by Linda Kage
Feeling as if time was of the essence, even though I was sure the party would go on for hours, I hurried to the door that led into Lana’s office. Once inside, I flipped on the light, figuring if the outer office light was on, then it wouldn’t hurt to turn this light on as well. Besides, if I was caught now, I’d look more suspicious nosing around in the dark.
I tried her filing cabinets first, opening all four drawers and skimming over the file tabs. Then I turned to her desk. Fastidious when it came to paperwork, Lana had nothing left out and exposed on top. I moved behind it and tugged on the first drawer.
Locked.
Not a problem. I’d learned to pick cheap locks like this before I was twelve. Lana always thought she was so clever whenever she took something away from Brick and me, then locked it away in a desk. We used to have competitions over who could jimmy a lock faster.
I was still the reigning champion.
With a little help from two paper clips, I was sliding the drawer open within fifteen seconds. The sight of paper—official-looking documents—caused my heart to leap with excitement. Would it be this easy? The first locked drawer I came across, and boom—there was the proof I needed?
Nope.
Inside lay a heap of boring, legitimate JFI business. Though I did pause long enough to make sure it was actually authentic and not embezzlement, money laundering, racketeering, or any other white-collar crime, I shut the drawer a minute later, re-locked it, and started on the next. At the third drawer, I began to lose a little hope, which ratcheted up the desperation a notch. After learning Fin Tin was alive, everything seemed to jolt into hyper speed. I wanted the truth now.
“Dammit. Where the hell is it?”
By the fourth and bottom drawer, I was no longer searching neatly through the stacks. I could taste vengeance right there on the tip of my tongue. She had to keep it here at the office. She was just vain and arrogant enough to hide the truth from everyone right under their noses. I swear, Arthur’s real will was just whispering my name, trying to tell me where it was.
When a gasp came from the doorway, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I looked up to spot a shadow moving across the open crack in the doorway. Shit. Someone was out there.
Trying to calm my breathing and the erratic beat of my heart, I hurried around to the front of the desk and then strode to the doorway to pull it open. The latch was just clicking shut to the door that led from the outer office. I dove forward in hot pursuit, wondering who else had been slinking around after hours and seen me. It must’ve been someone else who didn’t belong, otherwise why hadn’t they confronted me and asked what I was doing?
But when I peered out into the darkened corridor, it was abandoned.
Looking one way, then the other, I frowned, sure I’d seen and heard someone. I guess it didn’t matter. I doubt whoever it’d been would rat me out to Lana, unless it was one of her minions she paid extra to skulk around the company and report things back to her.
Shit. It better not have been one of her spies.
If it was, it was too late now. I’d just tell her I was looking for something I thought I’d left behind from the other day when I’d last been in her office, where she’d bitched me out for not supporting her enough when she’d had her latest argument with Nash.
Shaking my head, I shut the door and turned back toward Lana’s office, ready to search every nook and cranny before I left this room. But a red blinking light above the entrance caught my attention.
“Motherfucker,” I hissed. She’d wired the place. No wonder why she hadn’t locked any rooms. The place was booby-trapped with an alarm. I’d probably tripped some signal, which was now sending her an alert, letting her know her private workspace had just been breached.
Time to go.
Getting the hell out of there, I left the office without looking back, lights blaring and everything. Shit. What if there’d been cameras installed and she’d just fucking watched me search her drawers? I wouldn’t be able to explain that. She’d never trust me again. She’d probably take away the keycard I had to her apartment, too, and I’d never get the chance to search there either. Hell, she might fire me from JFI altogether.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” I muttered, running my hand through my hair as I stormed from the building and into the cool, crisp October night.
I’d been so eager and gung-ho, I’d probably just fucked my entire mission. Kaitlynn would never receive her rightful inheritance, Lana would get away with everything, and I’d never learn the truth.
There would be no justice, no salvation, no freedom. No answers. Just more misery and a lifetime of Lana controlling everything.
Arthur was probably shaking his head in shame this very moment from inside his casket.
I’d let him down.
But then, “No,” I growled. No fucking way was Lana winning this.
Jogging to my car, I slid behind the wheel and brought the engine to life.
Whether she knew the culprit to the break-in was me or not, Lana’s first response was going to be to come down here and see what—or if anything—had been taken. That was going to leave her apartment empty for the next hour—or less, but hopefully more. This might be my last opportunity to search her place, in case she was aware that I’d been the one in her office tonight and she did demand I relinquish my keycard to her condo. So, while I still had the means to get in, I was fucking going in.
I was two blocks from Preston Estates when I met her distinctive, little red sports car streaking past, headed in the direction of JFI. In return, I doubted she would recognize meeting my nondescript tan sedan among oncoming traffic; she was in too much of a rush.
Let’s hope she didn’t, anyway.
A smile lit my face. At least my backup plan seemed to be working. Parking on the opposite side of the building from where I knew she typically parked, I pocketed my keys, hurried from my car, and entered the building from the side entrance, where I strode across the red-carpeted floor until I reached her ostentatious, rhinestone-covered door.
