Here Comes Trouble (7 page)

“You mean did I sell my almost-patented water treatment system out from under the non-profit that planned to disperse the technology to third-world countries, skip town with the obscene profit, and leave my family and family’s company to deal with the legal fallout?”

Gage didn’t blink. He stared and popped another pretzel into his mouth.

“No.” Malcolm finished his beer and reached for the water, a grudging respect taking form. “I didn’t.”

Nathan sputtered and Malcolm shifted out of the sharp spray of Guinness. “What the— What do you mean you didn’t—?”

Malcolm couldn’t remember seeing his one-time best friend look so flummoxed, but he continued speaking to Gage. “I left town because I was told it was the best thing for the business. And because it was the only chance I had to protect my brother.” And just like that, five years of pressure burst within him. He let out a slow, controlled breath. One dam breached.

Nathan leaned forward, shock mingling with disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? What does Ty have to do with what happened?”

“Not a damned thing as it turns out,” Malcolm said. “But that isn’t what I was told the night I left. Dad got what he wanted. Me out of the company, out of the business.” But he’d found a way back in. “Now it’s time to set things right.”

“Why the hell didn’t you ever say—” Nathan demanded.

“You never asked.” Malcolm tried not to sound as if his friend’s lack of faith in him didn’t still burn. “Not that I gave you the chance. None of you did.” The other night Sheila seemed open to the truth, but five years ago, their assumption about his guilt had stung. “But he did, so thanks.” He toasted Gage with his glass.

“So that is why you’re here?” Nathan asked. “To even the score with your father.”

Malcolm shrugged.

“And what about Sheila?” Nathan asked.

Malcolm’s hand halted half way to his mouth, his water forgotten for the time being. “What about her?”

“This would be where we ask about your intentions toward her.” Gage stretched out his legs and dug a finger into a notch in the table. “He’s not the only one who’s gaining a brother-in-law.”

“Because she’d so appreciate you looking out for her,” Malcolm challenged.

“Oh, she’d stab us each in the eye with her stylus.” Nathan nodded. “But that’s only if she finds out about it.”

“Sheila wasn’t—isn’t—part of the plan,” Malcolm admitted, but the way his statement dangled in the air caught both men’s attention as they glanced at each other. “As far as I knew she was married with a house full of kids.” Liar. Liar, liar, liar.

“She’s not,” Nathan said, his tone proving he didn’t believe Malcolm for one second.

“No, she’s not.” Malcolm nodded. “That everything?”

“For now.” Gage pulled out his phone and dialed, quirking his fingers toward the laminated card at the edge of the table. “Hey, Morgan. Yeah, I’m going to stay for a late dinner after all.”

Malcolm watched the cop disappear under a dazed smile that spoke of soon-to-be-married man.

“No, your brother hasn’t challenged me to a drink-off, don’t worry. We’re sticking around to watch the game.” When Gage cringed, Malcolm knew this was a guy who valued honesty and didn’t like being the least bit untruthful with his soon-to-be bride. “Yes, I’ll wake you up when I get home. Yeah, love you too.”

“Now that’s besotted,” Nathan said.

“Shut up and order,” Gage muttered.

“Good morning, Liza, Gina.” Sheila poked her head into her assistant’s office a little after nine on Tuesday morning and found the twins with their heads bent over Liza’s desktop arguing over the best terms to use for a Google search. “Extra large double-shot caramel macchiato for each of you. Thanks for staying late last night.”

Gina all but dived over the desk to grab her cup, dark curly hair bouncing around her round face that was split into a caffeine-starved grin. “Thank you.”

“Ladies sip, they don’t gulp,” Liza said as she rose to her feet and accepted her own. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sheila said.

“Suck-up,” Gina muttered in a way that reminded Sheila so much of her own sister she hid a smile behind her nearly empty cup.

“Troglodyte.” Liza elbowed her sister in the ribs.

“Spell it,” Gina challenged.

