by Linda Kage
“Uh.” Isobel darted a glance to the place where Kaitlynn was hiding before guiltily jerking her attention back to Mr. Suit. “Sure. In the back?”
He started to nod his approval and even waved a respectful farewell to Shaw until something on the countertop caught his attention, waylaying him.
I glanced down just as he pointed to the bundle of cookies that had been wrapped in a clear plastic bag with gold swirling designs on it.
“Wait. Where did you get those?” His voice was sharp, almost accusative.
“Um.” Shaw looked distinctly guilty as he fumbled to think up a smart, believable lie.
But Mr. Suit didn’t wait for an answer. “Kaitlynn was here,” he surmised. “When was Kaitlynn here? Wait, you actually know Kaitlynn? How do you know Kaitlynn?”
At a loss for words, Shaw just gaped at him, so Camille cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but did you say Kaitlynn? You mean that pretty blonde, long hair, with the perfect amount of wave in it? About my height? Blue eyes? Awesome shoes?”
Mr. Suit whirled toward her so abruptly she seemed to lose her nerve. Stammering, she added, “Yeah, uh, yeah. She was in here a minute ago. You just missed her.”
“She was? Which way did she go?”
Camille seemed too caught up in his handsome thrall to remember how to talk, so I pointed back toward the exit. “She went that way.”
The distraction worked perfectly. Mr. Suit shot his attention toward the door, and then he left, seemingly determined to hunt Kaitlynn down and calling, “I’ll be right back,” as he went.
“And...” Shaw announced as soon as the door closed behind him. “He’s gone.”
Kaitlynn popped to her feet, appearing from behind the bookshelf—floor dust hugging her from head to toe—and flashed us an uneasy but grateful smile.
“Okay,” I announced. “This is one story I gotta hear, because let me tell you, honey, that was one fine business suit.”
“That was one fine butt,” Camille added next to me, fanning herself.
“That…” Isobel heaved out a heavy sigh across the counter from us. “That was my brother.”
“Brother?” Kaitlynn whispered in horror as she spun to face Isobel. “No.” She gaped at the flower shop owner a second longer before her eyes widened. “Oh my God,” she whimpered, backing away as if Isobel was suddenly contagious. “You are his sister. You really are, aren’t you?”
Isobel merely shook her head, smiling out her confusion. “How do you know Ezra?” she asked before her expression fell. “Oh, Lord. Please don’t tell me he’s been giving you unwanted attention.”
“What? No!” Kaitlynn cried before flushing hotly. “I mean, it totally wouldn’t be unwanted if he were. Which he’s not, because why—why would he give little ol’ me any attention? I’m no one.”
I snorted. “I think the girl doth protest too much.”
Camille bumped her elbow into mine and agreed with a nod. “Definitely.”
Kaitlynn scowled at us, which made me and Camille grin back knowingly.
“Yeah, no one buys the theory that he’s not interested in you,” Shaw mused, glancing toward the entrance. “He seemed too desperate to catch you. You’re definitely not no one to him. I think we’re all just curious as to why he’s so intent to track you down.”
“Probably to cuss me out some more,” Kaitlynn moaned despondently, only to realize her answer merely made us more curious, so she sighed and waved a hand. “I’m kind of his least favorite person at the moment.”
Shaw snorted. “Not unless your name’s Lana Judge.”
When Kaitlynn winced, I frowned.
“But, wait,” I spoke up, shaking my head in confusion. “Isn’t that your name?” When Kaitlynn, Shaw, and Isobel whirled toward me as if I were insane, I cleared my throat and immediately revised. “I mean, the Judge part. Not Lana. She’s Kaitlynn Judge,” I told the others, only to turn back to Kaitlynn. “Who’s Lana Judge? Do you go by Lana instead?”
“No!” she shrieked, horrified. “Good God, no. I go by Kaitlynn. Or Kait. Or Kaity.”
“Wait.” Isobel stepped curiously forward, blinking strangely at Kaitlynn. “Your surname is Judge? Judge as in JFI, Judge Fashions Industry, the company my family owns half of, the one my brother—Ezra—is the co-CEO of?”
