Vanessa watched as Jack smiled down at Andie with ease. When she knew him, it had seemed so hard to get him to smile. But that was then and this was now. She wouldn’t think about that just yet.
“I agree,” he told her, and then caught the eyes of one of the hosts before giving the man his infamous Phillip nod, indicating that he and his party were ready to sit down.
“You look cold, Andrea,” Vanessa noted as the three were escorted to a very secluded table in the back. Her eyes were scanning Andie as a whole, sizing up competition—not that this woman was competition, of course. No, that would be silly.
“Please,” Andie said, giving her a small smile. “Call me Andie.” She glanced down at her attire before shrugging sheepishly. “Yeah, I got caught in the rain and didn’t have time to run home and change. I don’t really mind though. I love walking in the rain.”
“If my memory serves me right, you also love dancing in it too,” Jack teased, pulling out a chair and offering it to Andie. He slid his jacket off, and before she could protest, slipped it snugly around her shoulders. She smiled at him, their eyes conversing with each other silently, relaying inside jokes and secrets that Vanessa was clearly not a part of.
“So, Vanessa,” Andie said, scooting her chair in a bit before giving her full attention to the woman sitting across from her. “I wanted to thank you personally for taking time out of your schedule to meet with us to discuss investment opportunities with—”
“Oh, Andie,” Vanessa interrupted as the host began pouring wine for both Jack and Vanessa while Andie got sparkling cider. That was pretty embarrassing, if she was being honest. “Jack and I have known each other for a long time. We actually went to college together.”
“Oh?” Andie asked, her brow perking. She was still smiling, but it had lost some of its natural sparkle. “Did you guys have the same classes or something?” As she asked this particular question, she slid her fingers around her wine glass and brought it to her lips.
“We were actually together,” Vanessa said, her blue eyes sparkling darkly. “He was my boyfriend.”
Andie nearly choked on her sip of sparkling cider.
“I’m sorry,” she said, once she had gained control of her breathing. She blinked a couple of times before staring at the woman across from her. “I don’t think I heard you correctly. What did you say?” Her brow perked up, trying her absolute best to regain her patience and politesse, but the smirk that was on the woman’s lips was making it very hard.
“Oh, we dated,” Vanessa said nonchalantly, as though she didn’t notice how disturbed Andie was by this confession. But her crisp, blue eyes held a dark, mischievous gleam that revealed she knew exactly how Andie was feeling, and she loved every moment of the younger woman’s distress. “For about a year, I think.” She glanced over at Jack, her brow furrowed, feigning contemplation.
Jack looked at Vanessa with a pointed stare, arching a brow as though he was telling her he was finding her antics none too amusing. Vanessa was unperturbed by his stare and just perked her brow up innocently as she slid her knuckles delicately underneath her chin and rested her elbow on the tabletop. He suppressed an impatient sigh and glanced over at Andie who, God love her, was trying to keep a look of neutrality. His eyes lit up as they met her profile, and he reached over and placed his large hand over her small one, squeezing it in the hope to reassure her. “It was so long ago,” he finally said, glancing over at Vanessa before returning his gaze on her. “I don’t really remember.”
Vanessa, for a fraction of a second, let a scowl touch her features before quickly slipping back into her beautiful mask of subtle mischief. She clenched her teeth for a moment, before letting a low chuckle escape from her bow-shaped lips. “He is quite the charmer, isn’t he?” she asked Andie in her smooth, velvet voice.
Andie felt the corners of her lips tug up in amusement. Her eyes grazed over the simplicities of Jack’s face and her smile deepened. Vanessa felt her insides churn with disgust. She knew how annoying couples in love could be, but when one of them happened to be her ex-boyfriend, her potent jealousy merged with that disgust, creating an intangible amount of anger that started to boil deep within her. However, Vanessa was superb at hiding her feelings, pushing them to the corners of her mind.
“He is quite…something,” Andie allowed, causing Jack to chuckle.
