So close, p.16
So Close, page 16
How is it possible that this day keeps getting worse?
Kane’s face is as remote as his brother’s. “My assistant caught us up.”
Lily walks in as if she owns the place, heading to Darius. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t know. What can you do?” he retorts, bristling. But his shoulders slump when she simply stands there patiently, her face beautiful and eyes kind. “I don’t know where my wife is,” he mutters. “I need to call Ramin.”
“Let me handle that.” She holds her arm out behind her, and Kane walks to her, setting his phone in her hand. She taps in the code to unlock it as she steps away.
Is there no privacy between them? No secrets? There must be something, or I will never be able to break them apart.
Kane and Darius exchange a glance, and then both turn their faces toward me. My eldest’s face remains inscrutable, as always, but Darius has a look in his eye I haven’t seen before and don’t like at all.
“Why are you both looking at me like that?” I consciously work on dialing back my frustration.
Lily speaks quietly in the corner of the room. Somehow, within a minute, she’s become the hero and I the villain when I’m the one holding this family and company together. Where the hell has she been?
I lift my chin, resenting them all.
“Ramin took her to an emergency dentist on Madison,” Lily says as she rejoins them. “He’s texting you the address.”
“Thank you.” His face softens with gratitude. He leaves without saying a word to me.
Lily turns her gaze on me. “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything I can get you? Water or coffee, perhaps?”
“Thank you, Lily,” I tell her stiffly, offended by being treated like a fucking visitor. “I’m fine for now.”
What did I do to deserve two daughters-in-law like Amy and Lily? If Ramin even looks twice at a lanky brunette with green eyes, I’ll blind him.
“I’ll wait out there,” she tells Kane, but when she takes a step, he catches her hand and stops her long enough to kiss her. Like the kiss he gave her in the library when I met her, it’s a chaste melding of their mouths, suitable for my viewing. But it lingers a heartbeat longer than a peck, and sexual tension heats the air around them. As they part, their gazes exchange promises that confirm my fears – getting rid of her will be troublesome.
She shuts the door behind her, and Kane stares after her as if he can’t bear to have her out of sight.
He faces me with a hard look, as if braced for an unpleasant task. “I’m sorry you went through that while all three of us were out of the office.”
I press a hand to my forehead, fighting off a headache that feels like a knife shoved through my temple. “I’m just so upset with Amy. And upset for her, of course. Your brother doesn’t understand how badly she needs help. Maybe you could speak to him? He looks up to you. If you suggested a rehab program for Amy, he’d listen to you.”
“In no way do I feel comfortable commenting on his personal life.”
“He’s your brother!”
One of his darkly arched brows wings up as if to refute that.
I move over to my diffuser and wave the azalea-laden mist toward my face. I take a deep, calming breath. Arguing about Kane’s relationship with his siblings is a battle I’m not up to waging today. “Fine. Please, just think about it. Maybe Lily can discuss it directly with Amy?”
“I’ll mention it. Is there anything you need right now? I can take over something on your schedule so you can go home and get cleaned up?”
The bitterness clogging the back of my throat eases. I appreciate that he understands how greatly I contribute to Baharan. It’s infuriating having to stress the obvious all the time. “No, I can manage from home.” I take a calming breath. “Lily seems to be doing well. Are you returning to the office?”
“Not yet. We just happened to be close by, and I wanted her to see what we have here.”
Despair and excitement war inside me. “Any idea exactly when you’ll be coming back?”
“I’m shooting for the Monday after next, but that’s subject to change.”
“You’ve been gone for nearly two months as it is.”
“I’m aware of how long I’ve been working from home. I’m going to show her around now.” He’s already walking toward the door as if he’s done his duty and is eager to go. “I hope you feel better soon.”
“Yes. Of course I will.”
The moment the door shuts, I press both hands against my mouth, physically holding back the argument boiling inside me. I stumble to the sofa and drop like a stone. I want a drink so badly my mouth is watering. Oh no … I’m becoming Amy.
The thought is almost enough to spur hysteria.
Not again. I shake my head violently. I’m not losing control again. This is an opportunity, and I won’t squander it. I will continue building the company Kane can’t even envision yet. Then he’ll see. They’ll all see.
Although just having had someone else’s bodily fluids spat all over me is sickening, I accept the discomfort and move to my desk. It’s not as if the feeling is unfamiliar. I pull up the security cameras on the main floor and settle in to wait. Eventually, my utter stillness causes the motion sensor-activated overhead lights to turn off, just as they would have done if I’d left for the day. Anyone walking by would assume I’d gone. All the office doors are set within walls of frosted glass, an aesthetic choice to match the cubicles but also a way to ensure the natural light from the exterior windows brightens the entire floor.
I don’t know how long I sit there, watching Kane take Lily around to all the executive offices. It becomes a repeating cycle: awe at her beauty, followed by the universally shocked expression that he would suddenly have his wife back, and finishing with being wholly charmed by whatever interaction they had with her. Kane has so easily stepped into the role of accessory, allowing her to shine. His gaze never leaves her, and he wears a warm smile of pride and male appreciation.