Kaitlynn winced and nodded as if guilty.
“Holy shit,” Shaw murmured. “Are you—no. That would be too crazy. You’re not Lana’s daughter, are you?”
“Of course not,” Kaitlynn instantly denied, only to slump her shoulders and admit, “I’m her stepdaughter.”
“Oh,” Shaw and Isobel said in unison before both taking a single, leery step away from her.
Whoa, who the fuck was this Lana Judge character to freak them out like that?
It was Camille, though, who came right out and asked, “Who’s Lana Judge?”
“She runs half of Judge Fashions Industry while Isobel’s brother runs the other half,” Shaw answered, “and from the way Ezra talks about her, she’s the devil incarnate.”
Kaitlynn nodded miserably. “That’s actually an apt description.”
“Wow.” I blew out a low whistle, knowing a woman just like that. “If Kaitlynn Judge—the bearer of all things positive and perky and bright—is calling someone evil, then they’re damn evil.”
Kaitlynn immediately winced and slunk deeper into herself. “Ugh. Now I feel bad. Lana’s really not so awful,” she started, though we could all tell she didn’t believe what she was saying at all.
Camille patted her on the back sympathetically. “It’s okay not to like someone.”
Smiling gratefully, Kaitlynn reached for Camille’s hand to thank her, only to become distracted by a sudden thought.
Turning back to Isobel, she cried, “Hey! You’re his sister. You can answer my question. You know that Maleficent costume you made Ezra wear to the Halloween party at work because he lost a bet to you? He said it was your second choice. But he refused to tell me what your first was. So, please—please, I gotta know what you originally wanted him to wear that night.”
As Isobel slowly said, “You know about that bet?” I nodded to myself and blew out a relieved breath.
Because, whew, thank goodness Kaitlynn had been at some Halloween party with this Ezra guy on Saturday and not at home. No wonder why she hadn’t answered the door after I’d frantically knocked on it for what felt like forever. She hadn’t even been there. That actually made me feel tons better.
Suddenly, in the middle of whatever Isobel and Kaitlynn where saying to each other, Shaw pointed at Kaitlynn and shouted, “Holy shit! You’re the yellow Power Ranger.”
Kaitlynn winced. “What—how did you know that?”
With a sigh, I clapped my hands to get their attention. When everyone glanced curiously at me, I motioned between Camille and myself, explaining, “Yeah, we’re lost over here. We all started this conversation together, so you can’t just go off and leave us out of what sounds like the most interesting part. Now. What the hell are you guys talking about with Halloween and Maleficent and yellow Power Ranger costumes?”
“Oh, that’s easy to explain,” Shaw answered. “Nash—er, Ezra—Iz’s brother, threw a Halloween party at JFI, the company—”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved a hand. “The company he runs with Kaitlynn’s evil stepmother. I got that part.”
“Right. Well, he went as Maleficent—because Iz and I made him wear that costume after he lost a bet to us—” Shaw shared a brief smile with his other half before turning back to me and Camille. “And he met a mysterious woman dressed as the yellow Power Ranger there. They hit it off, made out in the company gardens, and then she took off before he learned her name.”
“Wow,” Kaitlynn said in a small voice. “Ezra really told you everything, didn’t he?”
“No, he told me,” Isobel answered dryly. “I’m Ezra’s confidante. This one…” Nudging Shaw in the ribs, she rolled her eyes. “Just has a nasty habit of eavesd
ropping.”
“Truth,” Shaw said, unrepentantly. “Except the last time he talked to us—er, to Isobel—about you, he still had no idea who you were. I take it he knows now, since he recognized your, uh, cookies and called you Kaitlynn.”
Closing her eyes, Kaitlynn clutched her head and confessed. “He does. And he didn’t like learning I was the stepdaughter of his nemesis. So, now do you see why I ran off as soon as I realized who he was that night? I knew he wouldn’t like learning my connection to Lana. As soon as I found out who he was, I knew. And I swear, I didn’t know it was him in that courtyard before we started talking. Except, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t believe me. That’s basically what he told me this morning, anyway, when I finally confessed who I was. He thinks I knew all along and that I’m somehow in league with Lana and therefore must be up to something tricky and bad to hurt him. So, yeah, in his eyes, I’m the anti-Christ. Just like my stepmother.”
