She finished dressing, wrote a note for Rafi, propped it in front of the phone and tiptoed from the room. Stopping for a minute at the front desk she left a wake-up call for him so he wouldn’t be late for his charter. Her appointment with the accountants at Haven was in one hour. She barely had time to grab a quick breakfast and walk to the garment district.
A busy week passed during which BD had little time to think of Rafi until she got back to her hotel at night. The agreements signed, the previous owner of Haven was happy to stay on indefinitely with her nice open-ended contract.
Shari hired Enzo to run the design department at Haven. They would coordinate product so there would be no duplication between Los Angeles and New York.
BD, on Shari’s suggestion, leased a three-bedroom apartment, which Enzo would occupy for the present. Shari and BD would also use the apartment when on the East Coast. It made a lot more sense than paying the outrageous New York hotel rates.
BD finished moving her things to the apartment that afternoon. She left her forwarding address at the hotel when she checked out, in case anyone needed to find her.
Anyone, being Rafi.
Enzo approached down the arrival hall toward her with his trademark Italian strut. Wearing a snugly tailored suit with an open neck white dress shirt, his curly black hair caught reflections from the recessed lights in the ceiling. His broad smile was directed squarely at the tall, attractive blonde at his side.
Enzo waved when he spotted BD in the throng of people waiting to meet travelers. “
Ciao, Bella,”
he called, took the hand of the blonde and tugged her to BD. “This is Ava.” He embraced BD and kissed her on both cheeks.
Amused, BD smiled and extended her hand. “Very nice to meet you, Ava.”
Enzo hadn’t wasted any time on his trans-Atlantic flight. He already had a woman in tow. “Ava models underwear.”
Naturally.
* * *
Another week passed with no word from Rafi. Shari came to New York and moved into the apartment while BD prepared to return to LA.
Shari winked. “How’d it go with the big boy?” she asked over dinner.
“Great, until he went missing again. I haven’t heard a peep since the morning after we got here. I imagine he’s doing what he does best—his disappearing act.”
“He does run a charter airline, you know.”
“Yes, but he has an office and a cell phone. How hard is it to leave a short message, to stay in touch?”
Shari shook her head and shrugged. “For him? Hard, apparently. Did he stick you with the hotel bill?”
BD couldn’t help smiling. “Not exactly. I stayed on at the hotel for a few days, and he did give me free airfare. So we’re even on that score. Anything new happening in your love life?”
“No, and truthfully it’s a relief.”
“Watch out for Enzo. He might think living under the same roof is an invitation.”
“Since when did he need an invitation?” Shari signaled for the check. “I’ll give him a couple of months or so to find his own place. I intend to keep him so busy at work that he’ll be too tired to think of anything else.”
BD laughed. “Good luck.”
* * *
Another week passed. BD seethed. What kind of game was Rafi playing with her? Or maybe he wasn’t thinking of her at all. Being a convenient plaything for some guy who literally flew in and out of her life annoyed the heck out of her.
Nick had manipulated and controlled her. Now it appeared Rafi rarely gave her a second thought. Talk about going from the frying pan to the fire. The two men couldn’t be more different. Rafi treated her as an equal in bed and out, and couldn’t care less what she did when he wasn’t around. So why did she care?
Men. She really knew how to pick ’em.
BD babysat Chase with the TV on and the sound off. The little stinker had finally fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. She selected the hearing-impaired feature on the hand control, so at least she got a partial idea of what was going on in the newscast.
Kelly could get him in bed by seven, but whenever BD watched him he barely stopped moving until he dropped. For the past hour his little eyelids drooped and sprang open, and then he’d be off again. Now, finally he slept. She wasn’t going to take any chances on waking him. Jack and Kelly wouldn’t be home for another hour.
She idly flipped back and forth between the networks. Some sort of melee in New York City. Outside the United Nations a crowd of sign-waving, shouting protesters jostled an unpopular African diplomat who had exited the building after delivering a speech before the General Assembly.
BD drew in her breath, her eyes widened, and she stared at the screen with her mouth open. One of the security detail, a tough-looking man in a black suit and sunglasses, was a dead ringer for Rafi. The running dialogue reported shots fired. The guy hustled the tyrant into a waiting limousine and jumped in after him. At the same time another guard held a woman at bay who attempted to hit him with a protest sign.