At that moment, a waiter stopped by and after reciting the specials, stood patiently, waiting for everybody to place their order. Waiters who worked at the Five Crowns were required to memorize their table’s order down to the last detail, believing that scrawling anything was beneath them and classless. Vanessa order a grilled salmon, Jack ordered prime rib, and Andie ordered the pasta.
“I’m so jealous, Andrea,” Vanessa said as soon as the waiter had disappeared into the dim room. “Pasta is filled with carbs! I’d be so afraid of putting on weight that I can’t help but stay away from that stuff.”
“Excuse me?” Andie asked flatly.
“You know what, Vanessa,” Jack said, quickly intervening between the two. “Why don’t we talk about your potential investment in Shepherd’s Peak, hmm?”
“Of course,” Vanessa said, giving him a polite smile. When she met his eyes, however, there was a dangerous warning deeply embedded in his jade green irises. “How silly of me to get off track. All right.” The woman sat up straighter, her confidence back up once again. Business was her forte, and whenever she spoke about it, she captivated her audience. She had no doubt that she would do the same now. “Now Jack, you know my father has always had a soft spot for you. He really liked you, admired you, especially knowing that once you graduated college, you inherited your father’s company, and turned it from waning to thriving. Though the two of you parted ways, he’s always kept an eye on you and always remarked how proud he was of you. You know, you were like the son he never had.”
“Yes, Vanessa,” Jack said. He was feeling slightly uncomfortable of the unnecessary praise Vanessa was relaying to him. “Can we please get on with it?”
“He doesn’t handle praise very well, does he?” Vanessa asked Andie, her face still the definition of innocence.
Andie had somehow found some sort of predatory confidence, and she studied the woman in front of her quite coolly. “I suppose it depends on who is giving him the praise,” she said. Jack glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and hid an amused smile. She looked sexy when she was attempting to hide her jealousy.
“Yes,” Vanessa said, not expecting that reaction from the other woman. “Well, anyway, as you know, I graduated from Stanford with honors and started working for my father’s company, where I am now Vice President.”
“Congratulations,” Jack offered her. “I remember how much you wanted that.”
Vanessa was beaming inside, and her dark eyes lighted at his praise. However, instead of speaking, she nodded. “Yes, well,” she continued. “My father heard through the grapevine that you were opening your own animal shelter. As you know, Jack, my father is incredibly philanthropic, especially when it comes to any nonprofit involving animals. He wanted me to schedule this meeting with you to discuss possible donations to this shelter.”
“Let me interrupt you right there,” Jack said, and though he was smiling, Andie knew that that particular grin was his ‘forced politeness with a necessity to correct grin.’ “Shepherd’s Peak is not my shelter. I bought it for Andie. She’s the one who will be opening it, running it, and managing it.”
“Be that as it may,” Vanessa said, narrowing her blue eyes into Jack’s. “You’re now looking for donations to get what you need for this effort. Because of the previous good standing you shared with my father, I suggested our company look into what you’re offering. As the Vice President, I will represent my father’s company, and if we do choose to invest, your dealings will be directly with me. No offense to your girlfriend, but it’s your name that will attract donors, not hers. As such, it is you I will be speaking with.”
&n
bsp; Andie felt her body tense at Vanessa’s last sentence. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something inside of her didn’t trust this woman. At first, Andie had figured Vanessa wanted to interact with Jack strictly on professional terms, throwing some teasing jokes her way. She could deal with that. But there was something that lay closer to the heart of the issue, maybe some selfish intentions concealed by the seeming innocence of the investment. How did her father even hear about the shelter, anyway? Wasn’t it rather convenient that a potential donor happened to be one of Jack’s exes? However, she also knew that she needed this. If she wanted to be taken seriously as a businesswoman, she had to accept that not everything would go her way and there would be people she really didn’t want to deal with. The way she handled it would build her reputation. So, instead of allowing anyone—including Jack—to notice her uncertainty, to notice her doubt, her worry, and especially her possessiveness over her boyfriend, she painted a mask of contentment on her face.
