“May I get you a taxi, miss?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she responded, and jumped into the cab he hailed. She leaned her head against the seat as the taxi pulled out into the serene daybreak of Chicago.
* * *
Adam opened his eyes to an empty bed. Normally, that wouldn’t have fazed him, but he was still upset that Allison had left without a word. Just two days ago he’d woken up hoping to spend the entire weekend tangled in the sheets with her. Instead, he’d woken up alone.
If that wasn’t pathetic enough, he’d spent the weekend planning ways to bump into her. He’d managed to find busywork at Byrnes and Company, and spent most of the daylight hours in the office. He’d even faked memory loss on some of the processes so he could call her cell phone. Then again, he hadn’t worked in his dad’s office for over ten years, so there might not have been as much faking as he’d have liked.
He hadn’t “accidentally” bumped into her, and she wouldn’t answer her phone.
He lifted himself from the bed and made his way to the shower. He ran through the events of Friday. Nothing explained her bolting out the door.
At first he thought that she might have had a meeting, but how many meetings occur on Saturday morning? Anyway, one meeting wouldn’t have stopped her from calling him all weekend. She obviously didn’t want to talk to him. People that want to talk manage to find thirty seconds in their day to say, “Hey, I’m swamped but that was some exceptional sex we had. Let’s do it again. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”
He finished his morning regimen and drove through the bumper-to-bumper traffic, vacillating between hurt and anger. He wasn’t sure why this weekend bothered him. There was really no reason for him to be angry. It’s not like they owed each other any explanations. Hell, they weren’t even dating. It was just one of those things that happened.
Still, he couldn’t seem to shake the ache in his gut that Friday meant nothing to her. How could she just walk away? He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, and looked out the passenger window. A small gray-haired woman stared at him out the window of her large car, her eyes wide with alarm. He gave his best calming smile, and waved when she turned off onto the next block. Great. Now, he was scaring the elderly.
He shook his head. Why did he care that Allison left? He didn’t regret his own actions. He only regretted that their time together had come to an end. Even though they were thrown together by difficult circumstances, he still had a good time with her. He loved her laugh. He loved how she challenged him. He loved… spending time with her.
Love. Huh. He felt the thump of his heartbeat in his ear as a lump lodged in his throat. Just because he loved being with her, didn’t mean he was in love with her. They were almost like relatives… relatives that slept together? Damn. They were nothing like relatives, and what he felt was way past friendship.
Damn… damn. He did not need this. He lived on the other side of the country. Love had nothing to do with this situation. He only cared that she ran out because it would make for a difficult working relationship. He owned the company she would undoubtedly run when Dale grew tired of the nine-to-five grind.
“This is strictly a professional concern,” he said with determination, to no one in particular. Since he would be returning to Phoenix soon, he just needed to know that she could contact him if the need ever arose.
Sitting down and talking after work would probably be best. After all, they needed to keep their situation quiet. They needed to maintain a businesslike appearance when he left. Having others question their ethical standards at this juncture would not be helpful.
He pulled into the Byrnes and Company parking garage and made his way up the elevator. He started down the hall to his office, but couldn’t seem to stop himself from passing by Allison’s. His anger grew as he paused at her door, finding her office silent and untouched.
“Good morning, Adam,” Julie announced, and Adam jumped like a child caught stealing the last cookie.
“Hi, Julie. Have you seen Allison this morning?” he asked, trying to control his annoyance.
“She had an early meeting with Doug Kaminski. I don’t expect her till after lunch.” Julie eyed him. He swore he had a sign on his forehead, I HAD SEX WITH ALLISON. He could feel her gaze piercing through him, seeing all his secrets.
“Ah. Well, then I’ll discuss this matter with her later,” he said in his best corporate voice. He could, technically, have an important business matter to discuss. It could be true.
He shook his head, disgust and embarrassment tweaking his nerves, as he shuffled to his temporary office. Why was he letting this woman get to him? He had more pressing things to worry about than where Allison was. It had not been determined if his father’s death was from natural causes, and he still needed to get things squared away so he could go back home to Phoenix.
He missed Phoenix. He missed the control he had over his life there. Allison had always messed with that sense of organization. It had been one of the reasons he left Chicago. He needed to get out of this city as soon as possible, before he made any more mistakes.
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. It had been a mistake. The regret he thought wasn’t there lodged in his throat. He never should have slept with her; this whole thing was a colossal mistake. He skulked to his desk and leaned his head back onto his brown leather chair. He closed his eyes. No more distractions. No more mistakes.
Well, no more mistakes after he talked to Allison and found out why she ran away like pack of wild chickens. It’s not like this situation made her sky fall. He was the one left alone.
Chapter Eleven
Joe and his partner, Shay, sat on Shay’s couch, surrounded by fast-food coffee cups and CD jewel-cases. His eyes glazed over as they stared at yet another video from Allison Southby’s condo. There was no way they could have sat through this mind-numbing footage if they were crammed in a five-by-ten office with crappy chairs. The building had allowed them to take the CDs off the premises so long as the detectives agreed to bring them back.