“So, where are we on the responses for replacing Valley Wireless?” Sheila asked and verbally dodged their insults. The way these two went at each other made her grateful she and Morgan were friends.

“That’s what we were just talking about.” Gina was all but bouncing on her Crocs-encased toes. As practical a dresser as Liza was a fashionista, Gina somehow managed to make jeans and button-down shirts look businesslike. “There was a voice mail when we got in this morning—”

“Only one?” Sheila couldn’t hide her disappointment. They’d made at least a dozen calls to tech companies well into the night before she’d gone home for a whole four hours of sleep and not one minute spent painting. She could feel the auction—and Nemesis’ next appearance—creeping up on her like a psychotic stalker.

“It’s
the
one, Sheila.” Liza tapped a window open. “TIN Consolidated has requested a meeting with you at one this afternoon.”

“TIN as in TechInter Network?” Sheila locked gazes with each of the girls. “Wait, I don’t remember them being on our list . . .” She scanned down the scribble sitting on Liza’s desk, the result of their brainstorming session last night. “They contacted us?”

“Uh-huh.” Gina’s brown eyes may as well have been UFOs for all the spinning they were doing. “They have a VP in town on business. Sheila, do you know what this means?”

“Word got out we were screwed by Valley Wireless and that we’re scrambling to replace them?” Nothing could kill a project faster than the rumor of falling behind schedule or losing contractors. Which reminded her, she had to get ahead on damage control.

“Since when are you the glass-half-empty one around here?” Liza asked. “TIN is
the
up-and-coming tech company.”

“
Time
magazine named them as a natural successor to Apple,” Gina said. “Their stock went onto the NASDAQ within three years. Their inventions are being used all over the world and they’ve recently started funding research grants and college scholarships.”

“TIN is serious money, not to mention an incredible opportunity if we can lock them in with the center.” Liza clicked Print and handed the pages over to Sheila. “I also might have emailed her information on our sponsorship packages for the gala.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?” Sheila warned, but even as she tried to calm the sisters, joining forces with TIN could solve most if not all of their issues when it came to completing the center and its entertainment complex well ahead of schedule.

Sheila considered skipping to her office if it wouldn’t mean spilling her drink. One problem potentially solved, leaving a few dozen or so left on her list. But it was going to be hard to concentrate when she had this possibility looming over her head. “What else is on my schedule for today?”

“Um. Sheila, wait.” Liza scrambled out the door to fall into step behind her. “I tried to get her to wait in the lobby, but she kind of insisted on waiting in your office.”

Sheila stopped and stepped to the side to stop Liza from bashing into her. “Who?”

“Um, it’s Alcina Oliver,” Liza whispered with a touch of awe. “She was very nice, but, kind of intimidating, you know? I wasn’t sure how to say no to her.”

Sheila chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Sheila assured her. Alcina could hold her own against a freight train if she wanted. “Why don’t you plan on ordering lunch from the deli on Fifth? We’ll see if we can get a handle on the gala plans once I’m done with Alcina, okay?”

“Okay.” The relief on her face was almost comical. The effect Alcina could have on people was more entertaining than a troupe of circus performers. “Okay, great.” She let out such a sigh of relief Sheila wondered if she’d deflate completely. “Let me know if she wants a refill on her tea.”

“The girl knows how to schmooze,” Sheila said as she pushed open the door to her office and found Alcina sitting on the brocade couch, a delicate teacup perched on her knees. “Good morning, Alcina.” She set her purse and coffee down on her desk and joined her on the sofa. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I hope Liza took good care of you.”

“Reminds me a bit of you at that age. Very poised, even when she’s scared out of her mind.” The twinkle in Alcina’s eyes made Sheila smile. “I have to admit, it’s fun to make people uncomfortable. She’s one of the Juliano girls, isn’t she?”

“Yes. She and Gina both work for the foundation.”

