Re/Bound (Doms of the FBI Book 1) (9 page)

Chapter Five

“Darcy, check this out.”

Three days had passed since her wondrously successful weekend. Theo had called her every single night. They talked about everything and nothing until well after midnight. Darcy wasn’t sure if her giddiness came mostly from her developing relationship or from lack of sleep.

Layla Hudson, a client who had been with her for a little more than two years, snapped her fingers in front of Darcy’s face.

Heat flamed in her cheeks. Darcy blinked away the images of Theo that danced in her mind. Layla’s pretty oval face, surrounded by a halo of short golden hair, bobbed into focus. The clatter of construction and people calling orders to one another sharpened. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen you so distracted before. It’s kinda nice to see that you do have days where you aren’t perfect.”

Coming from anyone else, that kind of statement could have been considered catty. Since Layla didn’t have a mean bone in her body, Darcy took it as the ribbing it was intended to be. Also, since Layla had been one of the few people who had given her the benefit of the doubt after Scott’s disappearance, she could pretty much say or do anything she wanted and Darcy wouldn’t get upset.

“I’ve stayed up a little too late the past few nights. I’ll make sure I hit the sack early tonight.” She shuffled through the papers in the folder on the stainless steel cafeteria table in front of her. “I have the final contracts here. You should be able to have the Rosa Parks Rec Center up and running by next month.”

Workers and volunteers streamed through the large room that would very soon be a gym where inner-city kids could hang out after school. Sports programs with coaches would be offered here. In the next room, cabinets and shelves were being installed to hold all kinds of arts and crafts supplies. Areas for kids to do homework and study were located toward the front of the remodeled building. It all smelled fresh with new paint and new hope.

Darcy had guided Layla through the entire grant process required to raise the funds to do the necessary structural repairs. Now they focused on finding money to pay qualified tutors and to recruit mentors. This kind of work made Darcy’s heart swell with satisfaction. Making a difference in someone’s life mattered to her.

“I know that, you nut. Check this out.” She waved a piece of paper that looked suspiciously like a check. “I had dinner over at my aunt’s house Monday. My cousin happened to be in town. I regaled him with news of the rec center. Instead of calling me a bleeding-heart liberal like he usually does, he got his friends to pool together a donation. Three thousand dollars. He delivered it to me this morning.”

“That’s wonderful.” Darcy laughed and hugged Layla. “Let’s celebrate. You buy lunch.”

Layla leaped to her feet. “Okay, but I pick the place. There’s this new Italian deli downtown I’m developing an addiction to.”

Darcy fished her keys from her purse and grabbed her jacket from the back of the folding chair next to her. The brisk April winds weren’t as sharp in the city, but they still chilled. “I’ll drive.”

“Oh no. We walk. It’s sixteen blocks. I figure we’ll burn about half the gratuitous calories, and I’ll only feel a third as guilty as I should.”

Darcy looked over Layla’s petite figure and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d seen Layla put away a large pizza by herself, and the woman had nothing to show for it.

Sixteen blocks ended up not being all that long of a walk. Darcy didn’t want to tell Layla that her math calculations were vastly flawed, especially not after she bit into a meatball sub. Mozzarella strings stretched from her mouth back to the sandwich. She used her finger to twirl and break them.

“Food this good should be illegal.”

Layla giggled. “And now I don’t have to be an addict alone.” She took an impossibly large bite of her Italian special and moaned loudly. “I love pepperoni and salami. I love anything that comes in a package shaped like a penis and tastes this spicy.”

Before Darcy could think of anything approaching a witty reply, Layla slapped her hand on the table. Several heads turned in their direction. Layla didn’t suffer from the need to be unobtrusive in public. Her voice carried, and her vivacious personality sent off vibes that drew stares from everyone in a ten-foot radius.

“Okay, we’re officially not working. Dish, girl. Tell me all about this guy who keeps you up at night and puts such a dreamy expression on your face.”