The footage had been sporadic, at best. Some cameras worked part of the time, some not at all, and most of them had a virtually undecipherable date stamp. Joe shook his head. He would have thought that a high-end building would have better organization when it came to their tenant’s safety.
Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. The two partners had combed through twelve hours of footage and had yet to find anything suspicious. No one had remembered anyone out of the ordinary coming through the lobby over the past week.
“This is getting old,” he huffed.
Shay nodded in agreement. “How could this person get in without anyone seeing them? You would at least think the camera would’ve caught them.”
“Exactly.” He watched another minute of empty hallway. “You’d think the camera would’ve caught something. I mean, I heard there were celebrities in this building. Why can’t they give us a few indiscretions to keep us entertained?”
“You’re terrible.”
“Come on. Tell me you wouldn’t enjoy seeing the guy from the forty-fifth floor bumpin’ uglies with the woman from the fortieth floor,” he chided as his eyebrows rose.
“Ugh. Bumpin’ uglies? You’re a child.” She threw an empty cup at his chest, and he batted it to the floor. “You wonder why I don’t let you talk in the interrogations.”
“Yeah, right. You don’t let me talk because you can’t stop flapping your gums. Someday, maybe I’ll get a word in edgewise.” He smiled as she stuck out her tongue. “And I’m the child.” He leaned back and yawned. “Is this torture over yet? Although I truly enjoy watching”—he checked his watch—“twelve hours of vacant corridors and unsuspecting fools adjusting their junk, I could use a break from this quality television programming.”
“I think we found our next reality TV show. We’ll call it Ball Scratchers.” She laughed as Joe stared at the screen. A familiar woman was getting off one of the eleva
tors in the garage—only minutes before Allison and Adam arrived at the condo according to the time stamp. He rewound and paused the playback.
Shay looked over at the screen. “Wasn’t her picture on Herb’s mantel?” “Yeah. She works for Byrnes and Company,” Joe agreed.
“Interesting. Ready for a field trip?”
* * *
Allison attempted to give Doug Kaminski her best smile. The meeting wasn’t going as planned. This was supposed to be a simple meeting where they both discussed the upcoming fiftieth-anniversary gift for his staff. Instead, as she pulled out the replica of the jewelry, the conversation had taken a disturbing turn.
“I just don’t want to give you my order and find myself scrambling when you shut your doors.” He lifted a glass of water to his lips. “I pride myself on the personal gifts I give my staff. I don’t want to be stuck buying off the rack.”
She would’ve laughed as he pursed his lips at the thought of “buying off the rack,” but she was too busy freaking out at the lost account. Where was he getting his information? “I assure you, Doug, you will not be buying off the rack. We have your order on file, we have given you the design, and we will be creating these pieces to your specifications.”
“I just don’t know…”
“Look, Doug, you and Herb go way back. Hell, we’ve worked together for years. Have I ever steered you wrong?” Allison looked into his eyes as she tried to exude confidence with her rigid back and no-nonsense attitude. This was always where she shone.
“No, but…”
“Then give me the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know where you heard Byrnes and Company was closing their doors, but I guarantee that is a rumor. We’re taking orders into the end of next year. That is not a company that plans on shutting their doors.”
“Okay, Allison. I’m with you. But I do want to talk about the design again. Ben had a few ideas that I liked.”
“Ben?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Red crept up Doug’s neck. “Ben Mooring was the one who told me about the closing. I guess I should have considered the source.”
Anger clawed at Allison’s throat. That sonofa… She should have known that weasel would strike. She just never thought he’d strike while Herb’s body was still warm. What a sleazebag. “No problem.” She kept her voice light and professional. Just because Ben was an unprofessional douchebag didn’t mean she had to be.
“Don’t worry about it, Doug.” She reached across the table and patted his hand. “Herb was very fond of you. He loved working with you. His favorite jewelry design was the opal stars you designed together ten years ago for your fortieth anniversary.”
“Those were classic.” Doug’s chest puffed with pride as he spun the current replica brooch in his hand.
“So, this year we’re creating a tie clip for the men, and a brooch for the women. The brooch will be gold, with a round, brilliant-cut diamond at the center of a four-leaf clover. Pear-shaped emeralds will surround the diamond, giving it the clover look.”
“That will be perfect. Now, I’d also like to have a string of diamonds covering the stem.”
“Exquisite.” Allison nodded and wrote the new requirement on the order form. “But that could get costly.”
“I trust you can come up with a plan to make sure I don’t have to pay more than three hundred dollars per brooch. That is what Ben quoted.” Doug smiled as he took another drink.
The anger spun around Allison’s throat again. The stem would take at least one carat of diamond chips. They were looking at five hundred and fifty, minimum, to add the diamonds. Where was Ben getting three hundred dollars? She took a deep, calming breath and said. “Did he know the number of diamonds it would take to cover the stem?”
“Sure. He had an exact replica like you have here.” He placed the brooch on the table and picked up his drink.
How the hell had Ben gotten a hold of the design for her client? The design was on file with Byrnes and very few people had access. Darn.
Pain shot down the side of her head as she looked at the specifications for the stem. This would never work. She couldn’t just give diamonds away for free, that would destroy Byrnes and Company. How was she going to salvage this?