“Strong genes in that family,” Alcina said. “Excellent business sense, too. Those grocery stores of theirs can’t be beat. Every few weeks I have my companion bring me some of their lasagna. Reminds me of my years in Italy after the war.”

“I take it those market runs are a secret?” Sheila teased.

“Feel free to share,” Alcina said. “I owe you an apology, showing up like this unannounced, but after seeing you last night I decided this morning was as good a time as any. I want to hire you.”

“Another party already? I assumed you were here to go over the art auction’s guest list.” Sheila’s mind went to instant schedule mode as she searched out her file for the event. When was she going to fit something in before the gala? “And I’ll grab my phone so I can look at my calendar.”

“I’m afraid this one can’t be scheduled ahead of time, Sheila.” Alcina leaned forward and set her cup on the narrow table in front of them. “I want you to plan my funeral.”

***

“Okay, that takes care of the last additions to the gala’s guest list.” Sheila slid the note-filled legal pad across the table to Liza, who shoved a final bite of arugula, goat cheese, and cranberry salad into her mouth. “Let’s get the invites into the mail by Friday and update the website soon after. You can call Caprianos and confirm they’ve got the catering job and make sure we put the call out for an extra twenty to twenty-five servers. Oh, and I’ll want to meet with their sommelier to choose the wine.”

“Got it.” Liza glanced at her phone. “It’s twelve fifteen.”

Sheila stood and stretched, dismissing the lunch she’d barely touched by closing the plastic lid and picking up the fruit cup brimming with strawberries and grapes instead. She’d been bouncing between dread and nerves since Alcina left, her pronouncement about her impending funeral lodging in Sheila’s mind like a thorn under her skin. If she thought about it too much, she might just trigger an emotional explosion she couldn’t contain. And she didn’t have time to explode. “Alcina is supposed to be sending me the guest list for the art auction.” She might have three weeks to toss together two huge social events, but experience told her it would feel like days. Tonight she’d be perusing Chadwick’s list of potential bidders and attempt to get a handle on what he was trying to achieve.

Everything she found out now was one more weapon in Nemesis’ arsenal, especially since they had yet to get the final details on what art pieces he’d be auctioning off. “How are plans coming for the Fourth of July?” At least that was one party she didn’t have much of a hand in. Except the fruit salad. She had to remember to do the fruit salad.

“Mom and Dad and the Fiorellis are corralling all the family barbeques. If it can be grilled, sauced, or otherwise scorched, it’s on the menu. I’ll miss these get-togethers next year when I go to college.” No doubt both she and her sister were looking forward to the freedom college would provide.

“Maybe your mother will be distracted enough to forget about Morgan and Gage’s engagement for a while.”

Liza arched a brow.

“Yeah, forgot who I was talking about for a minute,” Sheila said. “I’m going to take a few minutes.”

“Leave it.” Liza pushed Sheila’s hand away when she reached for her cell phone. “You aren’t leaving the building. I know where to find you if anything urgent comes up. Go. Decompress. Eat something.”

“Okay, Mom.” Sheila didn’t have to be told twice as she grabbed her sunglasses and headed to the one place she could relax. And forget.

***

Malcolm stepped off the elevator on the third floor of Tremayne Investments and Securities, half of which had been dedicated as the headquarters of the Tremayne Foundation. Now this was a work environment he could get behind. Typical Jackson Tremayne. Practical, warm, inviting, and completely professional.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Sheila Tremayne’s office.” The fortysomething secretary sitting behind the half-moon reception desk rose to her feet, the kind and welcoming expression on her face triggering his memory. “Corrine, isn’t it? It’s nice to see you again. Malcolm Oliver.”

“Of course, Mr. Oliver. A pleasure,” she said with nary a trace of anything but good cheer. “How are you finding Lantano Valley after all this time?”

“Much the same,” Malcolm said, a little uncertain how to react to such a polite greeting. “How have you been?”

