by Claire Adams
I sighed. I hated that I had to leave. I'd been looking forward to spending the next two days with her, sightseeing, wining and dining her all across Paris, following through on what Colonel Tanaka had told me: show her your heart and leave the rest up to her. But this was an emergency, and I had to get back immediately.
I dialed my pilot's number, and he answered with a sleepy mumble.
“G-g-good morning, sir,” he managed to get out.
“Sorry to wake you, Zach, but I’m going to need you to get out of bed, get to the airport, and get the plane ready ASAP,” I said.
“N-now?”
“Yeah, now. We have no time to lose. It's an emergency.”
There was urgency in my voice, and I could hear that it was waking him up.
“Yes, sir,” he responded, with far more readiness this time. “We'll be ready to fly as soon as possible. See you there.”
My next call was to my driver, instructing him to stop by my hotel and pick up my clothes and belongings from my room. Then, I gave him the address of my current location and told him to pick me up from this hotel after he was done.
I then googled and called up a local chauffeur company for tourists.
“BD Chauffeurs, how can I help you?”
“Hi. I'd like a private chauffeur for the next two days. Luxury vehicle, on-call 24/7.”
“Certainly, sir. We currently have a senior driver with a Mercedes S-class available if that suits you?”
“Perfect.”
I gave them Lilah's details and told them to pick her up from the hotel when she called them.
I padded into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at Lilah. I couldn't stop myself from leaning over and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead as she slept. She smiled in her sleep and then rolled onto her side. She was lost in the land of dreams. As much as I wanted to wake her, kiss her, and explain what was going on, I thought it would be best to let her sleep. I tiptoed back to the bathroom where I showered and freshened up before heading back into the bedroom where I got dressed in the previous night's clothes. I'd get into a fresh suit in the limo. It was spacious enough to get changed in.
I wrote a note for Lilah explaining the situation and giving her the details of the chauffeur company. I also told her I would have loved to have personally shown her around Paris but, because of the circumstances, she'd have to see it on her own.
I left her a company credit card and instructed her to use it to purchase a first-class ticket back home when the time came and for any incidentals and meals she might need. I also asked if she’d let me know when her flight would be set to arrive in the States so I could arrange for my driver to pick her up from the airport.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed as I was finishing up the note—my driver alerting me that he was waiting downstairs.
I gave Lilah one last kiss on her forehead, then quietly left the room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lilah
I woke up with a smile on my face and feeling . . . well . . . amazing. There was no other way to put it. The night of passion I'd shared with Asher had been mind-blowing. It had been physically exhausting and each time had been an experience but, despite this, it had recharged me and left me feeling invigorated. I was positively giddy, in fact.
I opened my eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the half-open drapes, expecting to see the glorious, sculpted form of Asher lying next to me. Anticipating yet another bout of intense lovemaking, I was left disappointed.
The other side of the vast canopy bed was empty, with only ruffled sheets and a strewn pillow to indicate that anyone had actually been there. On the floor, where our clothes had ended up in a pile, only my clothes remained.
For a few panicked moments, I had extremely urgent doubts about the reality of the whole situation. I rubbed my eyes. Had the whole thing been a dream?
I stretched, and climbed out of bed. That’s when I saw, positioned neatly on the ornate antique bedside table, a note written in Asher's untidy scrawl.
My heart sank as I read it. Asher had also left a credit card for me to use and had organized a chauffeur for me. He'd instructed me to buy a plane ticket back: first class. He'd said that all of this would be covered by him.
There I sat on the edge of the bed, alone again. Just like the morning after the last time we’d been together. Why hadn't he simply woken me up to tell me in person about this? And, why hadn't he been specific about what this supposed “emergency” was? After all, he knew I cared about the company, as well, even if I was a new member to the team, rather than the CEO.
Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful he'd left me a car and the credit card, but the whole night, between bouts of lovemaking, he'd said how much he was looking forward to seeing Paris with me. How he couldn't wait to see the museums, the galleries, the cafés, and the Eiffel Tower with me.
And yet, he had just left without a word, like a phantom in the night. Without even telling me clearly what the “emergency” was.
I fell back onto the bed. Despite the lingering ecstasy of the previous evening, I was beginning to wonder if Asher was someone I could completely trust. While a part of me wanted to give in to him and give all of me over to him, another part of me was hearing warning bells and seeing red flags waving all around.
Maybe my reaction before was right, maybe I was just another conquest. Even though he'd done all these great things for me, he was a billionaire. This weekend, this hotel, the luxury car and chauffeur he'd organized, all of those would be far beyond the means of even a moderately rich man, but for such a spectacularly wealthy man as him, such expenses amounted to little more than chump change.
He’d probably treated his models and actresses to similar luxuries before booting them to the curb and moving on to his next prize. I inhaled deeply, trying to reason with myself. I knew there was more to Asher than just that.
