He looks away before mumbling something that I only catch pieces of. I’m beginning to think he’s got a death wish, because what other excuse can there possibly be for him to continue to jerk my chain? Before I can further plot his death, he appears to grow a pair and sits up straighter. His voice is shaky when it comes out, but at least I can understand it this time. “Her social security number belongs to someone who died in a car accident five years ago. The information has been tweaked, but Liza Malone is dead. Her driver’s license is also linked to the same person. I haven’t finished going through everything yet, but I feel certain I’ll find that to be the case with most everything else.”
I’m stunned as I collapse back in my chair. Who in the hell has been working for me, because apparently, it’s not who I thought it was. What reason could there be for this type of elaborate cover-up other than deliberate deception? If not for her being spotted at Hunter Wrenn’s, I might suspect some kind of witness protection program. But not now. I may not see Wrenn as a threat, but there’s no such thing as a coincidence, especially if a man you’ve wronged is involved. My gut clenches as the unwanted image of Liza as Hunter’s lover fills my mind. What other possible reason could there be? “I want you to refocus your attention on Hunter Wrenn. He’s the key here. If we sift through his background, I feel certain we’ll also have the answers we need about Liza. I want to know everything you can dig up on him, especially in the time right before Liza came to work for me. And make damn sure she doesn’t leave home without being followed. I want answers—yesterday—so don’t even think of going home until you’ve got something concrete for me.”
“Yes, sir.” He nods as he gets quickly to his feet. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.”
After he walks out, I pick up the phone and place a call to the one man I know is likely to uncover information quicker. “Quinn,” I hear as my son-in-law answers.
“How are my daughter and granddaughter?” I ask without exchanging pleasantries. This is the relationship we’ve always had, and it works for us.
“You see Lia about as often I do,” he says sarcastically. “But they were both fine at breakfast a few hours ago. So what can I do for you? I assume this isn’t just a wellness check.”
“Smartass,” I mutter ruefully. He’s an insolent shit, but I couldn’t have picked a better husband for the daughter I hadn’t known existed until a few short years ago. Since Lucian’s investigators managed to put the pieces of Lia’s past together, I hope they can do the same with Liza and Hunter. So, without further delay, I explain the situation and gather by his indrawn breath that he suspects this won’t end well.
“Damn. Liza?” he asks in a stunned voice. “She’s been with you forever, hasn’t she? Lia really likes and trusts her.”
“She’s well respected at Falco,” I agree. “I’d never have guessed that she wasn’t who she pretended to be, and I consider myself a good judge of character.”
“Something doesn’t add up.” Lucian doesn’t believe in coincidences any more than I do, and that’s why I called. He understands threats, and when to look for one, and when not to.
“Agreed,” I say dryly. He laughs. “Lia says I always believe the worst, so I’ve been trying to be more positive, but it never pans out. This is the world we live in. And when you have anything in life, there’s always someone hiding in the dark that wants to take it away. We can’t afford to think otherwise.”
“The fact that Lia can still see the good in people after going through everything she has is a testament to the person who she is.” My daughter lived through years of abuse at the hands of her mother and stepfather, but she survived and came out on the other side stronger than should be possible. I couldn’t be prouder of the woman she is. I only wish I’d been there when she needed me. But I’d made damn sure that they could never hurt her again.
“You’re right,” Luc says proudly. He loves his wife and doesn’t care who knows it. I’ll never have to worry about kicking his ass for screwing around on her, because she is his life. He’s so besotted he couldn’t make it without her by his side. And for one moment, my heart twinges, and I feel envy that I’ll never know that type of love. I let myself develop feelings for Liza and look how well that’s turning out. No, I simply need to stick with fucking when the urge hits and leave the emotional attachments to those who can afford them.
“So you’ll have someone investigate?” I ask, ready to end the call and brood in silence.
“Yeah. I’ll have Max put his guy on it. I’ll expect something soon.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” I say before disconnecting. My head is reeling, and I’m so fucking angry that I’m on the verge of feeling out of control. I know I need to wait until I have something concrete to go on, but the urge to go to Liza and demand answers is overwhelming. I don’t believe she’ll hold out on me if I confront her. I get to my feet and begin pacing my office. I’m buzzing with wild adrenaline that demands an outlet. I want to tear someone apart. How fucking dare she deceive me? If she were anyone else, she’d be as good as dead. The thought no sooner crosses my mind than I discount it. Fuck that, there will be no easy way out for her. She stood right here in my office months ago and all but begged for a relationship. Thinking I was saving her soul, I turned her away. Well, apparently hers is just as black as my own so all my good intentions are no longer valid. I’ll make sure she regrets ever wanting that. Hell, she’ll fucking wish she was never born. I’ll ruin her life and Hunter Wrenn’s. It will be easier if she is in love with the bastard. She’ll be willing to do whatever it takes to protect his sorry ass. Either way, it doesn’t really matter to me. She sealed her fate the moment she walked into Falco under false pretenses. Now I need to know exactly what else she’s been involved in. I know I should wait, but fuck it. I can get further in person than all the investigators behind the scenes. So I quickly shut down my computer and grab my cell phone from my desk. Kara has already gone for the day, which I count as a stroke of good luck. She’d take one look at me and know something wasn’t right. Damn, I love my family, but they were meddling pains in the ass sometimes. And you can’t simply kill them. You have to live with it.
