Protecting His Assets (3 page)

So she listened to Kathy tapping away at her keyboard and reviewed the notes she’d made so far, starting with her research into her client’s past. There’d been a lot of coverage in the papers ten years ago about Nolan Sr.’s death. She’d been in high school then, but the story had been big, and local, and everywhere.

The CFO who’d stolen from Nolan’s company, Jason Fielding, had fled to Colombia. Then all evidence pointed to him dying in a car crash two years later, although the fire had burned up any trace of a body, and there’d been no sign of the stolen money.

The no body thing set off alarm bells for her. April pulled out her cell to call a friend at the Bureau. She explained the reason for her interest in the case and was told that someone matching Fielding’s description had recently been flagged entering the National Bank in Bogota and accessing a safety deposit box registered under what they believed to be an assumed name. So far, there wasn’t enough evidence to warrant seizing the contents, but they were keeping a close eye on the area. “Does that mean Fielding isn’t dead?” she asked.

“Sorry, but all I can say is that the agency has resumed an active investigation of the case.”

She thanked Charlie for his help and said good-bye, but he quickly added, “Hey, when are you coming back to the program?”

She winced. He had been her mentor in the FBI training program, and while he’d been supportive of her need to leave so she could take care of her father when he got sick, he never let her forget that time was ticking by. “Things are still up in the air right now, Charlie.”

“Your dad’s doing better, though, right?”

She wished she could say that everything was fine, and she’d be back at the FBI next month…but it wasn’t going to happen, and she’d known when she made this decision that it would probably be the end of her career as an agent.

She thanked Charlie again and hung up as soon as she could, wondering if Steve Nolan knew about the development in his father’s case, or if he even cared now, ten years after the scandal.

It must have been horrible at the time. The family had lost everything. The company. Their ancestral home. Their money and social positon. The life they led now would still be considered privileged by normal people’s standards, but it wasn’t even close to the kind of life Nolan’s wife and family had been accustomed to when Robert was alive, although Nolan had been successfully making up for it on his own.

He’d still gone to NYU on a football scholarship. In fact, somehow, amid a flurry of episodes involving too much drinking, too many parties, and a ton of women, he had managed to graduate at the top of his class a year earlier than all his classmates. He had become the media’s Cinderella story: a gorgeous guy from one of America’s oldest and richest families stuck in the ash and dust of his former life who’d clawed his way back to the top.

“You’re seriously still here?” April looked up to find him staring down at her. His hair was ruffled and damp from a shower, and he hadn’t bothered to put the tie back on. It was almost impossible to process just how good he looked with one hand in his pocket and one shirt button undone. She resisted the urge to smooth her skirt over her thighs and pat her hair. Maybe a skirt hadn’t been the most practical decision, but her boss had assured her she wouldn’t need to chase anyone down today, and she should go for the inconspicuous look while she had to be with the CEO in his office for the day.

He adjusted the briefcase in his other hand. “Did you sit there all day?” He sounded as if that would have been akin to torture.

She bit her cheek to hold in her response. Patience was a learned attribute that didn’t come naturally for her, but the FBI training had been good for that.

He didn’t wait for her to answer but turned to his secretary with another one of those smiles he seemed to share so freely with everyone, even though there was more strain in his eyes than there’d been earlier. “You shouldn’t be here either, Kathy. It’s after six.”

April tucked her tablet into her bag and stood. Was six late for him? With his reputation for partying, she couldn’t see him being one of those who put in regular nine-to-five hours.

The woman looked at her watch and tsked. “If you hadn’t come out of there just now, I would have stomped in and dragged you out. Revener can wait until Monday you know.”

Was Revener a company? A product? That reminded April that she wanted to address his earlier remark about corporate sabotage. If she was going to investigate the threats against him properly, she would need access to the deals Optimus Inc. might be negotiating and get a list of their corporate competitors.

“Get out of here, and I’ll see you next week,” he said.

