Scandal Never Sleeps (4 page)

Honestly, Everly wasn’t sure she believed in true love. Attraction and affection, yes, but love? Her father had been burned by the concept. He’d taken the shock and sorrow of his wife’s abandonment to
his grave. Her mother had always seemed so distant, as though she’d spent her life up until the moment she’d walked out on them longing for something else.

She shook her head. “Scott, I don’t even know what a wingwoman would do.”

He sat back and thought about it for a moment. “Well, first you should go over there and talk me up. Tell him how perfect I am, what a great guy I can be. If that doesn’t work, then slip him a roofie so I can have my wicked way with him.”

She rolled her eyes. Sometimes Scott had a vivid imagination. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.”

“I tried,” he said with a long sigh, his gaze trailing to the back of the room.

Everly followed his stare. A waitress in a female version of a tuxedo carried what looked to be a cheese plate past a large black man wearing a nondescript suit and aviators. He guarded a door that led to what she could only imagine was a VIP section.

“See that? I heard a rumor,” Scott whispered in her ear. “While you were in the bathroom, Marty from processing stopped by and told me the craziest story.”

“You shouldn’t listen to him. He’s a horrible gossip.”

“Do you want the scoop or not?”

She was kind of afraid that the next big scoop after Scott’s would be “Wonder Girl Gets Fired After Kindly Employer Dies.” She’d shot through the ranks like a comet, and now she was going to hit the ground with a great big thud. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do when the new boss came in and found out his or her head of information security was a too-young-for-her-position hacker who everyone except Maddox Crawford thought couldn’t handle the job. Maddox had been her champion, her mentor in this crazy corporate world. He’d also been a surprising friend.

At first, she’d been so shocked by his death. The devastation still hadn’t worn off. But now, almost a week later, her brain had begun
working overtime, and she had questions—the sort no one seemed to want to answer.

Maddox Crawford had been an experienced pilot. Had his death really been an accident?

Not according to that mysterious, inexplicable e-mail she’d received last night.

“All right. What’s the big scoop?” Everly decided to disregard her own advice. She would listen to any gossip that took her mind off her troubles. She needed one good weekend before she faced whatever crap Monday morning would bring.

She took a healthy gulp of the sauvignon blanc she’d ordered. Scott was right. She needed to live a little before the hammer came down on her head. If things went the way she suspected, she would be lucky to afford box wine next month.

“You know how the Great Crawford had some seriously powerful friends, right?”

She didn’t follow the gossip rags the way everyone else did. In fact, she purposefully avoided that tripe. Why fixate on the problems of celebrities when she had so many of her own? Besides, when it came to people like Maddox, more fiction than truth filled the tabloids. They wanted a good story, and real life tended to be too boring. The Maddox she knew had worked hard—twelve hour days, often six days a week. He’d cared about his employees. She bet no one reported that. “He knew a lot of people. Men in his position often do.”

“But he knew one very
powerful
person,” Scott whispered.

She wasn’t sure what he was insinuating. “I don’t doubt that. He was in a lofty position, Scott. It’s not so surprising he knew key players.”

Scott huffed, his frustration evident. “Damn it, don’t you know who I’m talking about? Zachary Hayes, the president of these United States, the hottest man to ever hit the White House. They were friends as teenagers, according to rumors. I’ve heard the president is a sentimental man. I think he secretly attended Crawford’s funeral and is even now somewhere in this bar.”

Maddox had told her once that he’d attended the same prep school as the current president and that they’d been close back in the day. The two of them had been part of a small group of friends who had dubbed themselves the Perfect Gentlemen. Everly wasn’t sure if they’d meant the name to be ironic, but she suspected so, given Maddox’s less-than-polite reputation. The rumors of their high jinks had been the stuff of legend . . . and they’d come up in some really low-blow campaign ads against Hayes.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, the president of the United States is here. I’m so sure.”

Scott looked pointedly back toward the VIP room. “Have you seen the surprising number of men in black suits hanging around here?”

“Scott, the majority of people in this bar came straight from the funeral. Are you really shocked they’re wearing dark suits?”

