“Derek has decided that if we don’t save the company, we have nothing to fight for,” Shane says. “But his relationship with Teresa is a potential problem. She’s in love with him, and he at least has some feelings for her.”
“He’s also sleeping with his secretary,” I remind them. “The feelings he has can’t be that profound.”
“I’d point out that he’s my father’s son,” Shane says, “but that’s true of me as well.” He looks at Seth. “What else do I need to know?”
“It’s what I need to know,” he counters. “Any word from Adrian?”
“Not a word,” Shane says, “And I won’t be giving him the reaction he’s seeking, which is me begging him for mercy. He can come to me. He can ask for mercy.”
Cody steps into the room, his expression puzzled, voice low. “Your mother saw images of Ted on TV and started shaking. She insisted on going downstairs for coffee and to get some air. I had one of our men take her.”
I’m reminded of the call I overhead. “This,” I say, “would be a good time for me to talk to Shane alone.”
Shane glances over at me. “You know something about my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Just say it, sweetheart,” he urges. “I’m not a delicate flower.”
Only the truth is that his mother’s shortfalls bother him deeply. Still, time is of the essence, and I push forward. “I overheard her on a phone call. She asked why she wasn’t warned about today and then said she didn’t think she could go through with ‘this,’ whatever that means.”
Shane presses fingers to his temples, while Seth folds his arms in front of him and Cody shows no reaction at all. “The many possibilities this represents are innumerable,” Seth states. “We need to know what Derek knows and then confront her.”
“I’ll talk to both of them,” Shane says.
“Let me talk to her,” I suggest. “If she’s trapped and needs an escape, it won’t come in the form of her angry, scorned son. It’s at least an option.”
“All right,” Shane says. “I’ll talk to Derek first.”
Seth shakes his head. “I’d recommend you talk to Derek while she heads down to talk to your mother. If there’s something else planned, and her comment about not being able to go through with this indicates there is, we need to know what it is and by who.”
Shane looks at me. “He’s right. I’ll text you when I get answers from Derek.”
I nod and walk to the desk for my purse, slipping it back over my head and across my chest. “I’m ready.”
Seth reaches into his pocket and produces a can of pepper spray. “Just in case, I want you to have this. Cody can show you how to use it on the way down.”
“I was a single girl before coming here,” I say, accepting it and slipping it into my purse. “I know how to use it and do the most damage.”
“Do you know how to use a gun?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, offering nothing more, aware that this isn’t the time or place to discuss why I was armed back in Texas long before my family was corrupted by a hacker operation. Instead I say, “I won’t be the girl who went down without one hell of a fight.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EMILY
Cody and I step into the elevator, and we both know enough not to have any conversation of merit with cameras rolling. We face forward, both folding our arms in front of our chests, and he clears his throat, but before the doors shut, Jessica appears and holds the door. “As I thought,” she says, handing me a tissue. “You need this.”
My brow furrows, but I accept the tissue. “I’m not going to cry, if that is what you think.”
“Unless you’re making a fashion statement,” she says, “and Lord knows with my hair extensions, I get it, your lipstick is on your cheek, not your lips.”
I whirl around to look in the mirror, laughing as I confirm that, indeed, I have pink all over the place. “At least it’s me, not Shane,” I say, cleaning myself up.
“He was a mess too when he told me where you were headed,” she says, “which is what alerted me to your potential problem as well. I didn’t think you’d want to talk to his mother in your current state. Aside from the fact that she’s scornful of any hair any of us has out of place, it would have pretty much announced you’d been making out with her son.”
“That would have been bad,” I agree, facing forward. “Thank you.”
“Friends don’t let friends look like they put their makeup on drunk.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I object.
“It was bad, honey,” she says, turning her attention to Cody. “Why didn’t you tell her? You’re supposed to be protecting her, not letting Shane’s mother attack her for having her tongue down her son’s throat.”
I shake my head. “Good grief, Jessica.”
“I was going to tell her,” he replies.
Jessica scowls. “No, you were not.”
The elevator starts dinging over and over, the door jerking against Jessica’s grip. “That means let it go,” Cody informs her. “We need to get downstairs. You’ll have plenty of time to reprimand me later.”
“I don’t reprimand,” she states, clearly missing the invitation I’m certain was in his words. “I simply point out logical conclusions and actions,” she adds, glancing at me. “I was sitting with Shane’s mother when the Ted story came on the news. She started to tremble, like he was her son or something. Like it was personal. Something wasn’t right about it.”
I nod my understanding and she glances at Cody, the two of them exchanging a look I tune out, my mind processing the observations shared with me. Jessica’s astute and observant. If she thinks Maggie’s personally involved, and I’m of the opinion that she is, I’m not going to like the details, which is all the more reason why I have to get Maggie to talk to me.
“I would have told you about the lipstick,” Cody assures me as the doors shut and the car starts moving. “I’m here to protect you, and I will. I have your back. That’s what I’m telling you.”
I glance over at him. “I appreciate that. It’s Shane’s back I’m worried about.”
“We all have his back and we’re one hell of a team, you included.”