Any idea I’d entertained of my eldest being impartial is shot to hell.
They pause at Kane’s cubicle. Kane, the CEO and Chairman of the Board, has no office. He commands from a workspace among and alongside staff. It’s infuriating. If we had equal offices, it would make the right statement. Instead, his egalitarian leadership approach seems effortless, making me look like I’m trying too hard.
I square my shoulders. I’m not trying to look powerful. I am powerful. My sons’ unfortunate choices of wives won’t interfere with that.
Kane cleans out his desk, shoving files and other items into his satchel. Lily smiles at the employee on the other side of the glass partition. They begin to chat. Kane steps out and urges his wife into his space with a hand at her elbow. In short order, she’s sitting on the edge of his desk with her long legs crossed, and everyone has gathered around. She appears to be telling a story, her arms and expression animated. There is amusement on the faces of everyone, and not a single fucking employee is doing their damn job except for reception, which one person is apparently managing because two of them are listening to Lily.
“I see you,” I hiss at her, my eyes narrowed. There is nothing sweet or disarming about her. She’s a woman who understands the power of her appearance. She’s observant. She compliments women on their jewelry and leverages personal items on desks and cubicle walls to establish rapport. She smiles and reaches for Kane often, touching his sleeve every few moments. It’s an act I recognize, a performance any attractive woman with a brain would see right through.
Eventually, my son and his wife leave, and my attention turns to his admin, Julian. I’ll have wasted my time if Julian doesn’t take off for lunch. As the minutes tick by, I think that’s exactly what I’ve done. But then he stands, stretches, pulls on his jacket, and heads toward the front.
I send my schedule for the next two weeks to the printer, then leave my office to collect it from the copy room. I pass the break room on the way and am relieved that Julian isn’t there. If he’s left the building, I’ll have an even larger window of time. I grab the papers from the tray, shove them into a folder, then walk with purpose toward Kane’s desk.
This would be so much easier if he had a damned office! His cubicle is wide open to the floor, leaving me no way to be discreet. All I can do is act as if I have every right to log into his terminal, which I do. We’re talking about my company. I’m the Chief Operations Officer, after all.
Most of the floor is empty, although a handful of employees eat at their desks. I sit at Kane’s station, dropping the folder on the desktop as an excuse to be there. Pulling out his keyboard tray, I wake the system and log in with his password, which is stored in the database that logs every keystroke and phone call made on every Baharan terminal. The pharmaceutical industry is cutthroat, and we must be ever vigilant against corporate espionage and cyber theft.
Once I’m in, I look at his calendar, running through his appointments. Every meeting is set for either a video conference or a phone call. A doctor’s visit was scheduled for this morning, which explains why he’s not actively working from home at the moment.
I open his browser and then his private mailbox. I’ve never been able to get into it before and may never be able to again. Today is a rare perfect storm when he’s been in the office, then left without me, and his admin is out to lunch. In the future, if he goes through the security logs, will he remember if he checked his email from his desk before leaving for nearly two weeks? Will he remember what time he left? I don’t think so.
A steady stream of adrenaline pumps through my veins, dampening my palms. My feet tap to purge the restless energy. I scroll swiftly, my eyes darting back and forth as I power-read every subject line and sender. Near the bottom is an unread email that catches my attention and holds it. The sender is Rampart Protection & Investigative Services, and the subject reads, Final Report and Case Termination.
My heart pounds so hard it begins to hurt. My fingers tremble as they hover over the keys.
Is he on to me?
He’s smart enough. Why else would he use an outside firm instead of Baharan’s in-house team? Doesn’t he trust our people? Could he trust them to investigate me, considering my position within the company? I can’t imagine he knows I’ve occasionally encouraged the head of our security to fuck me on his desk. Rogelio is too thorough to get caught. Then again, Kane has repeatedly shown that he’s aware of more than he should be and ruthless when necessary.
Except when it comes to his wife.
I hate the nervousness that crawls around and between my vital organs, like a million ants have invaded my body. Darius is more vulnerable to accusations of treachery than me; I ensured that. Still, I could better protect us both if I had advance warning.
“Identify the problem,” I coach myself as I open the email. “Then dissect it.”
I recognize the guilt that mists my skin with sweat and leads me to wild conclusions without basis. I’ve been too careful, and Kane’s been too oblivious.
* * *
Dear Mr. Black,
* * *
Please find attached the final case report of our investigation for your records. It provides a summary overview and analysis of the findings you and I discussed previously. The case is now closed, as per your request.
* * *
We appreciate your business and hope we’ll have the pleasure of working with you again in the future.
* * *
All best,
Giles Prescott
--
Owner / Lead Investigator
Rampart Protection & Investigative Services
* * *
The sharp points of my nails dig into the soft flesh of my palm. The pain centers me and reminds me that I can survive anything. I’ve already survived the worst that can happen to a woman. Anything else is an annoyance, nothing more.
