Facade

by Lexy Timms

  I narrowed my eyes at her as I drew in a deep breath.

  “If I may say so, however, it’s probably not the best idea to bring a lover with you on a business trip,” Emma said.

  “No, you may not say so,” I said. “I’m a busy man, Miss Emma. You know that better than anyone on my team. Sometimes, the only time I can find for such proclivities is on a trip like this, and it does not require your input. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said with a murmur.

  I was annoyed at her presumption, and even more frustrated with the idea that she felt she held a position in my life to touch on it. But I was the one keeping everything quiet with what Sam was really doing here. I was the one keeping it under wraps from my company so as to not alert the media to anything. So, I had to deal with the backlash and the presumptions. My reputation preceded me in the business world, but it also did in the world of women as well. I had paraded many around throughout my quick rise to success, so it only made sense Emma would draw that conclusion.

  But with that conclusion came the part of Emma’s personality both Sam and Jacob had nailed.

  Emma still had a crush, and I wasn’t sure how to handle that yet.

  I watched Emma walk toward the front door of my home as she continued to make a few notes. I released the breath I was holding, ready to head to my room to go pack. I wouldn’t need much on the trip. My laptop. My paperwork. A couple of suits and my toiletries. I needed to call my retainer pilot to make sure the jet was cleaned, gassed, and ready to go for the trip tomorrow morning.

  Emma, however, turned around on the porch and caught my attention.

  “This might get me fired, but I’ll take the chance,” she said. “Mr. Steele, you’re bred differently than Miss Samantha, and I felt it needed to be said. I’ve worked under your employ for four years, and there have been many women you’ve courted on your arm. But none of them were like Sam. You deserve better than she can give you.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “None of them were like Sam. Sometimes, a change is nice. But I will warn you right now, Miss Emma. You are treading on thin ice with your position. There are many women—and men—who would kill for your job. I suggest you start remembering the boundaries we put forth a couple of years ago, so I don’t have to fire you too.”

  I watched her face morph into something akin to shock before she turned on her heels. She walked, her back straight and her head bowed, to the cab she had come in. I watched the cab pull away from the front of my home just as John came walking up the driveway, the signed paperwork in his hand.

  I knew I would have to eventually deal with Emma and this debacle later.

  But right now, I had bigger issues on my plate.

  Chapter 10

  Sam

  “WHY, HELLO THERE,” Derek said.

  “Hey, it’s Sam.”

  “I know. Hence why I answered the phone the way I did,” he said.

  “Right. Okay. I’m trying to compile a suspect list.”

  “Do we really need to do this over the phone?” he asked.

  “Yes, we do. I’m trying to compile this list, but you haven’t given me all the information I need.”

  “Well, Miss Williams, it’s hard to get my hands on some things when I’m trying not to tip people off to the fact that something is wrong.”

  “Not my problem. I didn’t instate that necessity. John isn’t only there to keep an eye on you at work. He’s also there to help you get the information I need. But, he’s also authorized to venture out on his own.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” he asked.

  “It means you’re no longer in control. The only way this happens the way you want it to is if it doesn’t hinder me getting the information I need. It if does, one well-placed phone call to the man in your office, and I have what I need within minutes.”

  “I don’t do well to being strong-armed, Miss Williams.”

  “Someone’s trying to kill you. You no longer have a choice.”

  “Can you at least walk me through your train of thought?” he asked.

  “Is that something that interests you?” I asked.

  “Since you’re intent on reminding me of things I already know, yes. It does interest me.”

  “I suspect Griggs or someone on your previous security team has something to do with this.”

  “Why? Because they have access to my things?” he asked.

  “Yes, but also because they seem competent and capable of handling something like this. But they aren’t.”

  “Your suspicion of them is based on the fact that they can do their job?” he asked.

  “And they aren’t. That is key. Someone got into your room and laid a letter on your bed, and you’re telling me a competent security team that specializes in high-profile clients who have the best technology at their fingertips couldn't catch it?”

  “Okay, you have a point.”

  “I did some digging on your team, and I found something strange,” I said.

  “Can you talk about this anomaly?”

  “Yes. According to some of their previous clientele, this team keeps making the same mistakes.”

  “So, it could be that this is normal for them. Someone’s figured out their mistakes, and they’re exploiting them.”

  “Or they could be pulling these kinds of things on other clients, and we’re the first ones to really peg them at their game. Either way, I’ve got someone contacting some of their previous clients to see if anyone had been robbed, harassed, or otherwise threatened while they were under their employ.”

  “And until then?” he asked.

  “You haven’t given me Emma’s full name,” I said.

  “You suspect my personal assistant might be doing this.”

  “We’ve already had this discussion. I think she has all the markers of someone who could spin out of control, yes. And, I’ve figured out she has access to your premises. Thank you for filling me in on that, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said dryly.

  “You’re holding something back from me.”

  “How do you figure?” he asked.

