by Hamel, B. B.
“I know you did.” I finish my whiskey and pour another. “Have you found anything yet?”
She frowns down at her papers. “Nothing yet. I mean, you have some places where you could improve things, I made some notes, but—”
“This isn’t about improving my business,” I say, glaring at her. “But type up your thoughts and send them to me.”
She smiles and nods. “I will.”
“Thank you.” I close my eyes and drink the whiskey. “Let’s stop for the night.”
“But I want to know what your mother said.”
“I know you do. I’m still processing it.”
“You talked a while.”
“She’s a little long-winded. Likes to make little games and lessons out of things.”
“Still?”
I give her a flat look. “Forever, as far as she’s concerned.”
“Must have been a difficult house to grow up in.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
She takes off her glasses. “Seriously, Jacob. If you can tell me, it might help. I want to speed this along as much as possible.”
“I don’t,” I say. “I’m not doing this to catch Darin. I’m doing it to prove that he’s innocent.”
“And what your mother had to say doesn’t exactly make him look good, does it?”
I don’t reply. I just give her a flat look.
She shakes her head and stands. “Come on, Jacob. Don’t you trust me yet? I’m not in this to hurt you.”
“I believe you.” I step toward her. “I don’t think you’re in this to hurt me at all. But I think you might hurt Darin, at least accidentally. Even if things look bad, it doesn’t mean he’s breaking the law. Sometimes there’s smoke but no fire at all.”
She frowns and crosses her arms. “I need you to be open with me.”
“And I need you to trust that I’ll tell you anything that’s pertinent.”
She clenches her jaw. “Maybe I should get going for the night.”
“That’s a good idea.”
She snatches up her little notepad and glares at me. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“I’m sure you think so right now.”
She walks to the elevator and hits the call button. She lingers there, waiting, barely suppressing her anger.
“I thought we were going to be a team on this.”
“And I thought I wasn’t beholden to you.”
“You’re not, but—”
“But I’m still trying to protect my friend. I’m not misleading you about that one bit.”
We stare at each other for a long moment. She’s pissed off, but she still looks so fucking sexy.
The elevator arrives and the doors slide open.
“I’ll see you Monday,” she says, gets inside, and disappears.
I watch the doors shut and let out a long sigh.
I know I shouldn’t push her. I don’t want to be a dick to her, first of all, but I also need her just as much as she needs me. If I’m involved in this investigation then I can make sure that things like what my mother just told me aren’t taken out of context.
So Darin’s father plays golf with gangsters. Or men that are probably gangsters. That doesn’t mean he works for them and it doesn’t mean that Darin’s cleaning their money. It just means that Mr. Ficino has some suspect associates and probably needs some new friends.
Fucking hell. I know exactly how it’ll look to Val.
And I know I should probably tell her.
I finish my whiskey. I’ll give it the weekend. We’ll both cool off and I’ll figure out what the best way forward is, for both of us.
11
Val
Visions of spreadsheets danced through my head all weekend.
I was angry that Jacob was keeping something from me, but I heard parts of the conversation, at least his end. I know what they were talking about, and I know his mother is fairly well connected.
But I don’t know a whole lot about the Lofthouse family. I have the basics from my superiors: insanely wealthy, absurdly connected. They’re the kind of family that made their money early on in America and haven’t had to work hard since. They own some companies and apparently own an entire small town in Virginia called Loftville, but I don’t know anything else about them.
Still, it’s entirely plausible that his mother knows something about Darin, or at least knows someone that knows something. If they think he’s a gangster, then it seems likely that he really might be.
The way Jacob reacted surprised me, but it shouldn’t have. They’ve been friends for a long time. Of course Jacob’s going to be loyal. I can see that loyalty in him already, see it so clearly.
He doesn’t want his friend to be doing anything stupid that might screw them over. But he also can’t abide a man that does something behind his back.
I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if Darin had just told Jacob up front what he was doing and what his plans were.
Probably wouldn’t have made things a lot easier for him.
But he didn’t, and here I am, obsessing about what I read in those files.
My phone buzzes early Sunday morning. I pick it up and read a text from Jacob.
Jacob: Did you have fun Friday night?
Me: I did until you were a dick.
Jacob: So we’re still fighting then.
Me: I’m not fighting. I’m just doing my job.
Jacob: Good. I’m glad to hear it.
I toss my phone aside, annoyed with myself. I don’t know why I keep baiting him. I know why he’s angry and I can even understand it. I’m not really mad at him for that.
I’m annoyed that he won’t trust me. Even after I did my little act of devotion for him.
He should trust me. He should know that I’m not just going to take the first little scrap of information he gives me and go running to my boss with it.
I’m not trying to screw Darin here. I want to prove that he’s innocent, just like Jacob does. That would be best for Jacob and so that’s what I really want to happen.
But I’m not going to pretend like the guy’s innocent if he’s not.