“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” I argued. “You’re the epitome of goodness and kindness. You’re the only one in the building who leaves Christmas cards and treats in our mailboxes. And the day we moved into the building, you helped us carry boxes inside, then entertained my little brother for hours while we unpacked shit. How could anyone believe anything even remotely nefarious about you?”
Camille nodded her agreement. “The way Gran tells it, you’re so sweet the freaking sun shines because you smile.”
“Okay, that’s a little farfetched,” Kaitlynn grumbled, beginning to blush hard. “I’m not anything special.”
“Hey, if Gran likes you, then you’re cool,” Camille said in a stern way as if to warn everyone not to disagree with her grandmother’s hallowed opinion.
Before Kaitlynn could argue the point, the door opened again, setting off the bell.
I turned to find that Mr. Suit—aka Ezra—had returned.
He looked at Kaitlynn as if she were the only person on the planet. Her very presence seemed to captivate everything about him. If it weren’t so sickeningly sweet and so dang romantic, it would’ve been insulting how he completely ignored the rest of us.
The two exchanged cutesy lines, and he stepped toward Kaitlynn as if he was going to sweep her off her feet and carry her away into the sunset to live out their happily ever after right then, while she practically vibrated with eagerness to be hauled off in his arms.
But, nope, I wasn’t having any of that until I knew for sure this guy was going to treat my home girl right.
Stepping between them to interrupt their Hallmark moment just to make sure it wasn’t some kind of ruse on his part, I said, “You’re not going to cuss her out, are you? Because let me tell you one thing, buddy. Kaitlynn did not know who you were when you two met in that courtyard on Halloween.”
Ezra jerked to a halt and blinked at me as if I’d lost my mind for even suggesting such a thing. Or maybe he was trying to figure out who the hell I was. In either case, he whirled toward Kaitlynn, rasping, “You told them?”
“No.” She crossed her arms self-consciously over her chest. “You told. Your sister. Who allowed this guy to eavesdrop on you…” She pointed Shaw’s way. “And then he went and spilled it to everyone and their dog.”
“She’s totally exaggerating,” Shaw whispered loudly. “I didn’t tell anyone’s dog.”
Ezra sent him a short glare before glancing at his sister and sighing. Then he turned back to Kaitlynn. “I apologize. That wasn’t very well done of me to spread gossip that way. Knowingly or otherwise.” He shot another short glare Shaw’s way.
And just like that, Kaitlynn melted. “It’s fine,” she answered, clearly as much under his spell as he was under hers. They kept talking it out, making up, and realizing Ezra was totally not upset with Kaitlynn for being the stepdaughter of his hated co-CEO.
When he realized the rest of us were openly listening in on their conversation, he stepped toward Kaitlynn, touching her elbow so he could murmur, “Can we talk? Alone.”
I swear, the sun damn near twinkled from Kaitlynn’s eyes as she nodded. “My apartment’s close. We can go there.”
And so the two left together, taking all the juicy drama and excitement with them. As soon as the door closed after their departure, Camille glanced at me. “Wanna bet on how much they actually talk at her place?”
“Hell no,” I muttered. “He’s probably already got her panties off.”
As we shared a knowing laugh, Isobel’s strangled cough reminded us we were talking about her brother.
Whoops. We sent her an apologetic wince and promptly booked it out of Rosewood together.
Once on the street, Camille tucked my bouquet that Kaitlynn had shoved at her earlier into her new basket she’d just purchased and shrugged merrily. “Hmm. I guess I get the flowers after all. Gran will love them.” Then she smiled at me brightly. “I was headed to go visit her now, actually. Want to walk to your building together?”
And so I walked back home with Camille, not sure if my visit to Rosewood had helped me solve my dilemma with Diego in any way, but thinking hmm, maybe it’d helped me make a new friend.
I hoped so, anyway. Camille seemed cool.