“Jessica—”
“Is bossy, arrogant, and beautiful,” he says. “She’s also loyal, but that doesn’t change the reality here. She’s going to have to learn that we Mexican men like to be in charge.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking about his job, or something more personal, but whatever the case, the elevator dings and I laugh. “Good luck with that one.”
He winks at me and holds the door, and really, truly, he’s incredibly charming and good-looking. The kind of man I’d wish for Jessica. Except for one thing, I think, stepping into the corridor, with him by my side. At any moment, he could end up like Ted. But then again, at any moment, I fear Shane could as well. I could too. We all could. And this idea seals my pledge to get the answers I need from Maggie. “She sitting in the bar area,” Cody tells me as we turn left into the main lobby and start walking in that direction, our steps determined, no words spoken.
We turn left again, our path now framed by couches and tables, as well as a bar to our left, but Maggie is nowhere to be found. Cody’s cell phone buzzes and he glances at the screen then at me. “She moved to the back corner of the restaurant, which is all but empty, since it’s midafternoon.”
Midafternoon, I think, as we walk toward the archway leading to the restaurant, wondering how I’ve lost my concept of time today. “Table for two?” the cute, blond twentysomething hostess asks.
“One,” Cody informs her, glancing at me. “There’s no exit inside the restaurant and my presence might intimidate her. I’ll wait here by the door.”
Giving a quick, agreeable incline of my chin, I instruct the hostess that I’m meeting Maggie, and she allows me to find her on my own. Moving through rows of empty tables, I cut left and seek her out, finally locating her hidden in a corner, behind a
large pillar. I approach the table, expecting to find her on the phone. What I find instead is her sitting there, elbow on the table, fingers curled under her chin. She’s also holding a tissue and seemingly oblivious to my approach.
I sit down in the brown leather chair across from her, and she jolts, balling her fist at her chest, mascara smudging the ivory skin just beneath her blue eyes. “You scared me,” she declares, and I don’t miss the absence of coffee on the table, instead noting the presence of whiskey.
“I was worried about you,” I say. “I heard you were rattled by what happened to Ted.”
“Aren’t you?” She downs the amber liquid in her glass and motions to the waitress. “I mean, this is one of Shane’s security people. It hits home.”
“It wasn’t related to us,” I say, watching her closely, looking for a blink, a reaction, but the waitress appears and gives Maggie a reason to focus elsewhere.
“Another, please,” she tells the woman, holding up her glass and then looking at me. “Do you want a drink?”
“No, thank you,” I say. “I still have press and stockholders to manage.”
“Right,” she says, waving off the waitress. That tremble to her hand mentioned to me by Cody and Jessica is easily seen now as she adds, “Of course you do.”
I narrow my eyes at her and then lean forward, softening my voice. “I know we are just getting to know each other, and I don’t want to be presumptive, but you are not yourself. I know you as the queen of the family, always in radiant control. Is this about Brandon Senior’s cancer?”
“You mean the cancer that might or might not kill him in the next two months? No. Why would it be about that?” Her tone is sharp, snappy. Sarcastic. “You know, of course, that my husband keeps his mistress here in this very hotel.” The waitress sets her drink down and then Maggie lifts it. “And yet he wants me to go to Germany with him.”
“Don’t you want to go with him?”
She downs her drink and stares at the empty glass. “I do,” she admits, her tone stark now. “I just want him to want me there.”
“He wants you there. He loves you.”
Her gaze cuts sharply to me. “I wonder if you’ll feel loved when Shane finds a woman on the side.”
“Nastiness is unbecoming,” I say, calling her on her words and shaking off their bite. “Ted’s situation has obviously triggered some sort of emotions in you.” I home in on what I believe to be her guilty conscience. “Are you worried about your own sons being next?”
She pales two shades and sets her glass down. “A mother always worries for her sons.” She stands. “You’ll excuse me, I’m sure. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
I’ve hit the nerve I intended, and now I just need to decide how to use it, but first things first: I open my purse to remove my phone and make sure that Cody warns me if she tries to escape. Better yet, I think, zipping my purse back up, I’ll make sure. I stand and start walking, making fast tracks for the exit, where Cody greets me. “Is she in the bathroom?” I ask, eying the alcove beside the bar where I know it to be.
“She is,” he confirms, “and she was crying.”
I give a quick nod and cut left, walking under the archway and into the ladies’ room, where I find Maggie sitting on a vanity seat immediately to my right. “Oh good gracious,” she exclaims, swiping a tissue over her tear-streaked cheeks. “Can I not get a moment or two alone?”
I walk to her, standing above her. “What did you do?”
She blinks, and unshed tears pool in her eyes. “What?”
“What did you do, Maggie?” I demand, pressing her. Forcing her to face whatever she’s done. “Tell me now before it’s too late. Tell me so we can fix it.”
“We can’t fix it,” she declares. “Ted’s finger is already gone.” She bursts into tears.
Knots form in my gut, and I kneel in front of her, my hands going to her knees. “He’s alive, but he wouldn’t have been if Shane didn’t lay down the law with Martina. Why are you involved with Martina?”
