Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series

by Ainsley St Claire

  “Speaking of Alana, I’m guessing she doesn’t know about Marco or the house?”

  Jim shakes his head.

  “Bash had mentioned they were monitoring the calls to her old phone. Has she heard from my parents recently?”

  “They’ve not been in contact.”

  SoBe is pacing around, so Axel stands and adjusts his dog bed, which was not squared against the windows it sits in front of. My boyfriend’s dog is a type-A. That fascinates me.

  “When do you want to talk to Alana?” Axel asks as he returns to the couch.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Jim answers.

  Axel looks at me.

  I snake my arms around his waist so he knows I’ll support him no matter what. “I’m happy to join you, but I imagine telling your sister everything probably doesn’t require an audience.”

  “That works if you’ll have a glass of bourbon waiting for me when I return.”

  I kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll have dinner for you, too.”

  I watch them leave. I know this will be hard on the boys, but I’m sure if anyone can do it, Alana can. She’s a good mother and will do what she has to to protect them.

  I take a quick shower to wash away the yuck of sitting on a plane with all its recycled air. Then after pouring myself a glass of white wine, I look through my mail. I’m stunned to find a letter in the stack with handwriting I would recognize anywhere. Printed neatly, the return address is V. Prentis, Inmate 67086B, Florence, Colorado.

  I set it down and stare at it. I don’t know that I want to read what Viviana has to say. I busy myself with unpacking, and I place an order for Greek food to be delivered at seven. But I keep looking at the letter, not sure what to do.

  Finally, I can’t take it any longer and open it.

  My dearest friend Mia,

  I miss you terribly. There is so much I’d like to talk to you about. I am lonely here so far away from my family and friends. I spend twenty-three hours a day in my seven by twelve foot concrete cell. I miss our late night calls and drinks with the girls. There are days I don’t see anyone since my meals slide in through a hole in the door.

  Thankfully, I can work out in my cell. I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in, but what I wouldn’t give for a day at a spa and a mani-pedi.

  I read like crazy. I’m grateful for the book mail I get from so many strangers who, like you, know I couldn’t have done anything to Cecelia. She was my friend. I adore Nate. You know I never could have done this and I’m just a fall girl for deep money. I can’t even believe they think I have ties to Russia. I was born in Merced, California, for God’s sake.

  My lawyer tells me you’ve started a dating app and you’ve met someone. I’m so glad you kicked Justin to the curb. We all deserve someone who is devoted to us, and he wasn’t worthy of you. I want to know all about this new guy. What does he look like? What does he do? Does he like baseball as much as you do? And I want the dirty details. Give me something for the self-love file.

  I can have five visits a month. Please come see me. During your testimony, you looked tired and so thin. I know that makes your mother proud, but you’re beautiful no matter what. You’re on my approved visitor’s list. You only need to contact the prison and they’ll give you the details of what you need to do when you arrive.

  I look forward to seeing you soon.

  Viviana

  I must reread this a half-dozen times. It’s full of half-truths. I finally take a photo of the letter and send it off to Marci before I get up and set the table for dinner, just to have something to do.

  It’s not even been five minutes when my phone rings. Before I can say hello, Marci asks, “Are you okay?”

  I look at my hand, and it’s trembling. “I think so.”

  “When did the letter arrive?” she probes.

  “I can’t be sure. I only pick my mail up every few days, and I’ve been out of town in New York.”

  “Can Walker and I come over?” Marci asks quietly. “We’d like to see the letter in person.”

  “Of course. I suppose they’re going to take it into evidence?”

  Marci expels a long breath. “Most likely.”

  “You’re welcome to come over when you’re ready. I ordered Greek, if you’d like to stay for dinner.”

  “That sounds perfect. Is Axel with you?”

  “No, he’s at home talking to his sister right now. But he will be back shortly.”

  “We’ll be down in about twenty minutes,” Marci says. “There’s nothing that implicates you, but I can tell what questions her lawyers are going to ask when you testify. See you shortly.”

  I make a quick scan of the document, which will be easier to read than the photo, and I store it on a private drive, just in case I need it later. The federal prosecutors might decide to hold on to the letter.

  I don’t want to interrupt Axel, so I send a text to Jim.

  Me: Don’t interrupt Axel, but I received a letter from Viv. Marci and Walker are on their way over. Come when you guys can get away. They’re staying for dinner. I hope you like Greek.

  Jim immediately texts back.

  Jim: We’re just wrapping up. Can you send me a copy of the letter?

  Me: Emailed it to you.

  Jim: Got it. We’ll see you within the hour.

  I’ve just called the restaurant to add to my dinner order when my buzzer rings. Jennifer gets the door, and Walker and his team of US Marshals follow Marci as they stream into my home.

  Marci hugs me close. “How are you doing?”

  I nod. “Pretty good, all things considered. I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to open the letter.”

  Marci purses her lips. “It’s your mail. You can read it. The letter went through screeners at the prison, so it’s not likely that she’s hidden anything in the document.”

  “May I see the original?” Walker asks.

  I point to the coffee table in my living room. Walker pulls plastic gloves from his pocket and two evidence bags from his back pocket. “I’ve alerted Abram Frieman, the US Attorney in Oregon, that you received this.”

