High Stakes Seduction - Book 5 (5 page)

But I was more interested in the information he had on whatever Antonio was mixed up in. And that also made me feel guilty for a slightly different reason—as if I was spying on my boss… and lover. I sighed. Sometimes I wondered who I had become over the past few months.

When Ryan had texted me earlier in the day, he had gotten straight to the point. No teasing or playing around, so I figured it was important.

"I really appreciate you looking into all of this. I just hope you’re not going to get yourself into any trouble," I told him after we'd ordered drinks.

"Nah," he said, brushing off my concern with a little wave of his hand. "It’s not unusual for me to be looking into various aspects of an investigation. I often have to gather field notes on individuals or organizations. Comes with the territory. No one has even questioned my research into the Children’s Academy or its Board of Directors."

That got my attention. "Did you find something?"

He shook his head and gave me an apologetic frown. "Not much. At least, nothing official that really stands out."

My shoulders sagged a bit with the disappointment. I’m not sure what I was expecting him to find, but I’d thought it would be a little bit more than nothing. For a moment I wondered if maybe Ryan's text was just a way to see
me
again, to get me out on another date?

"However," he said quickly, as if reading my thoughts, "Brad’s been acting strange lately."

"How so?"

"Normally, he keeps a pretty open door when it comes to communication. He’s always stressed the importance of me being aware of his comings and goings so that I can get in touch with him if anyone comes looking." He paused to finish his drink, then waved the waiter over for a refill. "But the other day, he told me he was meeting with a local attorney on some business. A short time later I happened to run into him in a totally different location. And the person he was with was certainly not an attorney."

"Really?" I asked, perking up. Stephens was on the Board. If he was acting strange, maybe it was related? "Has he ever done this before? How did you find him at this other place? And how do you know the other person wasn't an attorney?"

He held up his hands. "Whoa, Angela. One question at a time!"

"I’m sorry," I said, trying to quiet the questions racing through my imagination—while in truth, I was practically on the edge of my seat. His text had said he had some pretty juicy news for me. This must be it.

"There’s a bar on the other side of town that I sometimes go to after a visit with my family—believe me, I need it. My family can get pretty crazy sometimes."

My lips tightened with impatience as I waited for him to continue.

"Anyway, I didn’t see him at first since he had his back to me, but Brad’s got a really distinctive voice—not what you'd consider quiet or reserved—and when I heard it over the din of the bar, I looked around. He was sitting in the corner with one of the Academy’s Board members. The woman in the newspaper photograph."

"Naomi," I said softly, my eyes narrowed in concentration. What was she doing in a bar with Stephens?

"You know her? The platinum blond?"

"Oh, I know her," I said.

"Well," Ryan leaned in close, lowering his voice. "It looked a lot like Brad knew her pretty well, too, if you know what I mean."

I considered what he said. There was a possibility that it was an innocent meeting, taking care of Board affairs. Then again, Ryan said Brad had lied about his appointment… and I was damn sure Naomi was no attorney.

"What do you think they were talking about?" I asked him.

"Somehow I don't think it was Board politics, not from the way she was draped all over him."

"Isn’t he married?"

Ryan shrugged. "You’d never know it by the way they were acting."

Hm, that's interesting. I wonder what her game is this time?
I really couldn't stand the woman, but it seemed odd that she would be draped over someone else when she clearly had her eyes, and claws, set on Antonio. Had something happened between Naomi and Antonio? Or was this something else entirely?

Chapter Twelve

ANGELA

"Are you there? We must talk, please!"
read the text message on my phone. I'd just arrived at work, and apparently there were problems in Europe.

"Priscilla, I'm sorry but the twins need to talk with me. Can someone cover while I take care of this?"

She looked up from inspecting the display and waved me away. "Don't worry, it's early and there are no customers on the floor. Just let me know when you're back."

I stepped away, heading to my office to talk in private.

The time difference between here to Europe meant it was very early in the evening there. I was used to getting texts at all hours, this one seemed a bit more urgent than usual.

Once inside, I dialed their number.

"Hello," said a quiet voice.

"Hi Poula, it’s Angela Tilson. I just got your message. Is everything okay?"

"Oh Angela!" the young girl nearly cried with relief. "I’m so sorry. I have not messaged too early, have I?"

"It's fine. I'm at work," I said soothingly. "What’s the matter?"

"Our manager—he is crazy. Carlo will wring his neck if he cannot stop stressing us like this!"

"What’s your manager doing?" I asked.

"What is he
not
doing?" Poula replied with a touch of melodrama in her exasperated sigh. "Ever since we agree to work with you, he pushes us harder and harder. Always giving us crazy deadlines and way too big assignments. Like creativity can be timed down to the minute hand on the clock!"

I smiled a little at that. "I know it’s stressful to be working on such a large project. I suspect your manager is feeling the pressure, too."

"He only wants to look good, himself. And the meetings! He keeps us in too many meetings. We are supposed to design and oversee the manufacture, but then we are out of the studio half the day. We are not machines, you know."

"I know. Would it help to have Mr. Mancini speak with him? Perhaps there’s a way we can take care of some of the details on our end, to make it a little easier on you until the designs are finished, or until we get there."

"Oh thank you, Angela," she said, and I could hear the relief in her voice. "You would make us so happy. I will tell Carlo. Maybe now he can get some sleep."