I don’t bother calling for my driver. Instead, I make my way to the underground garage where my personal cars are kept and ask Denny for the key to my Aston Martin Vanquish. Yeah, the older guy in a sports car is a bit of a stereotype, but if the car costs more than three hundred thousand, that puts you in a whole different category than a dude driving a Corvette while wearing a gold medallion. Tonight, I need to burn off some excess energy before I see Liza or whoever the hell she is. And driving fast is one way to do it. Asheville has plenty of backroads where you can plunge to your death with one false move, and I’m in the mood to try them all. If I live through it, then the urge to go strangle my former assistant will have either passed or I’ll at least be calm enough to let her live a life of torture. Fuck, I do sound like someone from The Sopranos at times. For a moment, I want to share the joke and the laugh with the traitorous bitch, but I realize with a pang that’ll never happen again. The relationship between us has been forever altered. Even if she’s innocent of a serious infraction against me, she’s still guilty of lying, and I have no room in my life for someone I can’t trust. Plus, there are no innocent scenarios that require you to assume another person’s identity. No, she is in this up to her pretty little neck, and I simply want the fucking dots connected for me now. It’s absurd that I must demand answers from her instead of having people on my payroll provide them, but apparently, Falco still has a few incompetent people on staff. I’ll be rectifying that problem soon enough. I think briefly about calling Pete and filling him in on what I’ve learned, but I hesitate. He’s always liked Liza, and he’ll be conflicted. He and I were raised in a world where you did what you had to do whether it was distasteful or not. But I know it’s gotten harder for him to deal with our past sins, and I don’t want to heap new ones on top of them. He deserv
es the life he has now. I’ll at least spare him for as long as possible. That’s the dynamic between us. I can count on him to have my back in any situation, but I try to shield him from the shit show that occasionally lands on our doorstep.
Before I know it, an hour has passed, and I’m at Liza’s. It’s early evening, and I have no idea if she’s home, but I’m prepared to wait it out if I have to. I stick a finger over the peephole and ring the bell. If she’s smart, she’ll at least question who’s there, but that’s not the case. We’re both blinking in surprise when the door is wrenched open and an irritated voice says, “That’s so not funny, Jacey. I thought this discussion was—” She finally stops her tirade long enough to notice that I’m clearly not who she was expecting. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water before she finally squeaks out, “Lee, what’re you, um… doing here?” She’s uncomfortable now, downright nervous. Her hands flutter to her hair, and she attempts to smooth the tangled strands into some type of order. She’s wearing black pants that fit like a second skin and a T-shirt several sizes too big. The fact that I think briefly that she’s never looked more beautiful just pisses me off further. I must get past this attraction I’ve always had for her. Nothing can ever come of it—especially now.
Without answering her question, I push past her into the foyer before she can panic and attempt to close the door in my face. “I was in the neighborhood,” I begin pleasantly, almost believing it myself. “I remembered you lived here, and thought I’d drop by and see how you’ve been.” She closes the door behind her and approaches me warily until we’re once again looking at each other.
For some absurd reason, she’s always been self-conscious about her body, and I see that hasn’t changed. She pulls the shirt down further until it’s brushing her knees. She’s not model-thin and probably never will be, but it only adds to her appeal. She has curves where a woman should have them, and it’s made it damn hard to keep my hands to myself in the past. That plump ass of hers has been the inspiration behind more jack off sessions than I care to admit. “Er… what a surprise. I was just going to bed. Well, actually I was already there, but I got up for a glass of water and heard the doorbell.”
I look at my watch, then back at her. “You go to sleep before seven? Do you have to get up early?”
She flushes, then shakes her head. “Not really. I’m a little tired. It’s been a long day. I’ll probably sleep late tomorrow as well. It’s not like I have anything to get up for since—”
Once again, her sentence ends abruptly. It’s not an unusual habit for her. I’d gotten used to her thinking aloud at the office in much the same manner. The difference was that I could usually read her thoughts, and it didn’t bother me. We no longer have that connection so it’s more of a challenge. “I thought you had a job now,” I prompt, feeling irritated for some reason. Apparently, I’m still a little sore than she quit Falco so abruptly for no good reason—or so I thought. How the fuck did this happen? I can’t think of any other time when someone slipped so seamlessly through my wall of defenses. Both physical and emotional. But new walls can always be erected, and seeing her tonight won’t change that. I need to know how… I need to know why.
She looks at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Another classic Liza move. She did that when our conversation became uncomfortable and she wanted to change the subject. Too fucking bad, sweetheart. “Oh, I do,” she says weakly. “I’ve really been enjoying it. But… I think I have the rest of the week off.”
“You don’t know?” I ask, injecting just the right note of doubt into my voice.