Chapter 11
Hayden
I stayed off Lana’s radar for three days after my failed attempts to find the proof I needed to destroy her. That gave my private investigator more time to gather all the information we needed to turn Fin Tin in to the authorities. So I had an appointment with a detective at the police department this very afternoon after work.
With the evidence I had for him, there was no way he could be a good cop and not pursue the issue. He’d at least try to contact Finley. And if he did that, Finley would no doubt roll over on Lana and reveal her part in all this. Before that happened, however, I wanted to have at least another true search through her things to see if I could find as much proof as I could about her involvement in any misdeeds.
My biggest obstacle was finding the time to search.
She hadn’t seemed to realize I’d been the one rummaging through her desk on Saturday, so I still had a key to her place. I just needed to wait for the right opportunity to visit again, when she wasn’t home.
It’d have to be during office hours, so I could be assured she’d be away at JFI. But that also meant I’d have to leave work for a while. And this week, with the big portfolio presentation on Friday coming up, my time at JFI was swamped. I could maybe only slip in an hour or so of hunting time, which wasn’t nearly enough to complete a thorough search.
Dammit.
A ding from my computer alerted me to an incoming email message. I glanced up, frowning when I found it was from Brick. Strange. He didn’t send me emails. He was much more the face-to-face-contact kind of person and usually just walked down the hall to visit whenever he wanted to talk.
I opened the message, startled to find another surprise. There was a shoe design attached with a brief note from my brother, saying he’d come up with a shoe idea and thought I might be interested in it.
Since Brick headed the Purses department, he was by no means a shoe expert. Shoes were my area. So I was doubly curious to see what he thought signified as a decent shoe.
Opening the attachment, I lifted my eyebrows, intrigued by the initial overall look. Very eye-catching. And current.
I sat back in my chair and tapped a couple fingers against my chin, taking in more detail while considering cost, production, comfort, practicality. The silver rivets definitely added aesthetic appeal, but located where they were, would they bite into the ankle and induce blisters?
Every angle needed to be deliberated.
Picking up a pen, I clicked it repeatedly, thinking about production next. Would the supplies be too pricey to make these shoes JFI-worthy as well as affordable and therefore accessible to a larger bandwidth of customers? Hmm. I did a quick tally in my head and decided, yes, this shoe was definitely doable.
I hit print on the picture, and as soon as my printer spit it out, I snagged
the page and popped up from my chair to leave the office. Seconds later, I was knocking on Brick’s door.
The walls were made of glass so I could surmise through the window-blind slats that he had company, but I paid no attention to who it was as I opened the door and entered.
Pausing when I saw Ezra Nash—Lana’s co-CEO of JFI as well as my direct supervisor—and a kneeling Kaitlynn in the room, I arched a brow at Brick’s hand, which was on top of Kaitlynn’s head as if he’d just pushed her down there.
My brother huffed out a relieved breath. “Oh,” he said, removing his hand from her head. “It’s you.”
Kaitlynn scowled at him as she surged upright and dusted her knees off.
No idea what that was about, but with Brick involved, it could be anything.
I shrugged it off and held up the printout, demanding, “Who really came up with this shoe design?”
Brick sniffed, acting innocent. “What’re you talking about? I told you in the email. I did.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes as I answered, “And I know when you lie, Broderick. You didn’t make this.”
“Yes…” Brick stepped closer, widening his eyes as if trying to convince me with his big-eyed stare. “I did.”
Lord, he would never grow up, would he?
“No. You didn’t. And what the hell is Kaitlynn doing in your office?” I glanced toward Nash with slightly narrowed eyes but didn’t question his presence. He actually worked on this floor and was Brick’s direct supervisor, while Kaitlynn’s office was in the basement, and she worked under Lana.
“Oh!” Brick brightened, flashing me a grin. “I hired her as my secretary after our dear mother fired her.”
Wait. What?
“Lana fired her?” I repeated incredulously.
Why was this news to me? I was usually privy to every nasty thing Lana did against Kaitlynn. Shit, had I lost my trusted status with her? If she went rogue and relieved Kaitlynn of her volunteer duties without bragging about it to me first, what else had she done that I wasn’t aware of?