I’m grumpy when Monday finally rolls around and I’m stuck at my desk so close to Jacob. I want to yell at him, but I keep it together. We actually have work to do today since the office is starting to take on clients and get moving for real.
I keep my head down, keep working, but I have my notepad from that night with me. I keep glancing down at it, reading notes, trying to puzzle what I saw together in my head.
Hedge funds are massive and complicated, even a small one like FLFM. There are a lot of clients and each one is invested in a bunch of different places. The money is moving around all the time and each investment, purchase, sale, and anything else is noted down and logged in multiple different spreadsheets. Trying to get it all down in a night is like trying to count every rock in Mt. Everest in an afternoon.
It just isn’t possible. But I did find some interesting things anyway.
First, there are accounts that don’t have client names attached to them. They’re just referred to by their number internally. That seems okay, I don’t see why it’s an issue, but it’s a little strange that some use a name and some use a number. Second, there are large sums moving between accounts that aren’t accounted for, or at least not exactly. I can’t tell if they’re buys or sales or what, and the data isn’t clear.
So nothing concrete, but it’s a start. I might see that same sort of stuff at any hedge fund in the world though.
Jacob doesn’t talk to me all day. By the time people start to leave, I feel myself getting antsy.
“Don’t work too late,” Brian says. “You’re going to make me look bad.”
“That’s not too hard.”
“Oh, sick burn.” He grins and flips me off as he leaves.
I sigh and shake my head. I don’t know why I’m so crabby. I definitely shouldn’t bait the local asshole.
But once most people are cleared out and it’s nearly six, I get what I want. Jacob appears at my cube, leaning casually against the wall. “Surprised you’re still here.”
I turn my chair to him and cross my legs. “I’m a hard worker.”
“I know. I’ve seen you in action.”
I frown. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lofthouse?”
He leans toward me. “I like that. Very formal.”
I arch an eyebrow in response.
He sighs and stands up. “Come on. I want to talk.”
“Your office?”
“Unless you want to talk out here, fed.”
I wince and look around, eyes wide. He laughs and walks to his office.
I stand and hurry after him. I shut the door behind me and he uses his remote to roll the blinds down and lock the door. It closes with a satisfying thud.
Although that means I’m trapped in here with him.
“Sit,” he says.
I walk over to the chairs and sit. I can’t help but obey him, even if I’m still a little angry.
“Listen,” he says. “I know why you’re angry.”
“Why’s that?”
“You think I don’t trust you.”
I nod once. “Okay. I guess it’s obvious then.”
He sighs. “Val. We’re on the same team. Despite what you think.”
“I think you were given some information about our target, but you chose not to share it with me because you don’t trust me.”
He looks away. “My mother gave me speculation.”
“I’m not going to share that with my boss,” I say. “Come on, Jacob.”
“Sometimes these things… they get too big.” He hesitates. “Sometimes agencies will take anything they can get just to show they have a win. You said they’ve been looking at Darin for a while?”
I nod once with a frown. “Yeah. They have.”
“That means resources have been funneled into this,” he says. “That means time and energy. They don’t want him to be innocent. They want to find anything they can to show that their whole investigation wasn’t a waste.”
“No way. That’s not how we operate.”
“Are you sure?” He comes over and sits in the chair next to mine. “Look, you said you’re new there, right?”
“Right.”
“So you might not know.”
I hesitate. “I know. They wouldn’t do that.”
He frowns. “Okay, say you’re right. Can you at least understand where I’m coming from?”
“I can,” I admit despite myself.
“Good. We need to lay down some ground rules.”
I hesitate. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”
“First rule. You don’t tell your superiors anything that we haven’t discussed first.”
“I don’t like that rule.”
“I know,” he says.
“How can I be sure you’re not just trying to throw me off Darin’s trail?”
He cocks his head. “Interesting. That didn’t even occur to me.”
“I gave you my devotion. So then where is yours?”
He smiles slightly and leans closer. “You want that, do you?” His voice is low and quiet. “Interesting.”
“Jacob—”
He reaches out and tilts my chin toward him. “I’ll give you what you want,” he says. “But you’re not ready for it. I don’t think you can handle my devotion, little Valerie.”
“Give me something then,” I say.
“I’ll give you this. I swear on my family’s name that I want to catch Darin if he’s guilty. But I refuse to pin something on him that he didn’t do.”
“Your family’s name?”
“That means more than I think you can understand.”
I bite my lip. “Okay. I can take that for now.”
“Fine then. First rule is, no speaking with your bosses before we discuss first.”
“But I still might tell them whatever I want.”
He nods. “So long as you give me a heads-up.”
“That seems fair.”
“Next rule is, you don’t go further than me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t go out on your own. Don’t follow Darin or bug him or do something stupid.”