Suddenly, she yawns loudly, not bothering to muffle the sound. I can’t tell if it’s real or fake, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving. Maybe she’ll crack faster if she’s sleepy. “Sorry about that,” she says sheepishly. “It was good to see you again. I’m glad you stopped by.” She’s lying through her teeth, but I must give her points for trying to politely dismiss me. Not gonna happen, though.
Again, I step around her and find myself in a comfortable living room. I take a seat on her sofa and hear something crinkle beneath me. Moving my leg, I pull out a brown wrapper and inspect it. M&M’s. A grin tugs at my lips at the mortified look on her face. She’s always had a sweet tooth. I lay the empty pack on the table, and she stands there uncertainly, darting her gaze from me to it as if wanting both of us gone so badly. “So other than working, what have you been doing since leaving Falco? Anything new?” She’s unnerved by my attempt at small talk because she knows it’s not something I engage in. I’m a very direct man, and I hate wasting time with unnecessary words. She finally lowers herself to the edge of a chair the farthest away from me. One sudden move and she’ll jump through the fucking ceiling. As angry as I am, this is faintly amusing. I’m torturing her by being nice. Imagine the possibilities should I unleash my evil side. But fuck if I’m worried about her seeing that tonight. Maybe that’s what she knows best.
“Um, no,” she mutters. “Same ole, same ole. Nothing exciting here. Well, unless getting a new dishwasher counts. Rufus was downright riveted by it.”
Who the fuck is that? “Rufus?” I ask, keeping the same pleasant tone. Why was there no mention of this person in the last report? Oh right, I employ a bunch of idiots. How did I forget that? She could be screwing the entire city, and I’ll never know about it. Jenkins had better pack his shit; he’s history as soon as I leave here.
I’m still steaming over the other man’s incompetence when her words register. “He’s my cat. I guess I never mentioned him at the office before.”
The game that I was enjoying has lost its appeal. She looks at if she’s going to bolt at any moment, so I need to decide how to proceed. Fuck, this would be a lot easier if it were anyone but her. This is what happens when you allow yourself to develop feelings for others. You become a fucking indecisive pussy.
LIZA
What is he doing here? I try to keep my expression neutral as my thoughts race frantically. Something is definitely off. Lee isn’t the “I was in the neighborhood” type. He doesn’t do anything without a purpose. And considering he didn’t rip my clothes off when I opened the door, I feel safe in ruling out a booty call. I can’t see him begging me to come back to work for him, so that doesn’t leave many options. And the few I can think of aren’t good—at all. Heck, if I thought I had a shot at making it, I’d run for the door right now. He is seriously giving me the creeps. It’s been several minutes since I explained who Rufus is, and he hasn’t said another word. He just continues to stare at me. “So how’s Kara doing?” I ask to break the uncomfortable silence.
He shrugs his broad shoulders, but a smile softens his lips. Oh my God, that mouth. Down, girl, down. I force myself to blink and attempt to stop drooling over my former boss. “She’s good. She’s been giving me hell for going through another assistant, but it’s not my fault that they’re all completely incompetent.”
I try not to show it, but I’m thrilled at that. It’s been agony for me to think of someone taking my place in the company—and with Lee. I study my nails as I ask, “So how many exactly have there been since I left? Assistants, I mean,” I add quickly. I certainly have no desire to hear about the number of women warming his bed. He probably can’t count that high.
“A few,” he says vaguely. “No one has any type of work ethic anymore. And the few who managed to show up on time couldn’t take direction if you stapled a detailed list to their damn forehead. Do you know that I asked one of them for the Camden file, and she came into my office with a purse the size of the Grand Canyon and dumped it out on my floor? When she started crawling around down there going through the debris, I asked her what she was doing and she said that she didn’t know what name brand her nail file was, but she figured it would do the job.”
I can’t help it. I laugh until tears are rolling down my face. I can so easily imagine Lee’s expression when that happened. “That’s hilarious,” I manage to croak out as he shakes his head at me. When
I get myself under control, I ask, “So I take it that she didn’t make it long after that?”
“Hell no,” he grunts. “As soon as she put all that shit back into her bag, I had HR inform her that her services were no longer needed. I was half afraid that she’d find that damn nail file and stab me with it, but according to Pete, who was close by, she actually hummed on her way out.”
“She was probably thrilled to get away from you,” I joke. Lee wasn’t an easy man to work for, especially if you couldn’t read his mind. Luckily, we connected from the beginning, and it had never really been a problem for me.
“I just want people to do what I pay them for,” he states, making no apologies. And why should he? Yes, he can be a bit abrupt, but he works just as hard, if not harder, than anyone there. Plus, the pay scale at Falco is far better than most businesses in North Carolina.
“I agree with you,” I say softly. Then as quickly as the moment of familiarity that only comes from working together is there, it’s gone, and I’m on edge once again. I want to know why he’s here, yet I’m terrified to ask. But this strange impasse that we’re at must end, and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to do it. Therefore, it’s up to me. So, squaring my shoulders, I ask point-blank, “Why are you really here, Lee? You and I both know this is completely out of character for you.”