Just One Night, Part 2_ Exposed(10)

I grit my teeth. Only Robert can switch from passion to business so easily. They occupy the same space in his heart. It’s the foreplay and the cuddling. Usually it is for me, too, but not this time. Not when every statistic and every kiss is a challenge.

“You’re team will need to reevaluate some things based on the new developments. Take one more week,” he says. “That should be enough time for you to figure out how you want to handle things. Shall I email your managing partner to inform him of the change?”

“No,” I mutter, “I’ll tell Mr. Love.”

“Very well.” He smooths his lapel one more time. “And then after that our business will either be through or not, depending on your determinations.”

I don’t miss the double meaning although he keeps his voice professional, his posture relaxed. “Oh, and Kasie? Just so you know”—he reaches for the door but doesn’t open it as he makes direct eye contact one more time—“I fantasized about you last night, too.”





CHAPTER 4





AS I STAND there in my empty office, frustrated and unsatisfied. I wonder, should I have told him? What if I had? Would he have rescued me?

I break out into a bitter laugh. This isn’t a fairy tale. Robert can’t get on his white horse and permanently seal Dave’s lips. I walk around my desk and fall into my seat. The quiet of the room is taunting me, reminding me that I can’t even risk a scream.

I reach for my appointment calendar and flip through the pages. I’ve always been a good planner. I still believe that if given time, I can outsmart Dave. I can get out. But I can’t risk Robert confronting him, thereby giving Dave more ammunition for his plot. I’ll figure out why Dave wants to hold on to me and how he discovered my secrets. . . .

. . . And then I’ll discover his.

I’ll discover his secrets and I’ll gag him with them. I’ll find his lies and weave them into a rope to bind his hands and feet. I’ll make him every bit as helpless as he thinks I am now.

You betrayed him first.

It’s the voice of the little angel on my shoulder. She’s feeling neglected lately. And why should I start listening to her again? She wants me to stay where I am and ponder things back into stasis. My devil is more proactive.

For instance, right now my devil reminds me to find out how Dave got to the marina.

He didn’t drive there and there was simply no way Dave would use public transportation. Yesterday had started with him saying he had an early-morning meeting. But what if he didn’t? What if he had waited in someone else’s car, parked discreetly on the street, just waiting to follow me?

A cab? No, probably not. Los Angeles is not New York, where the yellow cabs stream through the city streets like so many migrating salmon. In LA cabs of any color stand out, and if one had been parked on my street as I pulled out of my driveway, I would have noticed.

So someone had driven him. One of his coworkers or friends? But Dave would not have allowed himself to be humiliated in front of someone whose opinion he cared about. A private detective? Could Dave have had a professional follow me?

I look down at my appointment calendar again. I have a meeting with my team in forty-five minutes. I idly read the names of those who are reporting to me for this project: Taci, Dameon, Nin, Asha. . . .

Asha.

The buzzer for my intercom goes off and Barbara’s voice breathes through the speakers, letting me know that the long list of menial tasks I heaped upon her this morning have been attended to.

“Come into my office, please,” I say and then sit back as the door opens and she tentatively approaches my desk.

Barbara has been my assistant for as long as I’ve been here. Before that she was the assistant to a man who worked here as a consultant for ten years. She claims to be content with her quiet place in the corporate world, saving her energy for her husband and children at home. I’ve overheard her waxing poetic about the joys of having free time and a rich family life. I don’t understand her enthusiasm. It’s within the unstructured mess that qualifies as my free time that I stumble and thoughtlessly submit to whims that will later come back to haunt me. I love my parents, but my family life has been rich only in tragedy and denial. Barbara’s view of the world is as foreign to me as that of a tribesman in the Brazilian rain forest. But while I may not be able to relate to her, I certainly respect her strengths, one of them being her keen powers of observation.

“Did Asha come to work yesterday?”

“Yes,” Barbara says with a definitive nod.

Ah, she did. So she couldn’t have been the one to ferry Dave about. I sigh and place my chin in my hand. “All right, my team will be meeting in here at the end of the hour. Just hold my calls until it’s over.”