“It might be necessary. I mean, I’m not a spy, I don’t know how to do that stuff, but—”
“It’s dangerous,” he says. “If Darin is involved with organized crime, they’re dangerous. It’s not some game we’re playing with spreadsheets and numbers, Valerie. These are killers.”
I stare at him for a long moment. I can tell he’s not joking. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“So you’ll listen?”
“That’s… yeah, I’ll listen.”
“Good.” He leans forward and kisses me softly. “I promise I’ll share what I find out from now on.”
“Then you want to tell me what your mom said.”
He grins and leans back in his chair. “Like I said, it was all speculation. She knows some men that frequent the same places Mr. Ficino does, Darin’s father. Apparently, he likes to hang out with guys that look like gangsters.”
I snort a little. “That’s it?”
“That’s it. Speculation. But you see why I didn’t want to tell you?”
I hesitate for a second then nod. “I get it. You didn’t want me to take that back to my boss like it meant something more than it does.”
“Exactly. I need to make sure that speculation is real. That those guys are actually gangsters and not just some Italian guys Mr. Ficino grew up with.”
“All right then. I get it.”
“My mother…” He trails off. “My mother is good at this sort of thing. She’s been playing these games for a long time.”
“Can we trust her?”
He laughs. “When it comes to protecting her family, that’s about the only thing she can be trusted with.”
“And she’s protecting you?”
“Not exactly. If Darin’s involved with the mob, she wants to know, and she wants it out of our lives. The Lofthouse family doesn’t do that.”
I laugh a little bit. “What does the Lofthouse family do?”
“It spends money on good causes and flexes its muscle.”
“Sexy.”
He grins. “You have no clue.”
“What was it like, growing up in that house? I mean, don’t you guys have a town named after you?”
He winces a little bit and runs a hand through his hair. “Yes, we do and it was… strange. I didn’t do all my growing up there, I was shipped off pretty young to boarding school, but it was strange when I was a kid. I had my siblings. We were really close.” He pauses for a long moment. “But that was it.”
“No other friends?”
“Not really. Anything we wanted was brought into Lofthouse Manor. Sometimes the staff brought their children and we’d play with them, but it was always made clear that we weren’t going to be friends with them. One doesn’t become friends with the staff, or at least that’s what my mother and father believe.”
I shake my head and try to picture a life without friends, living in some mansion in the middle of a small Virginia town, but I can’t picture it. “How did you turn out so… normal?”
“Lucky,” he says. “I guess. We all made it through relatively unscathed. Although my older brother rebelled a bit and my youngest sister is still rebelling, but we all deal with it in our own ways.”
“Darin must be important to you then. You didn’t have friends growing up, so…”
He smiles a little. “Perceptive. Yeah, well, Darin was my first and best friend. He was the first one to treat me normal.”
I reach out and take his hand. He looks a little surprised but then squeezes his back. “I didn’t appreciate how hard this was for you.”
“How could you?”
“I think I get it a little bit more now.”
> “You don’t have to be gentle with me,” he says, his voice low. “I can take it. If you find something, you have to tell me. I need to know the truth about him.”
I nod slowly. “I promise I won’t keep anything from you.”
“Thank you.” He reaches out and pulls me toward him. We kiss for a long, slow moment. He breaks it off and stands. “I should finish some work.”
“Yeah, okay. I need to head home.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. We can start going over more of those papers soon.” He hesitates. “Did you find anything interesting, by the way?”
“Not really,” I admit. “Some inconsistencies. I’ll tell you about them later. But so far, nothing.”
He doesn’t look relieved. “We’ll keep looking.”
I linger there. I want to tell him that I wish this could be easier. I keep seeing a young Jacob, just a boy, surrounded by nobody but his family and their staff, living a secluded, strange, privileged childhood. I can see how finding a new friend in Darin was huge to him, and it’s amazing he’s stayed this loyal for so long.
And now here I am, trying to destroy him.
But that’s just the kind of man Jacob clearly is. If something’s wrong, if Darin’s lying, breaking the law, doing anything that could jeopardize them both, clearly Jacob has to find out about it… and put a stop to it.
I admire him. I really, really admire him.
And I know I’ll devote more and more to him the more I peel past the layers.
I turn and leave his office, a smile on my face.
12
Jacob
I thought it would be weird seeing Darin again.
With all this stuff happening behind his back, I thought I might feel strange around him. I mean, he might be a mobster and I might be working with people that want to take him down. I still want to prove his innocence but it’s all so up in the air.
But as soon as I see him, we fall back into the same old, easy patterns.
He comes over and we hug. “Good to see you,” he says.
“Good to see you, too.” And I really mean it. “How was the trip?”
“Oh, brother, you know me. Easy as pie.” He grins. Darin’s tall, nearly my height, with dark hair perfectly styled. He’s a handsome man, I’ll hand him that, with an easy smile and a charming manner. People have always been drawn to him.