Tugging my wallet from the inside of my suit jacket, I slipped my keycard out from behind a credit card and slid it through the door swipe. My muscles tensed, wondering if she’d already changed the locks to deny me access, but then the door beeped and a light flashed green, letting me know I was in.
I released a relieved breath.
Good. Here we go.
I put the key away and slid my wallet back into my jacket, then glanced either way, and for some reason, I backed into the front room to keep an eye on the hallway to make sure no one saw me enter.
Shutting the door, I closed my eyes briefly, thankful this had worked, and then I turned to search the place, only to fall to a shocked halt when I saw the woman standing there in the middle of the living room, gaping at me and wearing a gold ball gown. A very familiar gold ball gown.
She looked surprised, so surprised that she couldn’t seem to even move. Or talk. Her mouth moved without forming words, and her face drained of color.
It took me a moment to recognize her with her hair pulled up into a bun and that familiar dress adorning her body. But when I realized it was Gabby, the woman from Kaitlynn’s apartment building, the one with the little brother—Miguel—or whatever relation he was to her, I froze too.
The woman I’d been daydreaming about for the past two weeks was standing right in front of me? Had I somehow willed her here with my fervent thoughts? Hell, was she even real?
Jesus, of course she was real. What was I thinking? But what in God’s name was she doing in Lana’s apartment? And more bizarre yet, why was she wearing that dress? And why was she clutching a white trash bag to her chest as if she’d just stolen something and had stashed it in there?
Oh shit. My gaze zipped back to her face. She looked guilty as hell, like a burglar who’d just been caught in the act of breaking and entering.
“What the hell?” I said.
Chapter 6
Hayden
>
“I—You—This...” Gabby fumbled a moment before looking at the sack in her hands and gulping in miserable guilt.
“What’s in there?” I demanded, setting my hands on my hips. “You didn’t steal anything, did you?”
“I…” Her eyes were huge as they veered back to me. Then she bobbed her head up and down in confirmation as if her body was answering me without her permission, even as she whispered, “No.”
“You little thief,” I accused softly, striding toward her. This was why I stayed away from women and relationships. Being attracted to someone didn’t make them decent or honest or worth the price of your thoughts. It just made you lose your stupid head and want things you shouldn’t.
“What the fuck did you steal?”
“Nothing!” she screeched.
She didn’t try to dodge away from me until I’d nearly reached her, which was why she was too late when she finally gasped and veered backward, trying to escape me.
I leapt forward and caught her wrist all too easily.
“What—” she started when I hooked an arm around her waist and tugged her flush against me. “Hey, watch it, buddy.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“Let me go.” Struggling to break free, she growled and twisted, but I wasn’t about to lose this match. Locking my arm tight, I reached past her for the sack to see for myself what was inside. I couldn’t believe I’d been daydreaming about a freaking thief.
The wildcat fought back and tried to hold her sack out away from me, except my arm was longer than hers, and it took nothing for me to also gain possession of it.
“No!” She looked up at me, her eyes big and brown, full of fear but also steely determination. “It’s nothing, I swear.”
Just as stubborn and determined as she, I arched an eyebrow. “Nothing, huh?” I tugged and pulled the bag closer. “Then why can’t you show me what’s in there?”
“It’s nothing important!” she cried desperately. “Nothing worth anything, anyway. Please.” She clamped her other hand over mine, refusing to give up her hold.
Pausing at the word please and the frantic way she held on to me, trying to salvage her possessions instead of breaking free and making a mad dash to save herself, I studied her face, momentarily sucked into her beauty.
Shaking her head, she insisted, “I would never take anything valuable.”
But she’d definitely taken something.
My gaze ran down her body. She was so stunning it hurt my throat to breathe when I looked at her. And, in that gown—
I shook my head and gritted my teeth. “And what exactly do you consider valuable? The dress you’re wearing is easily worth fifteen hundred.”
“Dollars?” she wheezed, her eyes growing large. “Holy shit. Who in their right mind would pay that much for a freaking dress?” Looking down at herself, she started to take a step back as if to distance herself from the dress, except it moved with her. Since she was wearing it.
I used that moment of distraction to claim her sack from her, but she felt my attempts and snapped her gaze up.
“No!” she cried again, resisting and pulling the bag back.
But there was no breaking free of me. No matter how much she tugged, she couldn’t get me to loosen my hold, either.
“Let go,” I commanded.
“Fuck you,” she seethed from between gritted teeth. “I worked my ass off for this shit. I’m not leaving without it.”
“You worked for it?” I repeated incredulously. Then I snorted. “Yes, I can imagine breaking in was incredibly exhausting for you. But some people still consider it stealing, sweetheart. So drop the bag.”
“Except I cleaned a goddamn stain on the floor for it,” she argued, glaring at me. “So I actually earned it. Sweetheart.”
Okay, that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. I shook my head. “You did what?”
She sighed as if irritated by my lack of understanding. Then she flailed out her free hand helplessly. “There I was, just walking down the hallway outside this apartment, minding my own business,” she started.
To which I muttered, “I’m sure.”