I ended the call and glanced at the clock. It was very quiet in my little office. I smiled. It felt like a sanctuary. I was glad to have a place where I could escape when necessary, instead of feeling like I was always on display.

I knew I should get back on the floor. Priscilla would expect me to return as soon as I'd taken care of the call. But first, I picked up the phone again. After my conversation, I thought it wise to schedule a meeting to talk with Antonio.

***

"So what is it, something about Carlo and Poula?" Antonio asked. "Are they having another meltdown?"

I looked at him curiously. "How did you know that?"

He laughed. "It comes with the territory. They're young. And creative. And probably don't like too much structure or details outside of their expertise. It wouldn't be the first time a designer has gone off the deep end with the stresses of an upcoming deadline."

Well, the man knew his business. He hadn't gotten here by accident.

"You're right. I received a frantic text from Poula this morning. So I called to talk with her in person."

Antonio's eyebrows creased slightly. "Are they all right?"

"Stressed out—just like you guessed," I said matter-of-factly. "It seems their manager is going a bit over board with the details for this project, and it’s really affecting the twins. Apparently there are conflicting demands that are interfering with their production and their sleep. I suggested you might have a chat with their manager to see if you can’t help calm things down a bit."

Antonio leaned back in his leather chair and steepled his fingers. "I suspected this would be an issue. Carlo and Poula have indicated to me more than once they would prefer to work directly with you, but their manager is resistant to the idea, of course. I’ll see what I can do."

Work directly with me?
Given how volatile they could be, is that something I wanted? Or even, is it something I would be able to handle given we were half a world away?

"Tony, do you think that's a good idea?" I bit my lip as I realized I had reverted to his nickname, something I hadn't used since the cruise.

"What do you think, Angela? My main concern would be whether or not we could keep them on track without some local oversight. Are they mature enough to get the work finished on time, on their own?"

"Maybe," I said. "I think the work itself—the designs and the initial production—are easy for them. I’m not so sure about the merchandising part, though. I mean, have they ever been responsible for that end before?"

"Good point. Let me check with my contacts in Europe. Maybe there's a way to turn that part over to one of my existing accounts. Certainly, they won't have to worry about advertising or marketing since we carry their line exclusively here in the U.S."

He got up, coming around the desk to stand before me. "Now, I hate to rush you out, but I do have some other things to take care of."

"Business meeting?" I said half under my breath, but the little laugh that accompanied it was forced.

I'm not sure why it bothered me so much, but for some reason I needed to warn him about Naomi. You'd think I'd be glad that she was seeing someone else, but something about it, the disloyalty or duplicity, bothered me too much to keep my mouth shut.

"Is everything okay with you and Naomi?" I blurted.

Antonio froze. "What do you mean?" he asked, his words slow and deliberate.

"I-I know it’s none of my business," I began, letting the words tumble from my lips. "But I happened to see her the other night and… and she seemed to be getting awfully friendly with another gentleman—the District Attorney—and I just… I know things are…
different
between us, but still, I just don’t want to see you…"

I finally stopped, breathless and apprehensive as Antonio watched me, a dark, unreadable expression covering his face.

After a moment, he put a hand on my arm. The warmth of his skin against mine set off electric shocks, even while I was sure it was meant to be soothing. And it did nothing to calm my already rapidly beating heart.

"Ange," he said softly, but with a strange edge to his voice. "I need you to stay out of this, okay? This is nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Nothing to be concerned with?
What the hell game were these two playing? I stared up at him, confused. Then anger broke in. "You don’t care that she’s flirting with another man? That doesn't bother you? Are the two of you together, or is she ‘just part of your past’ again?"

"It’s far more complicated than that, Angela. I just need you to promise me that you will let this go."

Let it go? Seriously?
How could I just 'let it go'? "Fine," I managed, my face stiff. "If that's what you want. Then fine." I turned to leave.

"Angela. Please just humor me on this."

Humor was the last thing on my mind at the moment. Murder was a more likely candidate.

Chapter Thirteen

ANTONIO

I didn't know if Naomi was getting sloppy, or if it was pure chance that Angela had seen her with Stephens. I had expected to be able to give the woman free reign, but perhaps I'd need to do a little counseling instead.

I didn't want to see Angela hurt by any of this—well, not any more than had already happened. Or was absolutely necessary in the larger scheme of things. I could only hope she'd stay far enough away to not be in any physical danger until this whole dangerous business was wrapped up.

The intercom buzzed. "Mr. Arnold from Lakeside Gallery, on line 2," came Hilary's cheerful voice.

"Gregory," I said, picking up the line. "How's the fundraiser coming?"

"Very well, Antonio. Your young artist is delightful. And you were correct, as always, very talented."

"Was there any doubt?" I laughed. This was a running joke between us. I found him talented artists, he made good money representing them. "So you've seen her work and everything's set?"

"I think I'll give her the Poplar wing. That way she can show fifteen to twenty paintings and there's ample room for a nice small crowd. Shall I set up the full treatment? Music, hors d'oeuvres?"

"Oh, something subtle, but a small chamber group or harpist might be nice to help draw people into the room. I'll leave that to you, of course."

"As usual," Gregory laughed. "We do work well together, my friend. Thank you again for introducing me."

"My pleasure, as always. Have you told Maria yet? I'm actually headed over there in a few minutes. I'd like to be the one to share it with her, if you don't mind."