My God, it
was
Rafi! The bodyguard pushing back the crowd was Joe Brosky! There couldn’t be two other guys who looked so much like them. What the heck were they doing in Manhattan?
She dug around the couch for the controller to raise the volume, but before she got hold of it the program switched to another story. She flipped back and forth between the channels again hoping for another look at the incident.
Was that what he did when he wasn’t around? Is that why he suddenly disappeared without a word? Then showed up out of the blue? Maybe that was how he got shot. She needed to have a frank talk with that man, and soon. If he showed up again.
BD’s cell phone vibrated on the table next to her. The screen showed Shari’s name.
“Shari?” BD glanced at the clock. It had to be one in the morning in New York. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Enzo and I just got in after entertaining some buyers from Milan. I’ve been dying to call you all evening. You’ll never believe what I saw on the local news.”
“I think I just saw it. Are you talking about the incident at the UN?”
“Yes. Was that Rafael Cruz in the bodyguard detail? It sure looked like him.”
“Yes, I’m sure it was. His co-pilot on the flight to Newark was there too. I don’t get it.” She reached over and rubbed Chase’s back when he stirred.
“You sure know how to pick them.”
“I just said the same thing to myself.”
“Has he been in touch?”
“I haven’t seen or heard a thing from Rafi since I left him sleeping in the hotel room three weeks ago. For all I know he’s some kind of high-priced hit man.”
“Ooh, I love a man surrounded by mystery and intrigue.”
“Not for long. I’m going to track him down tomorrow if it takes me all day. I have to find out who this guy really is.”
* * *
She dialed the number in the yellow pages for Cruz Aero Charter Service. A female voice answered. “Cruz Aero, where may we fly you today?”
That unexpected question set BD back for a moment. “I, uh, I’m trying to get in touch with Rafael Cruz. Is he available?”
“No, I’m sorry. Mr. Cruz is out of town. May I take a message or transfer your call to the main hangar?”
Maybe Bert was at the hangar.
“Oh, yes, that would be great. Transfer me to the hangar, please.”
On the fifth ring a man answered. “Yell-o, what can I do fer ya?”
“Is Bert there?”
“Bert speaking.”
“Oh, Bert, this is BD James. Do you remember me?”
“I do, little lady. What do you need?”
“Bert, I’m trying to find Rafi.”
“I’m sorry, but he ain’t here. Do you want to speak to Joe?”
“Joe’s there? Joe Brosky?” How could he be there? She just saw him on TV last night.
“Yeah. Joe pulled into the hangar a couple minutes ago. He’s doing the post-flight checklist. I’ll catch him before he heads home. Hang on.”
BD heard the muffled sounds of shouting. Joe answered. “Brosky here.”
“Hi, Joe, it’s BD James. I’m trying to find Rafi or leave a message for him.”
Joe hesitated before he answered. “Hello, BD. Cruz’s out of town for a few days. I’ll be glad to give him your message when he checks in.”
Why all the stonewalling? “Just tell him I called. I saw him on the news last night. I saw you too. What were you guys doing there?”
“On the news?”
“Talk to me, Joe. What’s going on?”
“I’ll, uh, have Cruz call you. Hopefully we’ll hear from him in a day or so.”
“Joe.”
“Sorry. I’ve got to go. I’m running late.”
“Joe, wait!”
“Gotta go. Bye.”
Dammit, dammit, dammit!
Joe wasn’t the only one late for a meeting. She slammed down the phone, picked up her portfolio, and headed to the conference room for her meeting with Norah, Whitney, and old grab ass Judd. Yuck! When BD took her place at the table, the other three were all smiles.
That was unnerving, like staring into the faces of a smiling cobra, a toothless tiger, and a warthog, Judd being the warthog.
BD placed her portfolio on the table. “Sorry I’m late. I was on a phone call.” She opened the folder and passed copies of the material she brought with her to each of them, along with an ad mock-up for Haven’s latest catalog.
Norah broke the silence. “First off, I’d like to apologize for my outburst at the meeting with you and Shari.”