“If you cover the stem, it will mask the gold. What if we incorporate diamonds along the stem? That way you’re not taking away from the gold.”
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t notice that. I want to show off the gold. That would be better.”
“Great. I’ll get the jewelry artists to work on the new design.”
She continued writing as she started talking about the diamond quality, cost and the generous discount. After all, the customer was staying with Byrnes. With Ben sniffing around she was going to do everything in her power to make sure it stayed that way.
Allison headed back to the office after the most unusual meeting she’d ever attended with Kaminski. Heck, it was the most unusual meeting she’d ever sat through—period. Thankfully, she was able to convince him to stay with Byrnes and Company, but the fact that she had to convince him at all left her fuming.
Ben Mooring had not only tried to take Kaminski’s business away, but somehow he’d gotten his grubby little hands on the actual prototype of the brooch.
The conniving jackass. He’d always been a grade “A” jerk.
Fresh out of college, Ben had worked for Byrnes and Company for two years. In that time, he’d learned everything he could about the jewelry business, making contacts and befriending the corporate customers. Herb had been ecstatic. Ben had schmoozed the customers and got them to spend big money on their jewelry purchases. A television hostess bought diamond rings for all of her staff that Christmas, and a large international company gave their district managers a personalized money clip. Byrnes and Company basked in their success. When Ben had decided he wanted to branch out on his own, Herb tried to get him to stay, but ultimately he knew Ben’s heart was somewhere else.
That was why Herb had given Ben the loan, start-up money to finance his own company. It had been a win-win. Herb got to help a man he was impressed with, and he wouldn’t have Ben as competition. Their agreement was that Herb would fulfill the bigger orders—his facility was larger—and Ben would take over the smaller orders.
Things had been going well until Herb’s sales staff started being told by some of their clients that their companies would no longer be doing business with Byrnes and Company. They’d decided to move over to Mooring Industries. Ben had over half of the Byrnes customers before Herb even knew what was happening.
It had taken Byrnes and Company months to solidify their relationships with their customers, and devise a strategy to attract some of the deserters back into the fold. Herb had been more hurt than angry. He’d looked at Ben as a son, and the stab to the back was intensified by his trust and affection for him.
To add insult to injury, Ben had been trying to buy Byrnes and Company for the last few years. Herb had politely declined over and over again, but that never deterred Ben from trying.
This new tactic of telling their customers that the Byrnes brothers were selling the company was just low. She didn’t quite know how to handle it. Did Ben know something she didn’t? After all the years of service, she couldn’t see that happening. Even if they wanted to sell, their mother would have stopped them from doing anything that reckless. At least that was the reasoning she’d decided to hang her hat on.
She’d finally persuaded Doug to stay with Byrnes. She’d eventually offered a guarantee that things would not change, not to mention a generous discount. She knew she’d gone out on a limb to offer that pledge, but she didn’t see any other way.
She couldn’t understand what was going on with Ben these days. That piranha had always been out for Byrnes’s clients, but now he had Byrne and Company’s intellectual property—the jewelry designs. She’d received three concerned voicemails this morning from clients telling her that Ben was hounding them for their business. She’d also received two calls tha
t clients were leaving Byrnes and Company altogether.
Something fishy was happening and she needed to figure it out before Ben put them out of business. The idea of a leak passed through her mind. Who would do such a thing, though? Adam? Dale? No. No matter what her feelings were when it came to the brothers, she knew neither one would stab their father in the back by cavorting with the likes of Ben Mooring.
Calmer thoughts overtook her and she shook her head in disbelief. There must be another answer. Even that goofball, Dale, wouldn’t sell out the old man like that. It wasn’t in his nature.
And Adam? Just thinking of Adam put her back in The Mallord hotel’s bed with Adam’s mouth, hands and…oh, my… The heat crawled up her spine. She was getting hot just thinking about that man.
Not good. Definitely not good at all.
She made her way down bustling Michigan Avenue. She had to admit, the meeting with Kaminski was convenient. She didn’t want it to look like she was avoiding Adam. She couldn’t decide which problem she wanted to tackle first— confronting Ben or talking to Adam. Neither sounded appealing.
She didn’t know what to expect from Adam. He might stumble over his words, embarrassed that he slept with a commoner; or he might just ignore her and the fact that anything ever happened.
She wasn’t sure which would hurt more—well, probably the commoner scenario, but the other one pretty much sucked too. Tears stung the back of her eyes as anger nipped at her heels. Either way, she was a mistake that would need to be dealt with. She hated being a mistake. She hated being his mistake.
She slowed, shuffling her feet. Confronting him while she was so volatile was never a good thing. She needed to get her head back on track before she tackled the emotional roller coaster that was Adam Byrnes.
As she approached the Byrnes and Company building, she remembered her ailing car. The flat tire had yet to be fixed. She’d thought about coming by and dealing with it over the weekend, but didn’t want to chance a meeting with Adam. Pathetic. She could practically hear women’s-libbers all over the world screaming in her ear. “What kind of woman backs down from a fight?”
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