Darcy hadn’t disclosed anything about Theo to anyone. Part of her didn’t want to talk about him. The fear he would up and vanish kept her from completely enjoying the endorphin rush thinking about him generated. She swallowed the food in her mouth and washed it down with a sip of diet pop.

“His name is Theo, and he’s a very sexy computer geek.”

Layla wrinkled her nose. “Now that we’ve established he’s your type, what makes him sexy? Have you done the nasty yet? Do you have pictures?”

Laughing and shaking her head, Darcy stalled by taking another bite. She really couldn’t explain her reluctance to talk about Theo. The more time passed, the less real their weekend together seemed. Even though they talked every day, it wasn’t the same.

Finally she put her sandwich down. “If I had pictures of us having sex, I would not show them to you. Some things should not be shared with anyone.”

“Funny.” Layla’s smile evaporated. Her serious expression made Darcy tense. “You don’t want to talk about him. What’s wrong? Did he promise you he’d call and then he didn’t?”

“No, nothing like that. He calls every evening.” Could she explain how she felt without Layla thinking something was wrong with her? She watched a teenage employee in the company’s green-striped shirt as he changed the trash. The boy wore a bored, slightly resentful expression on his face that seemed to say
they make me do this because I’m the only here one who can lift this much weight
. The smaller girls behind the counter smiled at customers and took their orders.

“So? Sexy computer geek who calls when he says he’s going to call. What’s wrong, Darcy?” Layla’s tone had gone soft and quiet. “Is it Scott? Are you feeling guilty? You shouldn’t.”

Finally, something Darcy could articulate. “I know. I don’t feel guilty. Somehow it feels like Scott approves of Theo. I don’t know. It sounds crazy, right? Maybe I am crazy. I keep doubting that last weekend was real.”

Layla reached across the small table and put her hand on Darcy’s. She gave it a squeeze. “You’ve had to deal with so much crap, honey. I think I’d be worried about you if you didn’t question it. You deserve to be happy. Are you going to see him this weekend?”

Darcy shrugged. “I hope so. He lives over an hour away, so seeing each other during the week isn’t feasible.”

“Is he a Dom?” A year ago, Layla had been just a client. When, by chance, she had met Scott, she had recognized the dynamics of their relationship. She’d been operating on intuition, but she’d confirmed her suspicion with a direct question. Layla wasn’t one to beat around the bush or try a diplomatic route when she didn’t see the need. The two had slowly built a close acquaintance over the past year, though they usually only saw one another for work-related reasons.

“Yeah. I’ve never dated a Dom before.” Sparks jumped low in her abdomen as she remembered dancing with him.

Layla snorted. “You were engaged to a Dom.”

“But our dates were very vanilla. Most of my date with Theo was vanilla, but not all of it. He topped me when he took me dancing.” She laughed, thinking about it. “He asked very nicely beforehand. He’s like this perfect gentleman, even when he’s dominating me.”

She thought about how he went out of his way to ensure her physical privacy when most Doms would have not only looked, but they would have ordered her to stand still while they did it. Most would have touched as well. Theo didn’t pretend he’d whipped her for any reason other than to help calm her nerves, and he didn’t deny or try to hide his attraction. Her heart swelled a bit, harboring both affection and fear.

“He sounds great,” Layla said. “Does he have a brother?”

When Darcy laughed this time, she heard the relief in her voice. In the back of her mind, she had been afraid Layla would judge her. “He does. I don’t know if he’s single, though. Theo didn’t mention a girlfriend or a wife when he told me about his brother. Come to think of it, he didn’t even tell me his brother’s name.”

__________

The large corner office screamed wealth and power. Soft, buttery leather encased every chair and covered the twin sofas on the other side of the room. Rich paneling covered the walls. Framed photographs of Vic Snyder with various political figures, including the Koch brothers, graced the walls. The more prominent political figures were featured in larger frames. Actual art was interspersed at intervals set by an interior designer with an eye toward the overtly masculine.