“And the sunglasses?” Scott shot back. “How many people besides crazy, scary feds do you know who wear sunglasses inside a crowded bar at dusk?”

She turned and caught a glimpse of two overly large men standing by the entry to the back room. When a woman stumbled toward them, they gently but firmly turned her away. Everly caught a glimpse of metal. Maybe Scott was onto something. “Holy shit. I saw a SIG Sauer.”

Scott’s brow rose. “A what?”

Clearly, Scott hadn’t been raised around firearms. “It’s the weapon the Secret Service uses. I know because my father was a cop and a complete gun nut. I knew how to shoot practically before I could walk. I don’t know if that guy is actual Secret Service, but he’s carrying a similar piece.”

Scott stared at the doorway being guarded by the aforementioned black-suited, aviator-wearing bodyguards. “Think about it. The hottest of all the commanders-in-chief might right now be sitting in that room, downing shitty tequila.”

“Somehow, I think they’d give him the good stuff. And it’s probably not him. More than likely, it’s some pretentious CEO or trust-fund
playboy Mad knew. Surely, the president would go someplace more secure. Besides, if he were here, the press would be crawling everywhere.”

Scott shrugged as if he saw Everly’s wisdom but still liked his own theory better.

Grinning, she canvassed the room to see who else from Crawford Industries had come to pay their liquid respects to Mad and noticed Tavia walking her way. The stunning, polished executive dashed toward them, her standard professional smile in place.

“Good to see you here, dear. I thought you’d go back to Brooklyn after the service.” Like many raised on the Upper East Side, she said the word
Brooklyn
as if it was a virus she didn’t want to catch. Those poor deluded people thought the city only existed between Midtown and Harlem, and wouldn’t dirty their designer shoes by walking on the rest of the island. But in every other way, Tavia had proven personable, if a bit high-strung. The woman could barely sit still.

“Scott convinced me to stay for a while.” It hadn’t taken much. Her loft had been so quiet for the last five days. The silence had become intolerable. She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to depend on her boss’s friendship.

For the last couple of months, he’d shown up on her doorstep out of the blue and uninvited with some project to talk about. They’d spent hours gabbing and eating. At first, she’d worried that she would have to fend off a lecherous boss, but he’d actually been surprisingly sweet. Kind, even. He’d taken a profound interest in her, but not as a lover. Somehow they’d fallen into a comfortable companionship, as if she’d known him all her life. There had not been a single spark between them.

She was going to miss him so much. The ache she felt at not seeing him again definitely hurt. Everly took a sip of wine, wishing again that she was someone else and somewhere else. Escape sounded great about now.

Tavia tapped a Prada wedge against the floor. The shoes might have
been a few years old, but they still looked sleek and classy. “Hey, I wanted to pass on a little insider info. Crawford’s lawyer is meeting with the executor of his will Monday, so it looks like we’ll have some news about the company’s future soon.”

Scott went a little green. “So the pink slips could go out in quick order. God, I don’t want to look for another job. It took forever to find this one.”

Tavia shook her head, her pale hair jerking over her shoulders. “There’s always a shake-up after someone new takes the reins, but you should be fine in the executive development program. They usually take out the players at the top. The new guy tends to like to bring in his own leadership team. If anyone’s going to get the boot, it will be me and Everly.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “It could be any of us. I’m not exactly a peon, thank you very much. I’m rotating through all the departments until the program ends.”

Three margaritas and a funeral had left Scott prickly and morose.

“Which means you’ll be valuable, Scott,” Everly assured her friend. “You know something about every part of Crawford, having spent six months in most of the major departments. You’ll be fine.”

“Exactly,” Tavia agreed. “But before I’m kicked to the curb, I need to make sure the new boss understands the importance of the foundation’s work. It’s excellent PR, and we all know Crawford Industries needs that now. With all the turmoil lately, our stock is down substantially. I’m hoping the new head honcho will think it looks bad to fire me two weeks before the annual fundraiser. If he keeps me until then, I’ll have a little time to convince whoever takes over that I’m worth what Maddox paid me.”

