were right, most of the time.”

  “Not always. And I think somewhere along the line I neglected to remind you how much I loved you and how proud I am of you.” Will squirmed in his seat, his hands clutching the newspaper in front of him. A heart-to-heart talk with his dad, opening old wounds, was not what he needed today. “It’s fine, Dad.”

  “No, no it’s not. When we lost Claire, I—I was devastated. But watching you turn your back on God was almost worse. I know I’ll see my daughter again someday, but to see my son turning away from the only thing I knew could heal his hurting soul…William, it tore me in two. But I was grieving, too, and instead of loving you, I focused on what I thought I could change. I tried to discipline you to Jesus. I doubt any parent has actually succeeded with that method.”

  A lump formed in Will’s throat.

  He was a grown man. Midthirties. Already hit the pinnacle of his career. He would not sit here and break down in front of his father. “Well, I’m no worse for it, so don’t worry about it.”

  “I disagree. You’re lost, William. And I’m not talking about just your career. On top of it all, you just let the best thing that ever happened to you fly back to Minnesota alone.”

  Hanna’s flight had left that morning. He hadn’t even bothered to see her off. That chapter of his life was over and needed to be left far in the past. “Hanna’s better off in Minnesota.”

  Which was true. He had nothing to offer her, and she—she’d paid her penance for ruining his career by helping bring Doug to justice. They had no further reason to communicate.

  The memory of her smile invaded his thoughts. Her blond hair brushing her shoulders, her laugh that made him want to kiss that little spot on her neck to make her giggle more—

  He shook his head.

  No. He needed to get her out of his head and move on. That was all. She was like a drug to him, intoxicating his soul to the point he couldn’t see or think straight.

  “Is she?”

  “Of course. Why are you and Mom so hip on getting us back together, anyway?”

  Harrison scooted off the stool and collected his suitcase. “Maybe it was a bit of wishful thinking. But seeing you in love with a woman who’s in love with Jesus, it gave us hope. That God had finally brought someone who could convince you to let down that wall of steel you’d built around your heart. But, regardless, we want you to know we love you, William. That’s never changed since the moment you were born.” He glanced at his watch. “My flight leaves in a few hours, and I still have to return my rental car. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

  Will nodded, no fitting words readily coming to mind. Instead, he stood and clapped his dad into a hug.

  For a brief second, he was fifteen again, trying to be tough as he hugged his dad at Claire’s funeral.

  After a moment, he lowered his arms and stepped back. “Have a safe flight, Dad.” Nice, safe, emotionless words.

  Harrison smiled. “Thanks.” He walked toward the door and opened it.

  “Dad?”

  He turned and looked back.

  “Thanks for coming out here to help. I’d probably be in jail or something if you hadn’t shown up.”

  “That’s what dads and lawyers are for.”

  With that he let himself out of the condo.

  Will stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked toward the wall of windows that overlooked the city.

  The faces of two females filled his mind.

  A gorgeous blond who’d probably already landed in Duluth, maybe even back in Embarrass by now.

  And a twelve-year-old pixie-faced girl, cheeks sunken in from
illness but a sparkle in her eyes even a weak heart couldn’t snuff out.

  He rested his forehead against the glass.

  What was he doing? Life seemed so—pointless.

  A verse in the Bible, a book he’d neglected for almost twenty years, flitted in his memory. “Everything is meaningless.” So completely meaningless.

  How appropriate.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, he clicked until Hanna’s contact information came up.

  Her small picture stared at him. It was one he’d snapped awhile ago. Her hair was in two braids, her smile turned up in an impish grin. It made her look like a teenager rather than an accomplished teacher in her late twenties.

  His finger itched to tap her phone number.

  Would it hurt to see how she was doing?

  Meaningless.

  Well, if all was meaningless, he might as well satisfy his curiosity. He tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear.

  His heart thudded against his ribs as it rang.

  The familiar female voice answered. “Hello?”

  Words jumbled in his mouth. “I, uh, just wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”

  Silence met him. Had she hung up? He moved the phone from his ear and checked. Nope. “Hanna?”

  She cleared her throat. “Uh, sorry. Yes. I just got home a few minutes ago.”

  He walked over to the couch and fell onto the cushions. Memories of sitting on the couch beside her at the little farmhouse rushed to mind. The soft old couch with plaid fabric that showed its age but was comfortable.

  Much different than the thick, unforgiving leather number he now stretched out on. “Well, that’s good. Your dad doing okay?”

  “He’s fine.”

  He should probably just say good-bye and hang up now, but her voice was like a bucket of water being dumped over his dry, thirsty heart. “Weather calmed down there?”

  “Yeah. Most of the snow melted in last week’s warm snap, but Dad says they’re calling for more this weekend.”

  He smiled. “What’s a warm snap for March in Minnesota?”

  “It got up to thirty-five a few days. People were walking around without jackets and everything.”