“And what can we expect from your company?” Jack asked, his thumb tracing mindless patterns on the surface of Andie’s hand. It didn’t seem he was even aware that he was doing it.
“Well, we’re incredibly invested in the promoting of a company,” Vanessa replied. “We feel that if a company is highly promoted with hot, qualified sponsors, people are going to want to buy that company’s products. We have parties scheduled for the next month with different themes, plus an A-list guest lists. Everybody wants to get in, but nobody can. Because the parties will be exclusive, everyone will want to get in.”
“Wait, may I ask a question?” Andie interrupted, her brow furrowed by her confusion. It was obvious Vanessa was displeased at the interruption, but she nodded curtly. “Shouldn’t we make the parties more accessible to the public? I mean, then the public will feel that the company’s paying closer attention to them, and if they feel taken care of, wouldn’t they want to buy those products because of the developed trust?”
“I appreciate your suggestion, Andrea,” Vanessa said. Her tone was crisp and cold, but any criticism was skillfully kept out of it. “But this is serious. People buy things because they are sponsored by certain celebrities—the celebrities people want to be. If Shepherd’s Peak had Gerard Butler as their spokesperson, men and women are going to buy the animals from Gerard Butler’s shelter. However,” Vanessa said, and here, her lips curled up dangerously, “I agree with you to a point. Accessibility is always helpful. Since Jack Phillip supports every facet of his company, he should definitely be at every event. However, accessibility is limited when everyone knows he’s attached to someone. Women want to buy products from a wealthy, single, sexy man in hopes of getting a chance with him. If they know he’s attached, they may not buy from him.”
“Are you asking us to…break up?” Andie asked, her face now contorted into genuine confusion tainted with obvious anger.
“Absolutely not,” Jack said firmly, his eyes narrowed on Vanessa’s.
“Not really,” Vanessa explained. “But maybe you could make the public believe you guys were on some sort of outs. We could paint Jack as this loveable, sweet victim, and—”
“Absolutely not,” Jack said once again, not liking any minute of it.
“Are you insane?” Andie asked. “We’re trying to find animals a home.”
“Listen, you want to know how to increase capital and gain investments?” Vanessa asked. “This is the way. It’s up to you.” She shot a pointed look at Jack just as the waiter came back with three steaming hot plates of food.
Keirah
Stewart returned to the mansion just after Kyle left, the white van full of ammunition. Donald was still sprawled out on the couch, completely focused on the game show that seemed to be a part of some kind of marathon going on.
Keirah was upstairs in the bathroom connected to the bedroom she had shared with Noir only a few weeks ago. Tonight would be her big debut as an independent criminal. This time, it wasn’t like she was going to walk into a bank with her mouth hanging open, unsure of what to do. This time, it was she who had a plan. This time, she would be the one to rescue Noir.
And by doing this, she would sever the last tie she had to the city of Onyx. Commissioner Jarrett would surely recognize her face, and as a result, he would know she chose to be with Noir. Keirah wanted him to know that, at least for his sake. This way, Noir would have no reason to kill him, not if the commissioner was actively seeking Noir and Bombshell out as some sort of partners in crime. Jarrett wouldn’t be able to make any excuses for her, and dammit, she didn’t want him to.
Keirah was her own criminal. She had a costume, her own identity. But she was also the yin to Noir’s yang. He was Noir and she was his Bombshell. They were criminal royalty when they were together.
Noir had seen her as more than a piece of meat. Whether he would admit it or not, he trusted her, or she wouldn’t be privy to the numerous plans he came up with, wouldn’t be allowed to accompany him while he was committing a crime. She realized he'd wanted to break her slowly, to make her completely his. What he didn’t seem to understand was that she already was his, wholly, completely, and in every way. And to prove her loyalty—her love—for the man, she would break him out of Underwood Mental Institution.
