Blast From The Past 2 (2 page)

I texted Julie THREE times to tell her that she’d left her laptop at my apartment. I tried calling her a few times, too—but it went straight to voicemail. Whatever she was doing, it sure as hell better have been worth it, because I was getting a little bit tired of waiting for her to respond.

Call me an old lady if you will, but it was almost 9 p.m., and I was tired as fuck. I wanted to go to bed, but I couldn’t… I didn’t feel right about it. It was still kind of early, and it wouldn’t have been unreasonable for her to want to come get her computer back. I figured I could at least stay up for another hour, right?

I lay down on the couch with my phone in my hand. There was no harm in kicking back while I left Julie’s window of opportunity open.

I must have fallen asleep, but the next thing I knew, it was 10:30 p.m., and the window had closed—but, nonetheless, there was a knock at my door. I jumped up from the couch, grabbed Julie’s laptop, and shouted, “Took you long enough, dumbass.”

When I turned the knob and held out the computer, my heart skipped a beat and I was taken back a little.

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be Julie.”

“Well, I’m not,” J.R. said, staring at me intently.

I felt as if I was going to melt.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, leaning back and opening the door wider.

He slid past me, and his shoulder grazed mine in the process.

“I need to talk to you about something,” he said. “And I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” I said, shutting the door and turning to him. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, softly, yet firmly. “And I believe you.”

I looked at him and could tell that he’d meant what he said, and I wanted to know more.

“Have a seat,” I said as I walked toward the couch. It was still warm from my nap.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“There’s nothing that goes on around here that I don’t know about,” J.R. said. “Well, obviously, there’s
one
thing… Whatever happened with you, I have no idea who’s responsible for that—but, I know it’s not you…. and I know you’ve been trying to prove it wasn’t you.

“The moment things starting going awry at rEcore, I put feelers out there in the tech world, all the way down to the undercurrents. Anyone who got into anything involving rEcore was to come to me with it, and they’d get big money. That friend of yours—Kevin?—he sang like a canary.”

Son of a bitch
, I said to myself.
I knew he was nothing but trouble!

“But,” J.R. went on, “I wasn’t expecting anything like what he told me. From what I heard—
and
saw—you’re not trying to destroy rEcore, you’re trying to save it. I mean, I know you’re trying to save
yourself
, but you’re also saving me in the process. There’s no way you’re responsible for that shit that happened… I know that now.

“And,” he added, “I wanna help you find whoever is responsible… I suggest we join forces.”

I looked at J.R., and part of me expected someone to jump out from behind a curtain. “Surprise,” they’d say, “you’re on
Candid Camera
!” But that didn’t happen, and, all of a sudden, I knew it wasn’t gonna. J.R. was serious… and so was I.

“Okay,” I said. “But why join forces with
me
? You obviously have immense resources and could hire a pro to figure this out. Why go with an underdog here?”

“You just said it,” J.R. fired back quickly. “Whoever’s doing this is no idiot. They’re already expecting me to look into things further at rEcore. Even though they have you as a fall guy, they have to know that there’ll be a full-scale investigation into the matter, and they’re probably already hard at work covering their tails as far as that goes.

“Let’s let them think they’re safe—that the investigation turned up nothing suspicious. Case closed, Trish Williams is the bad guy. Let them think they’re in the clear… Then, just as the big dogs are backing down, they’ll never expect a Chihuahua to come and bite them on the ass. Being the underdog here gives you an advantage. You have the element of surprise on your side—and, with me, you also have my resources. Any sum of money, any covert methods of gaining access to confidential information, anything you need that you couldn’t get before—that’s where I come in. I’ll supply it. But it all has to be kept secret, so that we keep our advantage.”

J.R. looked so dedicated and determined. He’d thought this all through and knew what he was saying. It all made sense, and I was about to tell him as much, but he continued before I could start.

“Also,” he said, “I know that you have a lot at stake here, and that’s why I’m pretty confident you’ll be able to figure this all out. You have more to win or lose than any hired hand would, and I can tell you won’t back down until you’ve got answers.”

“You’re right,” I said, speaking for the first time in minutes. “I won’t back down until I’ve got the answers.” I’d repeated what he just said, though I hadn’t mimicked him, and he smiled at the sound of his own words coming back at him.

I felt something rush inside me when J.R. smiled, and I tried my best to calm it. The last thing I needed was to complicate this already complicated situation by adding fresh new romantic feelings to the mix. Even
I
knew better than that.