“Just fine, thank you. Liza?” Corrine called to the young, thin blonde walking toward them. “Is Sheila in her office?”

“Decompressing on the roof,” Liza said. “Hi.” She came over and held out her hand despite the armful of folders and papers she carried. “I’m Liza Juliano, Sheila’s assistant.”

“Malcolm Oliver.”

“Oh.” Liza blinked, but Malcolm had to give her credit. She didn’t lose a beat. “Well.” The nervous smile that curved her lips made him suspect his reputation had crossed generations. “She’s in the rooftop garden getting her dose of vitamin D. East corner. She doesn’t think we know about her hiding place, but that’s where you’ll find her. Stairs are just there.” She pointed behind her and they switched places as he headed in that direction. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

“That’s Malcolm Oliver?” He heard Liza ask Corrine, who shushed her in response. “From Oliver Technologies? The one who—”

Malcolm closed the door on the rest of her statement.

The entire expanse of the roof had been landscaped and decked out with patio tables and chairs, dozens of containers filled with blooming plants, and areas of lush greenery. No one would guess a building full of workers lay under them. The gentle rumble of water features added a soothing effect as he made his way across the expanse, noting the collection of tipped pottery and vases distributing water through its tumbling depths. A few employees milled about, some with coffee or water from the self-serve station located under the eaves. Others finished up lunches before disappearing down the same staircase he’d come up.

He headed east and, sure enough, found Sheila standing at the railing looking out over Lantano Valley. The afternoon breeze played against her hair and ruffled her sky-blue skirt. But there was nothing relaxed about her posture. She’d crossed her arms over her chest, her feet were locked together at the ankles, and he feared if anyone touched her, her spine might snap.

“Gran beat me here, didn’t she?”

Sheila looked at him so quickly he could all but feel her neck scream in protest. She didn’t respond. Her jaw tensed and her arms tightened around herself as if strengthening her armor against an intruder.

“I can go if you want.” Not that he wanted to. This place was as perfect as any he’d found in the city.

“Since when do you ask if you should go?”

Ouch. Okay, he deserved that. “Since realizing not asking before was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Sheila’s entire body sagged as she stared up at the sky, exposing the pale skin of her neck to the warm afternoon sun. “For once could you say the wrong thing?” Her arms dropped to her side as she faced him. “Please?”

He smiled and pushed his sunglasses higher on his nose, held out his hand. “Ask me how long I’ve been working on that line.”

“If you say since the day you left I may have to push you off the roof.” But she took his hand for a moment before picking up a container of fruit and setting it on the table between them.

“One of the things I always appreciated about you.” He could see why she liked this area amidst potted palms and flowering geraniums. “Was your ability to both terrify and enchant at the same time.”

“Look who’s talking.” The shade the fauna provided had her pushing her glasses onto the top of her head, but it took more than stunning sunlight and blinding color to erase the sadness he saw hovering in her gaze. “Is she sick?”

“Alcina?” Malcolm stretched out his legs. “Not that I know of.” Not that she’d tell him if she were. Ironic, that. “But her habit of being exceedingly practical can border on the macabre. I’m sorry she sprung it on you.”

“I’m not a funeral director.”

“And yet you didn’t say no.”

“Of course I didn’t.” There was no indication the tension stringing her together was easing. If anything, she looked more uncomfortable than when he’d first arrived. When they’d dated, he remembered Sheila as thriving, living life as if it would never end . . . or could end tomorrow. There weren’t adventures she wouldn’t dream about, and yet looking at her now, he realized what he hadn’t seen since he’d been back.

The spark that made Sheila completely Sheila.

“You’re tired.”

Sheila narrowed her eyes. “If that’s your way of saying I look like crap—”

“As if that’s possible.” He earned a rolling of the eyes for that one. “I just meant every time I’ve seen you the last few days you’ve been working like a fiend. If it’s not one event, it’s the next, or the next one after that. What’s your downtime like? When was the last time you took a day off?”