“Your mother called twice this afternoon,” Kathy said as she grabbed her purse.

Nolan blinked and turned his back on April. In a lower voice, he asked his assistant a question. She couldn’t hear it, but she understood once Kathy answered him, since she didn’t modulate her response as he had done.

“What do you think she wanted? She asked what your calendar was like for the next two weeks.” Karen grinned and Nolan scowled. “If she’s setting you up again, at least warn me so I’m prepared for the angry phone calls from strange women when you forget your date and stand them up.”

Did he do that often? Forget his dates? What else might he have forgotten? Who might he have snubbed badly enough to want revenge? She filed the possibility away for further contemplation later.

Nolan didn’t defend himself, but he wasn’t happy. Because his mother was setting him up? Or because his assistant had spoken out of turn? Why would he care? It wasn’t as if she wasn’t already aware that he was one of the biggest players in the city.

She had to haul ass to keep up with him as he strolled out of the office to the elevators.

“What was that about?” she asked. He jabbed the button hard and they waited.

“What was what about?”

“You know. Back there with your assistant. You were upset when she told you about the phone call from your mother.” She didn’t think that Steve Nolan’s own mother was stalking him, but she couldn’t know for sure what information might or might not be relevant to the investigation, so she had to ask questions about everything.

Two guys in suits came down the hall toward them, slowing as they also got to the elevator. “It’s none of your business.”

She frowned. “Do you and your mother have—”

He quickly leaned in close, eyes flashing. “Stop right there,” he interrupted in a clipped voice. “Kathy knows better than to talk about my personal life. And if you want to keep this job for more than five minutes, you will also learn that lesson right here, right now.”

Her mouth dropped open. She wouldn’t have thought that the guy whose grinning photo ended up in headlines on a weekly basis would get so prickly about his privacy. Then again, if her picture was being snapped every time she went out in public, she’d probably put on a brave face about it and then let loose with the frustration behind closed doors, too.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have intruded.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as the two men stopped behind them to wait for the elevator. “But that was still harsh.”

The moment lengthened beyond his annoyance, beyond her contract, beyond their differences. His gaze remained intent and direct, focused on her. A stab of awareness hit April’s core, and his eyes flared as if he knew it…right before he put his devil-may-care playboy face back on.

He straightened away from her and grinned at the associates who’d joined them, asking after their day. She took a deep breath and looked up. Her throat tightened as the floors marking the position of the elevator ticked higher and higher. This morning, she’d ridden in it, but then it had been empty.

The door slid open on a glass enclosure full of people ready to head home for the day.

It wasn’t empty now.

She tensed. It wasn’t the height or the idea of putting her life into the hands of a mechanical coffin that bothered her—although she tried not to think about that too closely, either. It was having to stand next to upward of fifteen other people, all of whom were breathing their germs into the confined space, that threatened to make her throat close.

But they were on the second-to-top floor of a fifty-story building, and there wasn’t any other reasonable way of getting to the bottom, so with a deep breath, she forced her leaden feet forward and crossed the threshold first. She held the door for Nolan with her elbow and then stepped back beside him. She kept her hands off the railing and talked herself out of holding her breath. It was too long a ride for that.

She looked over and found him watching her, a smidgeon of curiosity in his eyes.

She felt the need to say “I’m fine,” but didn’t, and not even because he hadn’t asked. In fact, he’d already turned away to answer a question from another occupant.

It wasn’t lost on her that hers wasn’t a normal reaction, but with every one of her father’s chemo and radiation treatments, his immune system got weaker, and she’d gotten more paranoid. She couldn’t help but worry about him contracting an infection that he couldn’t fight off, all because she’d ridden in a germ-infested elevator, or shaken someone’s hand.

You’re losing it.
She
needed
to be able to do this job. Not only for herself, but for her father, too. She’d been told in no uncertain terms just last week that contrary to his expectations, the medical insurance would not cover all of the bills that were piling up.