He'd opened up to me about his dark and tragic family secrets. Surely that wasn't something he usually did with his Hollywood starlets. If he had, there would likely be more about him in the press. There’s no way he could keep those types of secrets out of the media after a break-up if anyone knew about them.
Damn him. My mind was really in a mess with so many conflicting thoughts bouncing around it. The only thing left to do was take a trip around the city in an effort to clear my head and distract myself from all the questions. I got up, ordered some breakfast, and showered while I was waiting.
Once it arrived, I ate quickly and then called the chauffeur. There were plenty of places I wanted to see, and nothing was going to stop me from seeing them. I grabbed my purse and headed out into the bright sunlight of the Paris morning. My first stop would by my original hotel, so that I could put on a fresh outfit. My second stop: all of Paris.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Asher
I managed to sleep well on the flight home, which was fortunate because I'd hardly had any chance to sleep at the hotel. Not that I was complaining—not in the least. I’d give up sleep for a night with Lilah any time, even if it meant being woken up at 4:00 and having to leave immediately.
One of the perks of having my own jet was having a bed on it as well. So, on the flight, I'd simply laid down and fallen asleep almost as soon as my head had hit the pillow. So I was refreshed and energized when we touched down, especially after a hearty, wholesome breakfast.
I called Alan Weiss, my head of security, and told him I'd arrived the moment I could use my phone. ALfred was waiting to pick me up in the Maserati, but when I got to the car, I took the wheel.
“I need to get to the building fast. So, I'm going to drive,” I informed him.
I raced through the streets, pushing the car hard, and scaring Alfred in the process, but I got to my building in record time. Alan was there waiting for me, a stern expression on his face, but that was nothing unusual. He always had a rather serious nature. He did seem to be in a better mood than when I'd spoken to him on the phone
in Paris, though.
“Would you like the good news first or the bad news, sir?”
I scratched at my chin. “Bad news.”
“Most of the computers are trashed. The intruder did his best to hack into your system and, when he couldn't, he simply destroyed the hard drives instead.”
“Wait, he couldn't get in?”
“That's the good news, sir. Your data is safe.”
I exhaled, a huge wave of relief washing over me. I knew I'd done the right thing by hiring the most expensive—and best—data encryption company in the country. It had turned out to be money well spent.
“Yeah, the perp was obviously an expert. According to the guys in tech, he hacked pretty deep into the system, but still couldn't get past the final security features protecting the highly sensitive data. So, I guess he just got pissed and decided to destroy the computers instead.”
“That doesn't matter, computers can be replaced, and we've got backup of all of our data. Was anything else stolen?”
“Nothing that we can tell, sir. It appears they were only after data.”
I nodded. “Any leads in the investigation?”
“Nothing concrete yet,” Alan responded.
“I have an idea who's behind this. Unfortunately, I have no way to prove it unless you can bring me something.”
“Let me guess. Brendan Savage?”
As soon as I heard the name, a shudder of disgust and anger rippled through me. Brendan Savage was my fiercest competitor. Over the course of the last decade his firm, Savage Inc., had come perilously close to toppling mine from the leading spot.
If he was behind this break in, as I suspected, this wouldn't have been the first time he'd tried to get ahead of me using less than legal means. He wanted that top spot more than anything and was prepared to do whatever it would take to get there—legal or not.
Savage was charming, suave, sophisticated, and narcissistic. He also lacked even a shred of conscience. In other words, he was the perfect psychopath, granted (as far as I knew, anyway) his psychopathy hadn't extended as far as actually murdering anyone. Yet.
Despite having the best investigators on the case, I suspected it would be a futile exercise to try to pin it on him. He was far too intelligent and cunning to leave a trail connecting this crime to himself or his company. Still, I knew he was behind it. Call it a gut feeling.
“What would you have us do now?” Alan asked.
“There isn't much we can do. We just have to let the PI do his job and see if he comes up with anything. Meanwhile, I think it's time for a security upgrade.”
“I was thinking so, too, sir.”
“Use whatever funds you need, Alan. Make this place impenetrable. I don't want this happening again.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Excellent. Now, I'll have to make sure all of our employees know that they've got an unexpected day off on Monday. And then, I'll have to order a whole new set of computers and arrange for those to be brought in and set up on Monday.”
“It's gonna cost a packet, huh?”
I sighed. “Yeah. But it's going to cost way more in terms of lost productivity. Still, there's nothing else we can do, really.”
“All right, sir. I'll go meet up with the PI, and we'll report back to you if we discover anything.”
“Thanks, Alan,” I replied. “I appreciate all your hard work.”
“No problem, sir.”
I watched as he hurried off and, despite the severity of the current situation, I couldn't help but think of Lilah. I checked my phone, hoping for some message from her. The night we'd spent together had been incredible. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so passionate, so intense, so in tune with anyone. She'd awoken something within me—something glorious, joyous, and full of life and energy.
I calculated the time difference in my head. It would be late in the day in Paris, surely she would have been up and about. I wondered why she hadn’t messaged me. Was she still concerned that romantic feelings between her and I would get in the way of our working relationship? That she wouldn’t be able to get the most out of her career if she got involved with me?