“I was!” Narrowing her eyes, she continued, “But then the woman who lives here—your wife, or whoever.”
“Not hardly,” I answered dryly.
Sighing out an annoyed frown, she went on again. “Well, whoever she was, she opened the door, mistook me for—for a maid and—”
“A maid?” Pulling back, I scanned her from head to toe and sniffed bitterly. “You?” With a body like hers, she was more suited for a model’s career.
A rosy flush stained her cheeks. Flustered, she stammered a moment before saying, “Well, I wasn’t wearing this at the time.”
“Obviously.” That part I fully believed. “Because it’s not yours.”
I knew for a fact that no one else could own a dress like the one she currently wore. It was the original prototype we’d just created at JFI. The design had recently passed the production stage, and the first release of any copy wouldn’t hit stores until early next year. And it was the only dress I’d ever designed.
Usually, I stuck to my own department and sketched shoes. But for some reason, an idea for this dress had hit me, and I was damn proud of how it’d been accepted by both Nash and Lana for production.
The girl in my arms was literally wearing a one-of-a-kind. So I couldn’t conceal a smirk when her blush darkened as she cleared her throat and quickly glanced away.
“Anyway, where was I?”
“Being mistaken for a maid,” I reminded her helpfully.
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
“Which I still don’t buy,” I added smugly.
She huffed through a growl and bit out, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m half Latino.”
Well, that was random. I shook my head, really confused now. “Your point?”
She lifted her eyebrows meaningfully as if that should suddenly make everything abundantly clear to me. Then she stressed, “My dad’s from Venezuela.”
“Again,” I said, lifting my eyebrows right back at her. “Not seeing a point.”
“Well, maybe it’s also escaped your attention then that every single fucking employee in this bigoted building is of Hispanic descent, but it hasn’t escaped mine. So, why wouldn’t your wicked witch of a lady friend think I was the help?”
“André’s not Hispanic,” I said logically.
“André’s an asshole.”
“French, actually, I believe.”
“Oh my God!” She lifted her hands incredulously. “Are you always this damn annoying?”
Annoying? Huh. “No one’s ever called me annoying before.”
She set a hand on her hip and eyed me dryly. “You must not get out much.”
I almost laughed. But then I paused, trying to remember the last time I’d honestly laughed. Stunned because this little spitfire of a thief had almost made me laugh, I blinked at her in astonishment. Then I shook my head, jostling my head back into the game as I said, “So you were walking innocently down the hall, where you were accosted out of nowhere by some racist stranger who mistook you for a servant, and then what? You figured she deserved to be robbed because she was a bad person, so you broke in after she left to perform your own brand of justice?”
“Well…” She shifted as if uncomfortable, and her gaze went leery with guilt. “Not exactly. You see, she—” Motioning blindly, Gabby waved a hand toward the opening of the hall. “She told me to go inside and clean a stain on her floor.”
“Okay,” I drew out slowly when she didn’t elaborate further. “And then what?”
“Then…” Growing even more agitated, she scowled at me as if blaming me for all her problems before she muttered, “I mean, she left the door wide open for me, so…”
“So?”
“So I went inside and cleaned it.”
“You cleaned it?” I repeated, squinting deeply into her eyes. “The stain? On her floor?”
; “Yes,” she answered, staring right back at me with the same intensity. “That’s what I just said.”
I pulled back, sniffing. “Why the fuck would you clean her floor after she insulted your entire heritage?” I lifted my hands, not believing her bullshit story in the least. “Because I can’t imagine she was polite about her request.”
“Wow.” Lifting her eyebrow as if impressed, she blew out a whistle. “You know her well.”
“You have no idea,” I growled, only to get right back on track. “Where’s this stain?”
“I told you.” She furrowed her brow incredulously. “I cleaned it. It no longer exists.”
Blowing out a breath, I shook my head, impressed by her story. What a clever little liar, inventing a cleaned stain, which in turn would wipe away all evidence that might’ve proven her tale untrue.
So very creative.
But I wasn’t one to give up easily. “How long ago?” I pressed.
“How long ago what?” she asked with a bewildered shake of her head.
“How long ago did you clean this notorious stain? Will the carpet still be wet where you scrubbed so thoroughly, working your ass off to make it disappear?”
“Oh my God, no. You do not scrub carpet stains, honey. That’s like begging them to permanently set in. You blot them.”
“Well then, honey,” I spat back. “Where did you blot the carpet clean?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I just told you. In the hall.”
I splayed out a hand, offering her to lead the way. “Show me.”
“Holy shit. You just don’t give up, do you? Fine. It’s this way.” Then she smirked. “Prepare to be proven wrong.”
When I snorted, she spun away defiantly and started for the hallway. There was a back exit she could access by going further down that hall. I didn’t know if she was aware of it or not, but I wasn’t taking any chances, so I leapt after her and snagged her hand, which caused her to startle in surprise and glance up at me questioningly before she sarcastically sniped, “Wow, I didn’t realize you cared.”
“Always,” I quipped back with an engaging grin, only to take it a step further and draw her fingers to my mouth so I could gently kiss her knuckles, really egging her on.