I open the attachment, scroll past the cover sheet, and my stomach drops. I hardly breathe, arrested and unmoving.
Lily.
Kane has been investigating his wife. And not just recently. Rampart’s report begins by detailing the initial scope of the investigation and the date it began, which was shortly after she was declared dead. Six years. My mind struggles to accept the extent of the scrutiny. What could possibly take six years to dig up?
I force myself to relax muscles that have gone stiff with strain. My mouth curves into a broad smile. It’s not Amy I need to focus on; it’s Lily. The flight instinct transitions fluidly to fight.
I’m no longer the prey; I am the hunter.
I send the file to the printer, close the email and mark it as unread. I make a mental note: I may need to arrange a meeting with Rogelio to erase those telltale keystrokes. If our security chief were a more attentive lover, I wouldn’t put it off.
I backtrack out, closing everything I opened before turning the terminal off.
Standing, I take a deep breath and touch a hand to my hair. It feels like I’ve run a marathon, the waning adrenaline spike leaving me shaky and breathless. I push the chair beneath the desk, ensuring nothing is out of place. Then I head back to the copy room.
Is it all an act, Kane’s affection for Lily? Perhaps she’s not the only one playing a role. There is something about her he questions deeply enough to investigate. Considering her stake in Baharan, I have a right to know what he suspects and how damaging it might be to the company.
The printer is still spitting out pages when I get there. By the time the job finishes, the stack is an inch thick. I straighten them, put them into a manila envelope and head back to my office for my purse. Then I leave for the day.
I have a lot of homework to do.
30
LILY
Long before we reach I-287, I know we’re headed to Connecticut. The happy fluttering in my belly settles in for the ride. My anticipation and excitement are alive within the confines of the Range Rover. You are at the wheel; I am in the passenger seat beside you. Witte was picked up at the Crossfire by another driver.
Before we left the city, you relayed quick orders, which I hardly paid attention to because you were undressing on the sidewalk in front of the Crossfire.
You removed your jacket first, highlighting the leanness of your waist. The well-defined muscles of your back flexed as you hung the garment from an OEM hanger attached to the driver’s seat headrest. Your tie was next; the tie clip and your cufflinks slipped neatly into your coat pockets. Then, you unbuttoned your collar and rolled up your sleeves, your biceps briefly straining the luxe material of your shirt.
You were quick and efficient, your actions commonplace, but your body moves with such power and vital sensuality. You are devastatingly handsome and urbane. It amused me how completely oblivious you were to the number of covetous glances you’d provoked in bystanders by the time you said farewell to Witte.
Then you assisted me into the front seat and revealed you were aware of my admiration all along. “We won’t make it out of the city if you keep looking at me like that.”
“If you keep looking that hot, it’s your fault.”
It’s a veneer, of course, a professional polishing. You must have applied yourself obsessively to have made such a perfect facade for Kane Black. But you were always eager to learn, to rise. You just needed the opportunity – and the money – to make the transformation possible.
Now, I’m free to study you to my heart’s content. The city traffic is far behind us, and trees line the highway. Stevie Nicks sings about waters closing around her. The driver’s seat is slid back to its farthest point to accommodate your long legs. You control the steering wheel with your left hand, leaving your right hand to rest lightly on your thigh. You are relaxed and completely in control of the powerful vehicle.
You wear no watch. There is only golden skin from your elbows to the tips of your fingers, bare but for a sprinkling of dark hair and the wedding band that proclaims you as mine. Such an innocent thing, the baring of your forearms and the minimalist adornment, but I find everything about your appearance profoundly erotic. I always have.
We talk about some of the people I met at your headquarters. It’s clear you take a personal interest in your employees from the amusing anecdotes you share. That they feel free to laugh with you and share private stories reveals a great deal about your leadership style.
“Why did you bring your family into Baharan?” I ask.
“You know I didn’t have a choice with my mother since she originated and owned the Baharan trademark. She agreed to assign it to the company in return for a stake, and she invested to gain an even larger share, using royalties from licensing my father’s chemical patents until they expired. And honestly, the company needed someone else who wanted it as badly as I did.”
You look at me. “I was barely functioning after I lost you. And the company was little more than a logo that needed refreshing and a handful of staff nearly as lifeless as I was.”
With a deep sigh, I share your grief, although it’s not for the girl I once was, it’s for the boy you once were. Your mother’s emotional immaturity damaged your self-esteem. You’ve always struggled with feelings of inadequacy. Working with her is the worst possible outcome. How will you ever recover when new wounds are inflicted so often?
“Why bring your brothers and sister into it?”
Your shoulder lifts in a shrug. “They’re employees, not shareholders. My mother suggested that having family in key positions would make it easier for me to do what I want, and she was right. Darius has his moments, but he falls in line. Ramin comes off as a slacker, but it’s an act. He’s CLO, and hates being wrong, which is an advantageous flaw when you’re an attorney.”