Thick carpet cushioned the sound of footsteps. Malcolm looked for a bearskin rug and various stuffed animals that might represent hunting excursions, but he found none. The only case of trophies and plaques in the office took up a small amount of space near the door. Each spotlighted Snyder Corporation.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, so Malcolm urged Snyder around the desk to see the laptop screen without the glare.

“Mr. Snyder, take a few minutes to poke around the site. This is one I created for Freedom United, a PAC that advocates for democratic principles.” Technically they financed rebellions in several countries seeking to install a democratic government, or so they claimed to their donors.

Freedom United also engaged in many clandestine activities, and their website had actually been designed by an undercover agent working on a joint FBI-CIA effort. That investigation was still active, and the website tracked every transaction. Malcolm’s assignment here at Snyder’s employed a similar approach.

Additionally Malcolm needed to investigate Snyder in relation to Yataines’s disappearance. He’d shared his verdict that Darcy couldn’t have killed her fiancé with Keith, who hadn’t quite ruled out Darcy’s complicity. Keith had asked him to keep an eye out for evidence linking Yataines to Snyder that didn’t involve Darcy. The agency wanted hard evidence either way.

That goon he’d cornered in the stairwell had reported him to Snyder. Malcolm had thought he would have to work around the negative report, but Snyder not only welcomed him into his office, he shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder.

Snyder sat on the leather visitor’s chair and navigated the site. “It seems pretty straightforward. What does it do that’s not apparent? My needs are a little more specialized.”

“Well, Mr. Snyder, if you tell me what you need, I can design a program to do it.” What he couldn’t do, his counterpart at HQ could. Lifting his gaze, he gave Snyder that cocky kind of look that conveyed a wealth of meaning without using words.
I’m your man, Snyder. I’ll break the law for you
. “Back doors, hidden features, trackers, cookies. Everything.”

Theo Stevenson’s checkered past featured work for several legally questionable enterprises, including a successful pump-and-dump scheme perpetrated through the housing market. Though nothing had ever been pinned on him, his résumé generated enough doubt for someone as savvy as Snyder to pick up on. He wanted to look good, but not perfect. Perfection was always suspect.

Snyder’s eyes narrowed as he studied and considered. Then he smiled and held out his hand to shake. “I like you, Theo. Call me Vic. I think you might fit in here very well.”

Malcolm accepted Snyder’s show of camaraderie. “I think so too, Vic.” He kept the handshake strong. Snyder regarded him with calculated respect. Things were right on track.

The door opened. Malcolm turned in surprise, thinking even Snyder’s administrative assistant would knock first. He caught Snyder’s smile as he glanced toward the intruder.

Dressed in a navy blue pencil skirt and a flowing white blouse, Darcy halted in her tracks. Her lips parted a bit, and her eyes widened. She obviously hadn’t expected to find Snyder entertaining anyone.

Malcolm squelched the smile that wanted to bloom on his face and forced his body to remain still. He wanted to rise, to cross the room and take her in his arms. Four long nights had passed since the last time he’d kissed her. Though they had spoken on the phone and he felt they really bonded over a number of topics, it wasn’t the same. He desperately wanted to kick Snyder out of the room so he could show her how much he’d missed the smell of her hair and the way her eyes glittered when she laughed.

“Darcy.” Snyder crossed the room, took her free hand in his, and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Malcolm wanted to punch the man for touching Darcy. His heart thumped. He hadn’t told her he would be in town because he’d wanted to surprise her later. Visions of calling as he normally did, asking about her day, and knocking at her door while they were still on the phone fled from his plans.

She didn’t pay much mind to Snyder. Her crystal blue gaze, made even more stunning by the color of her skirt, burned through his chest. This wasn’t close to how he had imagined their reunion. She was supposed to be pleased and excited, not wary and troubled.

“You know one another, I’m told.”

Darcy’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. A line of confusion marred the smoothness between her brows.