But, still, the attraction—the urge, or deliciously tense feeling—was still there, and I wanted to cave to it. His face was so handsome and ruggedly beautiful, and I couldn’t help but remember how lovely it had looked buried between my legs. I wondered if he, too, was remembering these things as we sat there together. Did his mind wander like mine did, or was he strictly business?

Before I could think on that any further, I was caught off guard by another knock on my door, followed by Julie’s voice. “Trish, it’s me… Just let me get my computer, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

I looked to J.R. and raised my eyebrows. We hadn’t discussed Julie or whether she’d know about his involvement. But, with her knocking on the door, it became an immediate concern, like an elephant that wasn’t just in the room, but an elephant that was running, yelling, and bleeding.

J.R. shrugged his shoulders, went to the door, and opened it. Julie looked at him, then at me, then at him again. “Is this who I think it is?” she asked. “And, if so, what the fuck is
he
doing here?”

“You better come in here,” I said to my friend. “Everything’s okay, but there’s a lot we have to talk about.”

Julie stepped into my apartment, though somewhat reluctantly, and made her way over to an oversized armchair.

“J.R. found out about our investigation,” I said, “and he wants to help us. He knows I’m not responsible for what happened at rEcore, and he wants to help us figure out who is. But we have to keep it hush-hush. No one can know.”

Julie looked a little confused, but she seemed to be taking it in. “Okay,” she eventually responded. “But, how did he find out about our investigation in the first place?”

“Kevin told him,” I answered.

“What?” Julie asked, sitting up in the chair.

“J.R. put word out that he’d pay for anyone who came to him with anything on tech requests related to rEcore,” I explained. “Kevin ratted us out for a payout.”

“That fucker!” Julie exclaimed.

“You can’t really trust most people that work in
that
part of the industry,” I said, trying to make Julie feel better about Kevin’s betrayal.

“It’s not that,” Julie said, shaking her head. “It’s not about trust at all, actually… It’s about me feeling like a fool—‘cause, guess what?”

Julie waited for a moment, then added: “I banged him.”

“Oh,” I said, realizing just how deeply this one must have cut Julie.

“Um,” J.R. said, clearing his throat a few feet away. “Do you ladies want a moment alone? Want me to leave or something?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Julie said, relaxing her posture again. “It’s no big deal. It’s not the first time I’ve banged a loser… The point is, he told you what we were up to—and now you want to help us? I’m obviously not a good judge of who to trust in situations like this, but if Trish is for it, I am too.”

“Good,” J.R. said. “Now, let’s get to work.”

I hate to admit, there was something very, very strange about having J.R. in my apartment—and I couldn’t quite tell if it was because he was J.R. Marley, one of the most powerful men in the world, or because he was Joe Whoever, my one and only one-night stand from nearly a decade ago. Either guy just didn’t seem like he should have been in my apartment at this point in my life—yet, there they
both
were.

“So Kevin said you’ve been looking into Gigi?” J.R. asked after we all got settled into the situation a little better. “I guess that’s as good a place to start as any… She definitely has the access and know-how—and there might even be some motive.”

“Yeah,” I said, following up J.R.’s statement. “It turns out she knew my boyfriend from college… They operated a MUDD together. I never knew about it, and don’t know if it’s anything important here, but it’s definitely something to look into.”

“I’m sure it is,” J.R. added, quickly. “The link between them is a little strange, and it could mean something… But that’s not the motive
I’m
talking about.”

“Oh yeah?” Julie asked, picking up where I was left speechless. “Do tell.”

J.R. was sitting on the couch again, but he rose to address us. He walked over to my window, gently pulled back the curtain, and gazed out into the darkness. The air in the room seemed to thicken, and the room grew more ominous, as if he were about to drop a bombshell.

“Enough of the drama, Vincent Price,” Julie interrupted. “Just get on with it. What’s your story?” She too must have felt like the tone had changed, and I was glad she decided to change it back.

J.R. turned and leaned back against the window sill. He looked softer now, less dark and more approachable. I perched myself up on the couch to listen.

“Every year, when I come to rEcore for my in-house work, once I’m done with my time in the office, I throw some type of event for the employees,” J.R. explained. “It’s my way of saying ‘thanks’ to them for all they’ve done, and it really boosts morale and gives people a chance to have fun together outside of work. Naturally, I always go a little over the top and make sure the event is out of this world.

