She hugged him back. “I know.”
“Ms. Butler,” Jeffers called in that impersonal, almost condescending tone that made her cringe, “we’re ready for you now.”
Eva kissed Cole on the cheek. “Don’t get lunch without me. I’ll be right back.”
Jeffers ran through a few last-minute instructions. “If anything makes you uncomfortable, anything at all, make an excuse and leave. There’s no point in being a hero. And if for some reason you can’t leave and want back up, say something about having another appointment and we’ll be in the office in less than a minute. Got that?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, don’t worry about the microphone. It’s the best money can buy, so don’t give it a thought. We’ll hear everything that’s said.”
Eva found his efficient, detached manner comforting. “All right.”
“Okay, let’s get this done.”
Waving good-bye to Cole, who was now ensconced in the van, she walked across the open plaza to Wyndham’s front door and went inside. There were butterflies in her stomach. Now that she was inside the building, there was a horde of butterflies in her stomach, but she wouldn’t let it derail her. This was her best opportunity to prove her innocence once and for all.
Breathing deeply, she got on the elevator, which was, thankfully, empty, and pressed a floor. The elevator zipped up fourteen flights and made a pleasant ding as the doors opened. She stepped out. There was nobody in the waiting area. Excellent.
Cautiously, she approached the receptionist desk. Maryanne was flipping through a magazine. Eva knew that this was going to be the toughest part of her mission, getting past the gatekeeper. Not because Maryanne was so devoted to Ethan—she had only been working for him for five months—but because she liked wielding the little power she had.
Eva stood in front of the desk. “Hi.”
Maryanne finished reading the paragraph before looking up, but when she finally did her eyes practically popped out of her head. “E-eva,” she stuttered.
Not knowing what else to do, she smiled. “Is he in?” She gestured to the door of Ethan’s office.
Thrown off her game by Eva’s presence, Maryanne nodded. She didn’t make up a story about her boss being in a meeting, which she usually did when someone he didn’t want to see showed up at her desk.
“Do you mind if I ducked my head in there? He and I have some unfinished business,” Eva said.
The receptionist recalled the many articles she’d read about Eva’s relationship with her boss and could imagine very well the nature of that unfinished business. Ordinarily she would keep someone like Eva out—it was part of her job description to run interference with ex-girlfriends—but Ethan had criticized the length of her skirt that morning and she was happy to repay him in spades. She opened a drawer, reached for her purse and stood up. “Tell you what. If he asks how you got past me, say I wasn’t here.” Then she disappeared behind the door marked ladies’ room at the other end of the lobby.
Eva hadn’t expected to overcome the first obstacle so easily. All right, she thought, walking past the desk. Game on.
She knocked on the door twice in rapid succession before opening it. Ethan was at his desk, his head bent over the newspaper. Eva could guess what he was reading.
“I don’t have time for you now, Maryanne,” he said, not bothering to look up or stop reading the paper. Like employer, like employee.
“That’s all right,” she said as she closed the door quietly behind her. “I’m not Maryanne.”
At the sound of Eva’s voice, Ethan’s head shot up. He stared at her for a second, then leaned back in his chair with a smug grin on his face. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for you either.”
If Eva had had any doubts about Ethan’s duplicity, his reaction would have swept them away. An innocent man would have shown anger—she’d dragged his trusted family name through the mud—not this self-satisfied indifference. If only Jeffers had outfitted her with a camera as well. Surely that smile would get him seven to ten at Leavenworth. “I’m hoping you’ll make time.”
“Then you’re out of luck.” He pressed a button on the intercom. “Maryanne, would you please escort Ms. Butler from the building?”
Ms. Butler sat down across from him in a large cushioned chair reserved for invited guests. “She’s not there at the moment. She must have gone to the bathroom.”
He stood up, determined, she supposed, to escort her from the building himself. There was no reason for him to talk to her: He’d committed the perfect crime, and dallying with the one person who knew it would only endanger its continued success.
But she was also the one person he could gloat to.
“That’s not necessary,” she said, sinking deeper into the chair. “I’ve only come to thank you.”
Ethan halted in midstride. “Thank me?”
“Yes, thank you. Although you obviously don’t know it, you’ve done me a huge service.”