When she was ready, every chestnut strand in place, her makeup perfected to a ‘T,’ she headed out of the bathroom and down the stairs. Stewart and Donald were waiting by the door for Keirah’s arrival, and it was hard for them not to stare at her. She looked so different as Bombshell; but then again, she was supposed to.
“Kyle’s already down at the asylum,” Stewart informed her. “There’s a few more security guards driving around on golf carts around the parking lot, but he’s not sure how security has changed inside the building.”
“When do you think he’ll be ready?” Keirah asked him, her tone no-nonsense and firm. She didn’t want these guys to take advantage of her even though she knew they thought this whole plan was set up for failure. That was okay. She would show them. She would show everyone just what Keirah Shepherd—Bombshell—was capable of.
“Another fifteen minutes, maybe less,” Stewart replied. “He told me everything was pretty much ready to go.”
Keirah nodded. “Great,” she murmured, and glanced over at Donald. “And you? You know what you’re doing, right?”
Donald rolled his eyes, causing Keirah to purse her lips together in order to control the thousands of retorts that jumped to the tip of her tongue. “Of course I know what I’m doing,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world and he couldn’t believe she was asking him such a thing. “I’m the driver, the getaway car, the lookout.”
She glanced over at Stewart. “And I help the lookout on the other side of the building,” he replied automatically.
“Good,” she replied when she was satisfied. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the main hall. A smile touched her lips and for the first time that day, both Stewart and Donald realized that Keirah herself could be incredibly deadly. Even more so because nobody expected such a thing from someone who looked as sweet as she did, despite the ‘J’ carved into her face. “Let’s go.”
The drive to Underwood Mental Institution was only fifteen minutes, and Keirah firmly told Donald not to go any faster than the speed limit. She didn’t want to attract attention to herself because if that had happened, Noir’s rescue attempt would be in vain.
When they reached the asylum, they were stopped by one of the security guards. Keirah, shrouded in darkness and therefore somewhat indiscernible, reached over Donald and handed him her identification.
“I got called in from a masquerade party,” she said. “I heard there’s someone important here and a cell needs to be cleaned out immediately.”
The security guard still looked unsure, but decided to allow it. The young woman had identification.
“These guys don’t go in,” he told her firmly.
She gave him a dazzling smile. “Wouldn�
�t dream of it,” she assured him, and Keirah instructed Donald where to park so the car wouldn’t be suspicious and her henchmen wouldn’t be questioned.
Before she headed for the building, she grabbed two of the Glocks and strapped one to each of her legs so that she would be armed if necessary. “All right,” Keirah said when she was finished, “I think I know where they’re holding him. If Underwood Mental Institution is anything, it’s predictable. Any high profile case they keep on the fourth floor, despite Noir escaping from the very floor a couple of weeks ago.” She gestured at Donald. “Here. Give me the keys. This way, if any of you decide to ditch us, you can’t take the car and have to take your chances on foot.”
The sour look on Donald’s face told Keirah that escape was just what he had been thinking about.
“Okay,” she said, nodding once. “I’ll be back in hopefully fifteen minutes. But who knows?” She turned then and headed to the back door entrance, the door Noir had escaped through with her by his side.
She walked over to the key pad, her identification card in her hand, and prayed with all her might that they hadn’t taken her out of the system. Keirah swiped her card and entered her seven-digit password. A green light lit up and she felt herself release a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. As quietly as she could, she slipped through the door and closed it behind her.
Almost immediately her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she felt her feet leading her up the stairs until she reached the fourth floor of the building. Keirah’s heart was hammering thoroughly in her chest, and surprisingly, she had yet to get caught. Whatever security had been amped up was not anywhere near here.
However, upon reaching the fourth floor, Keirah noticed two security guards stationed outside one cell. That had to be where Noir was being kept. They wouldn’t assign guards to just anyone. Instead of feeling nervous, Keirah felt a surge of adrenaline flow through her as she calmly strode over to the door in question.
Catalyst: Book 2 in The Dark Paradise Chronicles Page 29