“Well, last year’s event was one of the best ever. I coordinated things with a local hotel and an entertainment vendor and basically turned half of the hotel into an arcade. The vendor brought out all these classic pinball machines, ski ball setups, and arcade-style video games and hooked them up in the conference areas of the hotel. I rented three dozen rooms, more than enough for our employees and a few stragglers—and every room, and every guest, had an open amenity tab. They could order room service, eat at the restaurant, drink at the bar, or buy a bathrobe—it was a weekend of fun, courtesy of rEcore.”

“That sounds great,” Julie said, arching her lips. Her smile wasn’t sincere, but sarcastic. “But what does any of this have to do with Gigi and motive?”

“I’m getting there,” J.R. replied. Julie looked at him expectantly, while I just sat back and waited.

“So, it was a great event,” J.R. went on. “Everyone from work showed up, including Gigi. She was one of the last people to get there, but she got there—and when she did, everyone noticed… Employees were free to bring a date with them to the event, or perhaps a member of their families. You know, whatever—they were allowed, and encouraged, to bring someone with them if they wanted.

“Well, not many of them did… But Gigi did, and she came with a real winner. The guy was a little younger than her, and he trotted around like he was the top rooster. He was obnoxious, rude, and didn’t have any social skills at all. And within an hour of getting there, he was so drunk that the bartender had to cut him off… And, believe me, he didn’t like it. He put up a big fuss and started screaming at the bartender, and one of the guys from the office stepped up and tried to say something to him, and Gigi’s date tried to sock him.

“Luckily security was already on the scene, and they managed to grab him before his fist made contact. They escorted the kid out of the hotel—and the whole while, Gigi was just standing there staring, with her mouth wide open.

“As soon as they got the guy outside, there were whispers, gasps, and chuckles going all around, and Gigi was still standing there, like a deer caught in the headlights. Someone decided to kick some music on somewhere, and the moment it started playing, Gigi turned and left the room.”

J.R. paused for a brief moment, as if he were waiting for Julie to prod him toward his point. When she said nothing, he continued.

“I don’t know why,” he said, “but I felt very bad for Gigi. I knew she had to be embarrassed, and I felt compelled to do something about it. I decided to follow after her, and I made it to the lobby just in time to see her step on to the elevator and have the doors shut behind her.

“‘What room is Gretchen Gordon in?’ I asked the clerk behind the desk. He knew who I was, so, of course, he told me. I got on the elevator and went to Gigi’s room… When she answered the door, she was crying. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked. ‘Come to fire me because of that asshole?’

“I told her that her job wasn’t at stake, and that I was there to make sure she was okay. She seemed to take kindly to that, and invited me into her room. I told her that what had happened was very shitty, and that it probably wouldn’t go away overnight—and I also told her to remember who she was and how she got where she was, and that she shouldn’t let any of the shit that just happened make her lose track of that.

“She thanked me for being supportive, and we went on to talk a bit more. I ended up asking her how she even ended up with a loser like that, and she said something about how finding a good guy ain’t easy… Then she put her hand on my thigh, leaned in, and kissed me.”

“Whoa,” Julie said, giving J.R. the type of interruption he’d waited for earlier. Only this time, it came at the wrong moment. The story was getting too good to be interrupted!

Sensing this, J.R. seamlessly continued, “I knew I shouldn’t, but I kissed her back. After all, I’m a man, and Gigi is… well, Gigi is Gigi. I kissed her back for quite a while, and even let my hands go where they shouldn’t. Things probably would have gone even further, but Gigi started talking.

“She said how wonderful it was that she’d come with the pauper and was going to leave with the prince, and she told me how she’d dreamed of this moment since she started working at rEcore. ‘We’re gonna make the perfect power couple,’ she said, and it kinda turned me off a little.

“Actually, it turned me off a lot. It was obvious that Gigi and I weren’t in the same place. I’d thought this was some random, casual encounter, and I wanted to live it out, like a
Penthouse
fantasy. But she wanted to make all her dreams come true, and I wasn’t down for that.

“I told her we were making a mistake, and I had to pry her hands off of me. Before I left, we agreed to act as if what happened never happened. It was a silly promise, I know, but it worked… or so I thought.”

Julie looked at J.R. as if she were waiting for him to say more. He
had
just talked our ears off for several minutes, and it wouldn’t have come as a surprise if he kept going. But, from all I could tell, he was done—and it was our turn to say something.

“So,” I said, being a little more aggressive than usual, “your story raises two questions… First, whatever happened with Gigi after the party—how’d she live that down in the office?”

Julie shook her head in concurrence, signaling that she thought I’d asked a good question.

“And, second,” I went on, “how many freakin’ people at rEcore
have
you hooked up with?”

Julie shook her head in concurrence with this question too.