Several times he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Eva could tell that he was trying to make sense of her statement. She knew the exact moment he realized it was a setup. “Yes, thank me, of course.” He laughed for several seconds and rested his hip against his large mahogany desk. Eva waited. “You really can’t believe I’m that naïve. I know you have a microphone. It’s probably taped to your chest,” he said, leaning forward to look down her blouse. She sat still, even though she wanted to squirm from under his sleazy, prying gaze.
She shook her head. “No microphone taped to my chest or anywhere else,” she assured him. And it wasn’t a lie, not really. The microphone was hanging around her neck. “Why would I have a microphone?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re looking at an indictment from the federal government and searching for someone to point a finger at?” he said. “Well, you’ve come to the wrong place. After the shame you’ve brought down on this company, I can’t believe you’d show your face here.”
Now
he carted out indignation for the benefit of his audience.
“Of course you can. You know as well as I do that I had nothing to do with fixing the prices.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she forestalled him with her hand. “Nope, don’t say it, just in case they’re listening.” She looked around the office at the bookshelves and the filing cabinets. “You don’t think they’ve bugged the place, do you?”
She had him off balance. Her behavior since coming into his office wasn’t what he expected from an irate stooge. “Bugged the place?” he repeated. The idea had never occurred to him.
“Yeah, bugged the place. The Justice Department has been investigating Wyndham’s, Brooks’s and Davidge’s for several months,” she explained. “Don’t you think bugging the office of an innocent man is just the sort of thing the United States government would do?” She winked as she said “innocent man.”
Ethan suspected a trap, but he couldn’t see it. He didn’t like that at all and wanted her gone. “Ms. Butler, I really must insist that you leave. Don’t make me call security”—he picked up the phone to underline the threat—“and have them escort you out of the building. I think you’ve suffered enough embarrassment.”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll leave in a moment. I just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done, as long as you’re sure nobody’s listening,” she added. “It wouldn’t do for them to find out the truth now.”
“It wouldn’t?” he asked before he could help himself. He didn’t want to engage her further, but he couldn’t figure out what her game was.
“God, no,” she said emphatically. “This price-fixing scandal is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He sat down in his chair and stared at her. “You really can’t expect me to believe that.”
“The truth is, I don’t really care what you believe,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Why are you here?”
“Like I said, I want to thank you.”
“Because this price-fixing scandal is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”
“Exactly,” she said agreeably. Eva wasn’t sure she was making progress. He obviously didn’t trust her—smart man—but her game was too deep. He couldn’t see around it so he was stuck in the middle of it. She used this to her advantage. “Don’t get me wrong, when the Justice Department walked me out of here a few days ago, I was confused and afraid. They brought me to a dark little office with a hanging light bulb
—
precisely the kind you see on TV—and interrogated me for hours. At first I didn’t know what was going on. They kept asking the same questions over and over and I kept saying I didn’t know. And then it started to fall into place: the price-fixing scheme, how you’d set me up—”
“I did not set you up,” he said vehemently.
“No, no, of course. Ethan Wyndham did
not
set me up,” she loudly and precisely, as if speaking to an unseen audience who might be listening. Then she winked at him again. “Sorry, I meant, when I realized that
someone—
not you, of course—set me up, I was blindingly angry and completely terrified. You don’t know what it’s like to be in a bare office with a bright light shining in your eyes as government officials tell you you’re going to jail for twenty years. Holy fuck, worst moment of my life. It took all the strength I had to get home before I lost it completely.”
Ethan nodded. This was what he expected to hear. “That’s a sad little story, but you can’t expect me as a Wyndham to actually feel sorry for you: You reap what you sow.”
Eva gave him a thumbs-up and mouthed the words
nice touch
. “Yes, of course, we must all reap what we sow.” She spoke again for the suspected audience at large and winked for a third time.
The winking and the hand signals and the mouthed words were too much for him. “For God’s sake, the office is not bugged!”
She looked doubtful. It was an effort for her—she was so happy that she’d finally put him off his guard—but she managed to do it.
“You can talk freely in here,” he assured her. “Nobody is listening.”