Hair on BD’s neck prickled. “Oh, that’s not necessary, I—”
Norah shook her head and raised a hand. “Let me finish, please.” She glanced at Whitney and cleared her throat. “I know that technically you work directly for Shari and that you answer to her. I was out of line when I ordered you to sit down. I apologize.”
The apology didn’t ring true, but BD decided to accept it at face value. She glanced at Whitney, and then Judd, who still wore the pasted-on smile as he nodded with encouragement.
Wary, BD smiled back. “Thank you, Norah. Let’s move on, shall we?”
Norah nodded—her face unreadable. Something was going on here. BD wondered what the three of them had cooked up. She opened the Haven catalog and pointed out the designs that she and Shari selected as the ones that could be integrated into Grayson’s collection. The garments were a departure from what Grayson clientele were accustomed to, but would appeal to younger customers without setting off alarms with those generations of faithful patrons.
BD chose her words carefully. These three needed to understand that she was presenting Shari’s wishes, not hers. “Shari thinks it would be a good idea to add a separate Haven supplement to the back of the Grayson catalog. She’d call it ‘Fresh New Designs for the Future,’ or something along that line. What do you think?”
Norah, Whitney, and Judd nodded approval. They reminded her of the Pep Boys bobble-head dolls. Judd assured BD the new line would be added to Grayson’s website by the next day. He thanked her for her time. They asked no further questions, and Norah adjourned the meeting.
Acid reflux boiled in BD’s throat. She hadn’t foreseen any way the suggested acquisitions would be integrated into Grayson’s catalog without resistance or objections, especially from Norah. Their unquestioning acceptance unnerved her. She decided to call Shari immediately to alert her.
BD fidgeted and paced her office, waiting for a return call from Shari. She grabbed the phone on the first ring. She related what had happened. “Does what I described sound right to you?”
“No. They’re up to something. I’ll call Judd and ask him to let me know as soon as he has the website updated so I can have a look at it. I’ll get back to you after I talk to him.”
“I have a bad feeling. I can’t put my finger on exactly why, but I do.”
“I agree. It went too smoothly, in my opinion. I’ll call Judd now.”
Through her office window BD observed Judd and Norah in the hall with their heads together. Then Norah left and Judd went to his office, which wasn’t in the direction of the advertising department. There was nothing she could do now but wait for Shari to call back.
The instant her phone rang she answered. “Hello, Shari? Did you find out what’s going on?”
“Hey, Bravo Delta, it’s Rafi.”
Heart fluttering in her chest, she took a breath before answering. “We need to talk, Rafi.”
His answer was cautious. “That sounds ominous.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at my hangar. I just got in about an hour ago. Can we have dinner tonight?”
“Rafi, I need some answers.” BD replayed in her mind the brief TV news clip of the incident at the UN. The scene intruded on her thoughts all day. He kept secrets from her. Between the whispering of Norah and Judd and her uncertainty about Rafi’s
other
life her concentration suffered.
“OK, sunshine, we can talk at dinner. I’ll pick you up at your brother’s house at seven. OK?”
“OK, but I want some frank talk from you if we’re going to continue to see each other.”
Rafi clicked off his phone and leaned back in the swivel chair. He rested his heels on top the desk, hands behind his head in his best thinking posture. Where was he prepared to go in this relationship with BD? How much could he tell her? If completely honest with her, she’d probably take a powder, and that would be the end of it.
Joe tapped on the door and entered without waiting for Rafi to acknowledge him. “Did you talk to her?”
“No, but I’ll have to come up with some answers tonight. I’m taking her to dinner.” He sat forward and rested his elbows on the desk, rubbed his forehead hard with the tips of his fingers. “I’m in the doghouse.”
Joe sat across from him. “You caught a real piece of bad luck when that jackass let off firecrackers while we were getting Mbando into his limo. Otherwise, there’d be no story and no news coverage. We’ve done hundreds of those routine jobs.”
Rafi nodded. “Sooner or later I’d have to tell her something. Looks like it’ll be sooner.” His off-the-books work was highly sensitive. The confidential nature of his activities limited how much he could reveal to BD. He’d like to tell her everything, but he’d be cautious, especially since he wasn’t sure how solid their relationship was. He sighed, stood, and went to the door. “Come on let’s take a look at that engine cowling. I don’t want the aircraft leaving the hangar until we find the source of the problem.”