They were valid concerns considering that she was a very driven, ambitious woman, who was focused on her career. But still, what was happening between us didn't feel like a fling, not to me at least. It felt . . . real.
With everything that had just happened, I had enough on my plate. The last thing I needed was to play cat and mouse. So, I typed out a message to her.
Hi, Lilah. I trust you got the note I left in the hotel room. I'm sure you must be cruising around Paris by now, taking in all the sights and sounds and tastes . . . everything awesome about that wonderful city.
I don't know if you've booked your ticket back yet, but no need to be in a hurry. There's been a situation at the office and all the computers are out. It's going to take at least a day to get new ones installed and ready for Tuesday morning.
Anyway, I was just thinking about you. Last night was amazing, and I can't get you off my mind. I really wish I'd been able to stay and enjoy Paris with you, but this was a genuine emergency—I really had to get back. Looking forward to seeing you when you return, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the trip.
I hit send, then stood around waiting to see that the message had been read. For every second that I stood waiting, it seemed time was dragging more and more slowly. Eventually, the delivery showed that she'd seen the message and was typing a response.
I waited anxiously.
The message came through after a few seconds. I read it with eager eyes.
Hi, Asher. Thanks so much for organizing the driver and car. I've been all over Paris to a bunch of museums, cafés, and more. I'll sort out the flight later tonight. Thanks again, see you at the office on Tuesday.
I frowned. Her tone almost seemed cold. I knew it could sometimes be tough to decipher tones from text messages, but she hadn't mentioned anything about the night we'd spent together or said anything that indicated she was thinking about me. It was just a short, matter-of-fact message, something that one might write to a friend, perhaps.
I started typing out a reply, but then stopped. I shook my head and trudged over to the car, where Alfred was waiting for me.
“Are you going to drive again, sir?” he asked.
“Not now. I'm . . . I'm not in the mood.”
“Very well. Where shall I take you, sir?”
“Home.”
“Of course,” Alfred reached to open my door.
I paused. “Actually, no, not home. I don't want to go back home and mope. Let me call up a friend quickly.”
I whizzed through my contacts on my phone, found Bryce’s number, and dialed.
“Bryce speaking, what can I do ya for?”
The moment I heard the voice of my personal trainer, my resolve was set. The ex-marine would surely be up for just the sort of fix I needed at the moment to help relieve me of the frustration of the break-in and Lilah's cold attitude.
“Hey, Bryce. It's Asher.”
“I thought you were in France, son?!”
“Just got back. There was an emergency at the office.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, but don't worry about that. I was just wondering, you up for heading out to the shooting range?”
I heard him chuckle slowly on the other side of the line. “You got some angst you wanna get out?”
“I do.”
“I'll bring the automatic rifles.”
“Great. I’ll be there in 45.”
“See you there, soldier! Lock and load!”
“See you there, Bryce.”
I turned to Alfred. “You heard that, right? Take me to the hills.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lilah
I had arrived back in the States in the late afternoon. I had never flown first class before and it had been quite an experience. After that level of service, respect, and luxury, I definitely wanted to do it agai
n. The next time, however, I would foot the bill for it myself. I didn't want anyone paying my way. Since I had the rare luxury of free time while all the new computers were set up at the office and all the data restored from the cloud backup, I figured I should see Ed since I hadn't seen him for nearly two weeks. Maybe he could help me decipher all the mixed emotions I was dealing with.
My mind was like a revolving door, and Asher was stuck in it going around and around. He had messaged me on Sunday, and he'd seemed to try to express what came across as genuine feelings of affection for me—but part of me just couldn't shake the suspicion that I might be yet another notch on the bedpost.
I kept thinking back to how hard I'd once fallen for Jacob. Or rather, how hard I'd let myself fall for another man. Because that was it, wasn't it?
Jacob hadn't forced me to fall in love with him. Sure he'd been charming, good looking, and suave. He'd certainly made it easy to fall in love with him. But looking back, I also remembered there was a time when I questioned him. There was a tiny gut feeling that I’d ignored. I distinctly remember the moment where I'd thought to myself, You're falling for this guy. Are you sure this is a wise thing to do?
I gave in to it then. I ignored my gut feeling, abandoned my logic, and gave myself—heart and soul—to this man who'd seemed perfect in most every way.
I'd blinded myself to reality, to his faults, to all the blaring red flags that anyone else would have seen. In truth, some of my friends did see them. I just rationalized them.
What did it leave me with? Heartbreak—a month before our wedding.
I hadn't thought I'd ever even consider opening myself up to another man again, trusting again, or loving again. All of my faith in love had been shattered, crushed beneath the heels of an empty soul who took my heart and kicked it out into the street, then stomped all over it before walking off laughing.
I shook my head. I had to get my mind off things of the past.
I took out my phone, pulled up Eddie's name in my contacts, and gave him a call.
“Hey, Eddie.”