She sat back in her chair and looked relieved. “So, like I was saying, I was completely freaked out by the Justice Department and terrified of what was going to happen next and convinced my entire life was about to fall apart. But it didn’t.”
“It didn’t?” There was patent disbelief in his voice.
“It didn’t.”
“Really?” he said with narrowed eyes.
“I
know
,” she told him. “I was as amazed as you. I thought for sure my life was ruined, but it’s not. Isn’t that wild?”
It was wild and impossible to believe. Price fixing was a serious violation of anti-trust laws. The fines and prison time were significant. Ethan knew all this. He’d looked into it himself and had his lawyers investigate it as well. “Your life is not ruined?”
“Nope, it’s actually better than ever,” she said with upbeat sincerity. “I’ve been offered a job—well, three, actually, if you want to be pedantic.”
He tilted his head. “Since the scandal hit the news, you’ve been offered a job? By whom? The Mafia?”
Eva laughed appreciatively. “That’s very funny—the Mafia. No, not them, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they came knocking as well. Everyone else seems to think I’m a mastermind. Why not them, too?”
Ethan leaned back in his black leather executive chair and considered her carefully. “Everyone thinks you’re a mastermind?” he asked, mildly amused by the idea.
He didn’t believe her. He was treating her like a silly girl who needed to be humored. Eva had no problem with that. The more he underestimated her, the better chance she’d have of getting him to admit the truth. “Yes, they think I’m a genius.”
“You, a genius?” Again, that entertained look.
“I know. It’s hard to believe. I mean, I’ve always been pretty good at my job, but all my life I’ve been what you’d call average. I’d get decent grades but not stellar. I’d do well in sports but not superstar well. It’s a novel feeling,” she said modestly, as if she weren’t enjoying it. “Heck, who I am fooling? It’s a
fantastic
feeling.”
“All right, I’ll bite: Who thinks you’re a genius?” He was still relaxed in his chair, still gazing at her in that avuncular, you’re-off-your-rocker way.
“Cole, for one.”
He sat up in his chair. “Cole, as in Cole Hammond?”
Well, she thought, I’ve finally gotten his attention. “Yes, he’s very impressed with my business acumen. He knows enough about business to realize how hard it is to pull off a scam as complicated and pervasive as my price-fixing scheme.”
“You’re telling me that Cole Hammond, the son of Coleman Hammond, one of the most honest and forthright businessmen of our time, the man who blew the whistle on his own company’s faulty accounting, is impressed with your scheme to cheat hundreds of people?” He was leaning forward now and his face was only inches away from hers.
“It came as a complete shock to me, too. By the time the Justice Department finally let me leave, I was convinced that what Cole and I had was over,” she said truthfully. “It seemed unlikely that he’d believe my protestations of innocence, especially after that scene in Le Bernardin in which you tried to break us up. For some reason—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I invited you to dinner because I found you extremely attractive,” he said, smiling lasciviously and looking pointedly at her legs. Her very stunning legs. “I still do, in fact.”
Although Eva was disgusted by his unmitigated gall—how dare he hit on her after all he’d done to ruin her life?—she found it encouraging. His tremendous ego would ultimately be his downfall. “Come, now, Ethan, let’s be honest with each other. You
say
the office isn’t bugged.” Her tone implied that she didn’t quite believe him. “If that’s true, there’s no reason for you to be so modest. Le Bernardin was a brilliant stroke, and it would have worked if your supposition had been accurate: that we were going to get the account because Cole and I were sleeping together.”
Ethan did not refute this. He might not be ready to talk openly, but he was done, at least for the moment, with denials.
“I didn’t see through your plan right away,” she continued. “At the time your behavior took me completely by surprise. You had never given any indication before….” She let the thought trail off. “I will admit that I was flattered by your interest and tempted, of course, but Cole Hammond, as the head of Hammond Industries, was by far the bigger fish. As I said, your plan would have worked, except for one thing: Cole had nothing to do with the selection of the auction house. That decision was exclusively his mother’s, and our relationship had nothing to do with it. He knew I knew it, which was why he didn’t believe the story you told him. But it was a very good story,” she assured him, “and if it had been anyone but Cole, he would have bought it hook, line and sinker. But Cole is different from other men.”