The fundraiser was the most important social event of the year at Crawford. Two weeks didn’t seem like a long time to sway a new boss, but the woman was right. Crawford Industries’ support of the International Women and Girls Education Foundation Tavia’s family had founded was vital. It was a true public relations gem. For a playboy like
Maddox to give generously to fund education for females in third-world countries had bought him a lot of good press and goodwill.

So why had Maddox told her privately that he wasn’t going to the gala this year? Everly frowned. He’d said it casually over dinner one night when they’d been going over her plans to strengthen their cybersecurity systems. He hadn’t exactly explained other than to say it was complicated. Then again, everything was complicated with Maddox Crawford.

He’d spent time with her, but he hadn’t trusted her with his secrets. And she’d understood that—right up until his plane had gone down and she’d received that mysterious e-mail.

Before his death, Everly had suspected he was hiding something. Now, she was almost certain of it. She wished she’d asked more questions and pressed harder.

But she wouldn’t be able to unravel all his mysteries tonight. Starting Monday, she’d probably have lots of time to figure out what Maddox had been up to because she’d be looking for a new job. Tonight, she wanted to get blitzed enough to sleep through the night.

One white wine wasn’t going to accomplish that.

“I’ll be right back.” She gulped the rest of the vino in her glass, then stood and scanned the place. The bar was packed and seemed hopelessly understaffed. It wasn’t likely the waitress would make it back any time soon.

Everly couldn’t help but notice a couple of well-dressed waitstaff coming in and out of the back room, but they didn’t stop to help anyone else. If she wanted another drink, she would have to fend for herself.

Everly moved past the tables of coworkers. She stopped and said hello to some, but could barely handle the speculative stares of the rest. She knew exactly what they thought. Despite the company being a large, multinational conglomerate, the corporate office of Crawford Industries still functioned like a small town. Gossip abounded, and there was no one they liked to gossip about more than the boss.

She’d been linked to Crawford from the moment she was hired. Her first day on the job, he’d shown her around personally, sparking rumors that she was his mistress. When he’d bumped her up to head of cybersecurity after only six months on the job, the chin-wagging had become unrelenting. Though that made her job difficult, Everly had put her head down and worked. She’d stopped a corporate spy and helped the FBI track down a ring that had used Crawford subsidiaries for phishing expeditions. Still, no matter how effective she’d proven herself, the employees still speculated that she’d slept her way to the top.

Everly sighed. What a joke. She hadn’t slept with anyone in well over a year, and her long dry spell didn’t look like it would end anytime soon. At least the tabloids hadn’t printed the rumors of her nonexistent, torrid affair with Maddox. She had to be thankful for that small miracle.

She elbowed and nudged her way up to the crowded bar and tried to get the bartender’s attention. Unfortunately, she only counted two people working.

She held out a hand as one headed her way. “Can I get a drink?”

He walked right past her, but he did stop for the two blondes at the end of the bar. They were thin and gorgeous. Story of her life. She’d always been short and slightly more plump than fashion dictated. Damn it, that didn’t mean she didn’t need a drink as much as the skinny chicks.

The bartender turned and headed her way again.

“I’d like a glass of wine, please.”

Nothing. Not even a “Hey, I’ll be with you in a minute” that she wouldn’t believe anyway. He walked to the opposite end of the bar and started prepping what looked like cosmopolitans. The female bartender walked by, even more dismissive than the first guy.

The male walked by again and delivered the drinks to the two supermodels at the end of the bar. This time she was ready. She leaned over, hoping that maybe he hadn’t heard her the first two times.

“Hello, could I get a glass of . . .”

He started to stride past her again, but a large hand zipped out beside her and over the bar, stopping him in his tracks. “I believe the lady needs a drink. I’d appreciate it if you would help her now.”

That was the deepest, sexiest voice she’d ever heard in her life. It was attached to a really masculine-looking hand.

The bartender’s eyes widened. “Of course, sir.” He finally turned his attention to her. “What can I get you, ma’am?”