She tried to focus on faces. You never knew when or where you would see a face again and what it might mean. But nobody stood out as not belonging. Even the bike courier at the seventh floor smiled and waved at someone before squeezing inside, obviously in the building often enough to develop a rapport with some of the employees.

Two women dressed almost identically in black blazers and pencil skirts chatted together. One of them was older, maybe sixty, with sleek blonde hair and a few thin lines around her eyes.

The other woman was in her thirties, with bouncy chestnut hair to her shoulders. Her posture stiffened, and she cast an annoyed look over her shoulder as the guy standing too closely beside her laughed at something his friend said and carelessly nudged her arm.

The two men talking to Nolan had already loosened their ties for the day. One of them swept a hand through his slightly greasy hair before reaching for the hand rail. April winced. Both of the guys seemed to get more relaxed with every ping of the elevator as the floors counted down, and they decided which bar to hit up for a drink.

The elevator stopped, squeezing everyone closer as more passengers entered. The woman who’d been annoyed with a brush against her arm was now plastered right up against the same man, and April squeezed herself into the corner. She was very aware of the brush of Nolan’s shoulder against hers, and the rumble of his voice as he made conversation. The cadence of his words imprinted deep in the pit of her stomach and the subtle scent of the soap still fresh on his skin invaded her lungs.

When they reached the first parking level, Nolan put his hand over the door and waited for her to step out, but she hesitated. “My car is here,” he said.

“Mine is on P3.” The visitors’ level. She didn’t usually bring her car into the city. It was impractical to drive downtown, but she hadn’t known what to expect and had to be prepared to follow her client anywhere.

“It looks like you’ve got a dilemma then.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. He was having a lot of fun baiting her, and maybe she should be offended, but it was easy to understand why all the women fell at his feet. She could see why every magazine and newspaper wanted to find an excuse to put his picture on their cover.

He was hot, but so what? Lots of guys were hot.

Except there was way more to it than that. He was more than just a pretty face with a bright future, and there was nothing like a devastatingly gorgeous guy with power and money, whose smile lit up…everything.

Her breath caught. He knew exactly the effect he had on people, and she had no doubt that he used their expectations against them, used his reputation as a smoke screen, used smiles and subtlety to put people off balance.

She thought she understood a little better what she was dealing with, and she wasn’t going to be that girl again—the girl who gets starry-eyed by the charm and attention and forgets to wonder why a gorgeous guy with power and position would bother with someone like her.

Because the answer was never the right answer, and the charm and attention was just a game…one that was rigged.

Yes, she knew better.

He was still holding the door, watching her. She slipped out of the elevator without even touching him, but her skin still tingled and her breathing hitched. Too bad knowing didn’t seem to be making any difference. He’d apparently decided he wanted to get under her skin…and it was certainly working. She would have to shore-up her defenses if she was going to make it through this job.

“Will you come with me in my car in order to adhere to the letter of your assignment, or will you be a rebel and just meet me at the gym?”

“The gym?” She frowned. “I thought you were heading home. I would prefer it if you returned home at this time. I can protect you much easier in the safety of a private space, and I still need to get the other anonymous notes from you as well.”

“I need to work out,” he answered with a careless shrug, making it clear that making her job easier was not one of his priorities.

“Didn’t you already spend a ridiculous amount of time on that treadmill this afternoon?”

“That was just to keep me from clawing at the walls. I don’t react well to prolonged periods of inactivity.” His voice lowered an octave, making it clear just what kind of activity he preferred most.

“You could meet me at my apartment later if you’d prefer, and I would be more than happy to hand over the notes then.”

“You know I can’t do that. Until you’re tucked safely in bed for the night, I stick to you like glue.”

“That should be fun.” He waggled his eyebrows. It was such a goofy thing to do, she struggled not to laugh. This wasn’t a date. This was a job.