  “Don’t make me explain it. Just tell me I’m right and then tell me what you’re hiding.”

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “I’ve got another phone in my hand ready to send a text message to John. Not a phone call you can screen, but a message.”

  “Why are you so hell-bent on doing this your way?” he asked.

  “Because doing it your way got someone in your bedroom.”

  I heard him sigh on the other end of the line, and I knew I had him. If only he would stop fucking fighting me at every damn turn.

  “When I fired Griggs, he was kind of annoyed. I gave them more money than was laid out in our original contracts so long as they signed a nondisclosure agreement. I have a hard time believing he would still betray me after all that.”

  “What do you mean ‘annoyed’?” I asked.

  “Agitated. You know, that he lost his job.”

  “Did he say anything to you?” I asked.

  I heard another sigh, and I shook my head.

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “Griggs isn’t the one doing this,” he said.

  “The fact that you have to say that tells me whatever he said was damning. Now, what the fuck did he say?”

  “He said I would regret firing him.”

  I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath as I sent the message to John.

  “Why is John picking up his phone?” Derek asked.

  “Pay attention.”

  “Miss Williams, you will tell me right now why this burly man in my office is picking up his phone.”

  “Get me the information I need,” I said.

  “This isn’t Griggs or my former security team, and this isn’t Emma. Trust me. I know them.”

  “And that’s why your perception is tainted. Vegas will be a break from all of this for you, to get you away and
get you in the right frame of mind for what’s going on. You’ve been blindsided, and you’re compromised in many ways.”

  “What does that message say?” he asked.

  His voice was low. Rumbling. Threatening if I was actually scared of someone like him. But I knew he was scared. Petrified, even. I knew he was acting this way because he was used to having control, and he didn’t anymore.

  And that coupled with the letters and the charity event were beginning to unravel him.

  “It says you’ve got fifteen minutes to put together the information I need. Otherwise, he has permission to go seeking it,” I said.

  “Fucking—”

  I sighed as I sat down on the edge of Derek’s kitchen table.

  “If your enemy is someone with a bit more power, they’ll try something in Vegas. You haven’t really kept it secret that you’re going there for a couple of days. They’ll know you won’t have your usual security precautions, so they’ll think you’re vulnerable. But you won’t be because you’ll have me.”

  “Right now, you seem to be the one hell-bent on destroying all this,” Derek said.

  “You own your company. You can get information whenever you want it, and all you have to do is say you need it. If they question you, then remind them of who you are. You like doing that, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Some things take a bit more tact. I can’t start stomping around here asking for information when I’ve always dealt with people fluidly and tactfully.”

  “Again, not my problem, and you’ve got thirteen minutes now to get me what I need.”

  “You’re the one still talking in my ear. Ready to let me off the hook?”

  “One last thing. If they don’t try anything in Vegas, it’ll imply that the threat is local, which is what I’m hoping for, to say the least,” I said.

  “That it?”

  “For me, yes. But I can tell you still want to talk.”

  Silence fell onto the phone as Derek started shuffling things around.

  “I’m sending out a few emails with urgent attachments. Once I have the information, I’ll forward it to your cell,” he said.

  “Great. Now, can I tell you something that will help to calm your nerves?”

  “Is that possible for you to do?” he asked.

  “It is possible that someone is simply doing all of this to shake your nerves up. If someone had hired someone to take you out, or hired more than one person, this job would’ve already been done.”

  “My already being dead is supposed to help me?” he asked.

  “You’re not listening to what I’m saying.”

  “You just said—”

  “What I was saying was if the job was being done by professionals, they wouldn’t pussyfoot around like this. You would’ve already been dead.”

  “Pussyfooting, huh?” he asked.

  “Yep. But right now, someone’s wanting to scare you, which tells me no one’s hired anyone to kill you. This is personal. It’s why I’m convinced it’s someone close to you.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you lead with that when you called?” he asked.

  “Because you don’t listen anyway. I was trying not to waste my breath.”

  “What? You trying to ration out your oxygen?”

  “No. You’re exhausting to work with, and I’m trying to limit my time around you.”

  “Funny, since you’re supposed to be saving my life.”

  “You done?” I asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. If a professional team had already gained access to your house, you’d be done. Which means I’m still researching the option that someone is only trying to scare you.”

  “Interesting you should say that because that routes me back to why I’m not alerting anyone to the fact that this is all happening. I should be standing tall and brave right now, not hunkering down in fear,” he said. “Portraying to the media and my company that nothing is wrong so whoever is doing this gets the impression their shit isn’t working.”

  “That could make them angry,” I said. “Make them more aggressive.”

  “Hence why I hired you.”

  I had to admit, I had a newfound respect for the man. He was taking a very ballsy approach. One I’d never known a client to take before. Clients I’d worked with before would’ve already turtled up on a private island somewhere, cashed in their shit, and handed their company over to save their own asses. They would’ve caved to whatever demands were asked of them just to get the threat to go away. He had a very serious issue looming over his shoulders, and his instinct was to stand above it all and keep it under wraps so he didn’t worry anyone and so he didn’t give off the scent of fear like someone wanted from him.