  “Is she not allowed to mail me anything?”

  “It could be considered witness tampering,” Walker says.

  I close my eyes and rub my fingers over my forehead. I think I have a migraine beginning.

  “I would bet Viviana didn’t expect that you’d tell anyone you got this letter,” Marci muses. “Her reminding you of her relationship with Cecelia and Nate would meet the level of coercion. She must know that.”

  Jennifer pokes her head in. “Jim just let me know they’re on their way.”

  “Thank you, Jennifer. There’ll be plenty of food for you, too.”

  “I appreciate that, ma’am. I’ll be downstairs waiting for them,” she tells me.

  I pour Walker and Axel their bourbon. And Marci wants wine, so she’ll be enjoying the same pinot grigio that I am.

  We talk about our trip to New York while we wait for Jim and Axel to arrive, and after a few minutes the food is delivered. I put it in the kitchen for the time being.

  “That sounds like a fun time,” Marci says as I return.

  “It really was,” I tell her. “We stayed at the Waldorf, which was beautiful.”

  Marci lights up. “We stayed there over Christmas. Did you enjoy the chocolate fountain? It made our trip.”

  I flush. “We did. It helped make it quite a memorable stay.”

  I hear rustling behind me, and I know Jim and Axel have returned. Axel is visibly upset.

  “Did everything go okay with Alana?” I ask.

  The two lines between his eyes disappear immediately. “She was relieved. We’re going to work with a therapist to explain to the boys the bad choices their dad made. And she’s excited to move into a house with a yard.”

  SoBe comes to me and lays his head in my lap. I stroke him absently while we talk.

  “Are you okay?” Axel asks, searching my eyes.

  “I’m f
ine. I just got a letter from Viviana. Walker has it in an evidence bag.” I point to the table.

  Jim steps forward. “May I see the original?”

  Walker puts his hands in his pockets. “Have at it.”

  Jim studies the document while Axel puts his arms around me. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  I nod. “Thank you. Listen, dinner’s going to get cold. Why don’t we talk and eat?”

  We sit at the table and after everyone has filled their plates, the conversation about the letter begins.

  “This points us to how they’re going to position the relationship,” Marci explains. “You talked about everything, but Viv never talked to you about Nate and Cecelia—”

  “And she never talked to me about being a Russian spy either, which she addresses.”

  “Exactly. So, by sharing about your boyfriend, she’s saying you shared everything.”

  I sit back in my chair. “One thing I noticed when we were meeting with Viviana’s lawyer—she asked several questions about things Viv had always assumed about me. I didn’t tell Viviana everything. Some things she decided on her own.” I place my napkin on the table and turn to Marci and Walker. “Viv and I talked about men and our friends. We didn’t talk about business. Ever. While we spent time together, other than saying if we’d had a bad day or maybe a good day, that was as far as it went about work.”

  “Makes sense,” Marci says. “And when they call you to testify, you can address that easily. If we need a rebuttal witness, I can look to Elena or Claire.”

  I nod. “Okay. When do you think they’ll call me?”

  Walker stretches. “It will be a while. Several months probably.”

  “Should I write her back? Ignore her?” I search Walker’s face. I trust his judgment.

  “That’s a question I’ll pose to Frieman,” he tells me.

  We talk for a little over an hour longer as we eat, and despite just the short weekend away, I find I’m a little jet lagged tonight. After everyone goes, Axel and I sit together in front of the fireplace.

  “So, it went okay with Alana?”

  “Surprisingly well,” he says. “I think she was ready to hear all that.”

  “I’m glad. When will you go house shopping?”

  “We agreed to go tomorrow to see the three places Jim identified. I spoke with Fiona, and she can create three different shell companies to hide the property owner. I guess Nate did it with his homes, too.”

  “I didn’t know that.” I should have done that with this place. I’m single, and I have security twenty-four/seven. “What are you going to do about your place? Is it safe for you to continue living there?”

  He shrugs. “I think I’m ready for a change, but I thought I could hold onto it and make it my office. Alana can have the furniture. I can redecorate and keep a living area for the guys to come hang out and play video games. I’ll make sure it’s a live/work space so I don’t get in trouble with my homeowner’s association.”

  “That’s smart.” I turn to look at him. “So, seems like you’ll be needing a new place to live. Think you’d be okay to move in here?”

  His warmth engulfs me as he pulls me in close. “Yes. I would be more than okay with that. Thank you.”

  Chapter 33

  Mia

  I opened my eyes this morning and for the first time understood what it’s like to dread going into the office. It’s hard to believe everything that has happened over the last few weeks, and today is going to be a real test for me. I would have been happy to wait a few more weeks before my great return to Diamond, but now that we have some definitive answers about where the breach originated, it’s time to move forward. This just happens to coincide with the end of my leave of absence, making for an action-packed day. It’s going to be a shit show, but it’s time.

  “How does it feel to be going back into the office?” Jim asks as Peter drives us to Diamond Analytics.

  “I didn’t expect that my first day would be so busy when I decided I’d return today,” I tell him.