“I can’t tell you. Shane and Derek will hate me.”
“You have to tell me, Maggie.”
“No. No, I won’t.” The words are strong, but she follows them with a sob.
I dig my fingers into her knees. “Pull yourself together,” I command, “and tell me now. You’re strong. You can do this.”
“I’m stupid. And I was lonely. I’d been alone so long and Mike and I just happened. But I don’t love him; I love my husband. I want him to live and I want him—”
“What does this have to do with Martina? And don’t tell me you don’t know who that is, because he’s the one who ordered Ted’s torture.”
“Martina found out about the affair. A man who works for him came to me. Ramon. He was scary. Very nasty and perverted. I thought for sure he’d rape me.”
“He might. He’ll come back. That’s why you have to tell me everything.”
“There’s not a lot to tell. He threatened to tell my husband about Mike if I didn’t help Martina get to your apartment. He said he just wanted to talk to Shane. Just talk. I swear I knew nothing about Ted being kidnapped and hurt. I mean, I met Ted. I distracted him to allow Martina to get by him. I didn’t think there was more to it than that. I just … I was desperate. I didn’t want my husband to live or die from cancer, knowing his wife and his best friend were together.”
“And you and Mike decided the two of you would take over the company?”
“What? No. No, I would never do that. The company is my husband’s and mine, not Mike’s.”
“What about the hostile takeover?” I ask.
“What hostile takeover? By Mike? Are you talking about Mike?” She doesn’t give me time to respond, her torment becoming anger. “That bastard. I’ll kill him. I will kill him.” She hops to her feet, and I follow, my hands going to her arms.
“No,” I say. “You can’t do anything of the sort. We need to get help. Sit, please.”
“No, I—”
“Sit down, Maggie,” I order harshly.
She sinks back onto the chair. “They’re all going to hate me and I was just confused. I love my family.”
I believe her. But I don’t respect her. This isn’t about money and power for her, at least not in the way I feared. I reach for my purse and unzip it, removing my phone. She grabs my hand where I hold it. “What are you doing?”
“Adrian Martina is a dangerous man. Ramon a brutal monster. He will rape you. And they will use you to hurt your family. We need help.”
“Seth,” she says. “Let’s talk to Seth.”
“Maggie,” I say. “We need to tell Shane. He’s the one Martina is targeting.”
“He will never forgive me,” she says, shoving her dark hair behind her ear, her hand and her voice trembling now. “Go to Derek.”
“Shane will forgive you over time,” I say. “I’ll help him. And I’ll help you. But he has to be told what’s going on. I’ll talk to him first. Okay?”
“I don’t want my husband knowing about this. He can’t know, at least not until we know he’s going to make it through this treatment.”
“I’ll talk to Shane, but I think that makes sense. Can I call him?”
“Yes.”
I dial Shane and he answers immediately. “What’s happening, sweetheart?”
“Can you please meet me in the bar?”
“Now?”
“Most definitely now.”
He’s silent for several beats. “I’ll be right there.”
I end the call and refocus on Maggie. “Stay here or go back to your table. I’ll talk to him at the bar and we’ll go from there.”
“Yes.” She grabs my hand. “Thank you.”
There is this desperate fragility about her right now, nothing like the woman I’ve known her to be, or that her sons have known her to be. And I am reminded of my own mother, who became someone I didn’t recognize. I lost the woman who’d been my rock long before she was gone. It hurt. It
made me resentful. And these are things Shane and Derek will feel at the worst possible time. I stand up and walk to the door.
SHANE
I walk through the lobby of the hotel I now call home because of Emily, because of my family, dread in my gut over my mother’s certain betrayal. Seth is by my side, a rock ready to smash my enemies, trust between us that I share with only one other person: Emily. We round the corner to the bar, and I spot Cody and Emily sitting in a corner on an L-shaped couch, but it’s her and her alone who I see. Her who creates that punch in my chest I always feel when I see her. Not so long ago, I believed it to be a deep, clawing, physical need that she stirred in me. Now I know that need is a result of a bond, one part physical and one part something far deeper. A deep connection that I feel with her that I have never felt with anyone before in my life. I want a calmer day when I can make love to her and when I can propose. When I can make her my wife, and know what that means isn’t this life I’m offering her now. Rather one where my enemies are gone and hers are forgotten.
Pulling away from Seth, I approach the couch, while Cody stands, gives me a nod, and leaves Emily and me alone. I claim the cushion catty-corner to her. “Hey,” she says softly, scooting to the edge of her seat, holding her dress primly at her thighs when, not so long ago, I had her alone, dress to her waist. The way I wish I had her now.
“Stop looking like you want to crawl into a hole,” I tell her, my hand settling on her knee. “I already assumed my mother betrayed us before you came down here. I mentally prepared myself.”
“It wasn’t really a betrayal,” she says, her hand covering mine. “More a series of misplaced decisions. Though I think right now, in the heat of everything happening, you’ll see it as a betrayal.”
“Tell me,” I urge.
She inhales and lets it out. “She was an absolute mess when I got down here. I pushed her and she retreated to the bathroom, where I found her in a complete meltdown.”