  It was something I would do in this situation.

  “Anything else, Miss Williams?”

  “Get me that information so I can do my job,” I said.

  “Already forwarding what I have.”

  “See? That wasn’t that hard, was it?” I asked.

  I heard a chuckle over the receiver as my phone lit up in my hand.

  “Enjoy the information, Miss Williams.”

  “Enjoy John, Mr. Steele.”

  Chapter 11

  Derek

  THE AMOUNT OF WORK Sam kept dropping into my lap was annoying. She was acting as if I didn’t already have a company to run or something, but her effectiveness was impressive. She was quick to narrow things down, she was quick to shut down possible avenues, and she was even quicker to pinpoint suspects. But even though things were ramping up at the office and even though that letter was found on my bed, I still didn’t feel I needed her protection at night. If someone came into my room, I was prepared enough as it was. I had a gun in my bedside table and a knife underneath my pillow.

  She was instilling worry when there was no reason to have any, and it was beginning to affect my disposition.

  “Delivery for Mr. Steele.”

  The mailman was standing at the door as John got up from the couch. I held my hand out, trying to get him to sit back down as I walked over to the door. But the man delivering this wasn’t our regular mailman from the mailroom. This was an expensive courier delivering a brown envelope to me that required my signature.

  And my stomach plummeted to the floor.

  I signed my name and tipped the man before I shut my office door. John strode over to my desk, with his long ass legs and his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. I hated having that man around. It was a solid reminder of the fun little relationship he had with Miss Williams. He was going to be enough of a distraction for her as it was, and I was paying her a large sum of money to keep her sights set on me.

  It was irresponsible of her to bring a man like him in, a man that so obviously distracted her from her duties.

  There were men filtering on and off the floor, installing video stuff as I stared down at the envelope in my hand. I knew what I was looking at. This had gone on long enough for me to know who had sent this to me. Drills were whirring, and hammers were knocking. Someone knocked on my door, asking for entrance to set up the “electrical framework” as I stared down at my hands.

  “Do you want me to let them in?” John asked.

  “Yeah. Sure,” I said mindlessly. “Let them in.”

  John left my side, and I opened the envelope. I pulled out the smooth letter, but this time it was on heavier cardstock. The paper was woven, and the texture was expensive. There was no letterhead, and the note itself was typed, but this time, I could tell it was typed on a typewriter.

  Who the hell still owned a typewriter? And why would they use such a beautiful paper in such a decrepit piece of technology?

  MR. STEELE,

  I hope you enjoyed the courier. I thought it was a nice touch. It’s a wonderful day today. That gray suit you’re in looks nice. If you have forgotten our deal, let me reiterate it. I know where you are. I know what you do. I know what you enjoy eating and where you sleep. This time, I have outlined
the charities I want your funds donated to. You know, to give you a bit more time to flounder. Which I know you will do. Because I know you, Mr. Steele. Better than you could ever wish for.

  Don’t keep me waiting,

  Eye

  There was a list of charities on the bottom. Sixteen of them, to be exact. They were all over the place. Everything from Wounded Warriors to Autism Speaks to various animal charities. A couple provided clean water overseas to third-world countries and one of the charities provided help to the homeless in San Francisco.

  I set the note on the desk as Jacob’s voice caught my attention.

  “Something wrong with your office?” he asked.

  “The lights have been flickering in the hall the past few days. I’ve had several complaints, and when I came in this morning, I had no power in my office,” I said.

  “Leave it to you to get a team here immediately,” he said with a grin.

  “You been having problems in your room at all?” I asked.

  “Nope, but I’ll let you know if I do. Listen, I wanna talk to you about this Vegas trip.”

  “If you tell me someone’s changed the time of the meeting again, I’m gonna—”

  “No, no, no. Nothing like that. Man, you’re really tense. I was going to express interest in coming on the trip. You know, for research purposes.”

  “And by research, you mean to participate in all the high-roller casino trips,” I said.

  “It’s been a while since the two of us did our thing in Vegas. Why not now?”

  “Because this is a business trip. Not a pleasure one.”

  “Interesting, since you’re taking Sam,” he said with a grin.

  “We’ll plan our own weekend trip to Vegas,” I said.

  “Just not in the room the two of you will be inhabiting. I can only imagine the body fluids that will spray along that hotel room.”

  I snickered and shook my head, trying to let the crude comment pass me by. We weren’t actually in a relationship, so there was no reason for me to feel the anger I did when that comment left his mouth about Sam.

  “Mr. Steele?”

  I internally groaned as I heard Emma’s voice. I could feel Jacob’s grin on me as I raised my eyes to him. He was taunting me as he continued to eye the electrical crew, with their loud noises and their fucking drills and hammers and bullshit.