  He laughs. “So, it’s meetings with Victor Mao and Alex Tuberville at the top of your agenda, and then you have your board meeting over lunch at the Fairmont? Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’ll be glad to get this behind me. I’m ready to start a new chapter.” I’ve spent my forced leave of absence focused on Flirt and for the last three weeks, since we got back from New York, on my new baseball project with Sean. I didn’t miss Diamond as much as I thought I might. I’ll just be glad when today is in my rearview mirror

  “Is your goal going to be like what you did with Flirt?” Jim asks.

  Flirt is growing organically and moving international. Rather than doing a city-by-city rollout like we did in San Francisco, we’ve gone right to straight up advertising on television and within social media, as the app was spreading on its own. It seems my new way of creating matches is resonating. We’ll have revenues of more than two billion dollars this year, if we remain on track. Who would have thought that’s possible? It helped that the State Department got involved, thanks to Walker Clifton, and resolved the piracy issue in China. The Chinese Flirt website now actually belongs to us. The restrictions are tight, so the government may be getting the information they want anyway, but my sister Ava’s husband has been really helpful with keeping it functioning as designed.

  “I don’t know yet,” I confess. “Diamond is my baby, and my being out for the last three months has had a negative impact. But the idea of concentrating on things I’m passionate about is appealing. I need to find the middle ground.”

  “I think that makes a lot of sense,” Jim says. “Nate’s really excited about the software you’re building for him. He says it will help with the trades after the season is over, and then it will balance out the rookies moving into the game next summer.”

  I shake my head. “I hope so. I keep warning him, it’s not going to be perfect.”

  When we arrive at the office, I stand outside, looking up at the Diamond Analytics building. I’m proud of myself. I built this company from the ground up. It was a night that I couldn’t sleep when I figured out my algorithm. Now, I employ over three thousand people.

  Jim comes to stand next to me. “Ready?”

  “Let’s do this.” My stomach flips as I approach the door.

  “Ms. Couture,” Joe, our security guard, greets me.

  “Hey, Joe. I’m expecting some guests. Just send them up when they arrive. Please don’t announce them.”

  Joe’s brow furrows. “You’re the boss. Do I need their names?”

  “They’ll have gold badges,” I hint.

  It takes a minute, but then it registers. He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

  We ride up in the elevator, and I walk out onto the executive floor. It’s already busy with activity.

  “Welcome back,” my assistant says. She turns to Jim. “I’m Sarah. Are you replacing Peter?”

  “I’m here just for the day,” he tells her.

  “Can you get us some coffee and come in with a note pad?” I ask her.

  “Right away.” Sarah walks out.

  “She doesn’t know how I take it,” Jim says with a smirk.

  I set my bag down. San Francisco is beautiful in late August as the fog finally begins to lift. I love my view. I hear the door open and close behind me, and Sarah sets the tray down.

  “How do you take your coffee?” she asks Jim.

  “Black, please,” Jim says.

  She pours three cups of coffee and sits with her knees pressed firmly together. She’s nervous, but I’ll fix that for her. “Victor is on my calendar in twenty minutes, correct?”

  She nods. “That’s correct. Victor’s already arrived.”

  “Has he been in this office?” Jim asks.

  “I don’t think so. I know he’s here because I just confirmed with his admin.”

  “Shortly after my meeting with Victor begins, the FBI will enter the building,�
� I tell her. “They will come right up. They most likely won’t be announcing themselves.”

  Sarah’s eyes grow wide.

  “It’s okay, Sarah. They’re not here for me.”

  She nods. “Thank goodness. Wait—that means they’re here for Victor?”

  I don’t respond to that. “As soon as they arrive, you can let them in. But I ask that you not say anything to anyone.”

  “Of course.”

  Jim hands her a card. “Once Victor enters the office, you can call this number. They’re expecting your call.”

  “O-o-okay.”

  “If he asks you for coffee, just tell him you’ll get it. But don’t worry about fetching him coffee.”

  She stands. “I’ll bring him in once he arrives.”

  Jim steps out with Sarah, and I sigh. I didn’t sleep well last night, too busy worrying about how this was going to shake out. They’ve been watching Victor for a few weeks, trying to get a feel for who he was working with. He’s a Chinese national, and unfortunately, sometimes their government threatens their families back home if they get into trouble, so the FBI wants this to be a quiet takedown.

  Victor walks in, all smiles. Due to federal wire taps I know for a fact that he and board member Alex Tuberville have been working to orchestrate a coup at the board meeting later this morning. “Welcome back, Mia. It’ll be nice to have you back at the helm.”

  “I’m glad to be here.” I point him to a seat across the desk from me. “Let’s go through the profit and loss statements. I sent you a few questions on last month’s statements, but you didn’t get back to me. I’d like to understand why we’re negative in development and payroll?”

  “I responded to your email,” he says defensively.

  He didn’t, but I can pretend. “Oh. I’m sorry. It must have gotten lost in the ether. But you can tell me now.”

  “I don’t have my notes. I can go get them. They’re in my office,” he offers.

  “That’s okay, just give me the broad strokes. As our CFO, you should know without your notes why these numbers are negative.”