Dangerous Proposition (13 page)

“Obviously there’s something you’ve missed,” Colin said. He stalked toward Desmond and stared him down, something he’d been feeling the need to do more and more lately.

Getting a better look at him, he saw that his absentminded assistant had less fight in him than ever. The determination was gone from his gray eyes, and his stance was dull and dreary. A hooded sweatshirt took the place of his typical business attire. His usually groomed hair was falling all over the place.

“Maybe I don’t want to find it,” Desmond said, releasing what sounded like a strained breath. “I’ve actually been giving this a lot of thought. I was fine with all this risky stuff when it was only money on the line, but everything’s different now. What’s going to happen to me when they’ve got a gun pointed at
my
head?”

“I’m not exactly twisting your arm,” Colin said impatiently. “I’d say you’re well compensated for what little work you do.”

“This isn’t about the money,” Desmond insisted. “I’d be living on the street right now if it wasn’t for you—all of us would be. But I’m scared. This isn’t worth dying over.”

Colin leaned against the desk. Stroking his chin, he considered the odd possibility that Desmond had been paid off. The guy was a terrible liar, and it was possible he’d felt the need to take on a side project. He was certainly acting strangely enough.

“No one is keeping you chained to your post. If you’re no longer satisfied, you’re perfectly free to make other arrangements.”

Desmond seemed as though he was about to answer, but a noise from inside the next room captured Colin’s attention. It was loud, and it sounded like music. With his brows raised he walked to the adjoining door. He turned the knob, stepping slowly though.

Somewhere inside the room a cell phone was ringing. Colin walked to where the noise was coming from. He stepped past a slew of empty crates, a distinct odor filling his path. The scent became stronger as he opened the door to the closet behind it.

Looking down, he swore into the empty room. At his feet lay a dead body with a stone-gray complexion and a blood-soaked shirt. It wasn’t Tucker. The victim’s black hair and sideburns were undeniably those of David Lanore, one of his best security team members.

Colin sprang back. Feeling as though his insides were going to come through his throat, he covered his mouth and turned away.

The man behind him appeared to have been dead at least a day. He hadn’t known David that well, but he’d sent him to New York to watch over Tucker when things started getting ugly. The assignment had cost him his life.

Colin fought the urge to be sick. Aware that Desmond was beside him, he removed his hand from his face. “When was the last time you were here?”

“Yesterday. I assure you, there was no dead body when I was here.”

Colin crouched down. Looking the body over, he found the bullet wound. David had been shot in the heart.

Desmond backed away, fear and devastation in his eyes. He hesitated a long moment. “I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done for me. But I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.”

Colin’s jaw dropped. He’d thought for sure that Desmond was only bluffing. He could hardly begin to think about what Desmond quitting would mean. With both Tucker and Desmond out of the picture, getting things done in an efficient manner would become next to impossible. And at a time like this, with an employee missing in action and Julia Dyson in his care, not having an assistant would make things downright deadly.

He stood stiff. “Why should you be? I only hope that you’ve made the right decision. Because once you walk out that door, it will never be open to you again.”

With a look of deep regret, Desmond turned away. He walked from the room, not looking back.

Colin pounded his fist against the stack of crates beside him. Desmond had betrayed him. After everything he’d done for the man, Desmond had walked away. Perhaps he’d never really known him. Perhaps he’d never really known any of the people in his employ, Tucker included.

He and Julia were on their own now. And with a dead body on their hands, there was no telling what sort of danger they were in.

Colin stared at the empty doorframe. He’d told Desmond the door would never be open to him again. The words he’d sworn would never escape his lips, had.

* * * *

Julia circled the building that stood on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Twenty-Seventh Street for the fourth time. Looking up into one of the windows, she contemplated how she could get it open from the outside.

What was she thinking? Even if she could somehow open the window, there was no way she could climb up so high.

She kicked an empty soda. It was clear she wasn’t getting into the building through the front door. The place was privately owned. And the security guard she’d run into in the lobby had made it abundantly clear that a second attempt at getting in was going to result in a one-way ticket to the slammer.

Shaking her head, she sat on the steel, slated structure beneath her. Everything she’d done that morning had been a complete waste. After following Colin there, she’d purchased a newspaper from the man around the corner. Then, she’d taken a seat on the bench. Concealing herself behind her prop, she’d watched Colin enter the building, then followed him inside. Naturally, she’d been hoping to learn what he was up to. But the suited gentleman at the front desk, who had coffee breath and way too much time on his hands, had had other ideas.

Whatever Colin had been doing in that building, it didn’t look as if she was going to find out. At least not right now.

Slipping her hands into her pockets, Julia stood. As she took one final look at the facade, she recalled that there was a hot dog vendor around the corner. Brain food would help her formulate a game plan.

She treated herself to a hot dog and a Coke then walked to Fifth Avenue. Might as well make the most of her break time by running a few errands. She really shouldn’t go back to the apartment without some new clothes. Aside from the fact that everything she’d brought into the City had been stolen, showing up empty-handed might give Colin an indication of how she’d really spent the morning.

As she maneuvered her way through the crowd, she spotted a man with a bright-orange poster draped over his jacket. The tall African-American gentleman was passing out flyers. She attempted to step past him, but he thrust one of the flyers into her hands.

Straying from the crowd, Julia examined the brightly colored paper. Upscale dresses, handbags, and accessories were being sold at the boutique a few feet away.

She walked to a trash can. Holding the flyer over it, she presumed to show society exactly what she thought of its constant pressure to sex it up. But as she was about to drop it, a flash of Adrianna wearing that black minidress and boots came into her mind.

Julia grunted. Taking a step back, she helplessly envisioned the scenario from earlier that morning. Adrianna’s high-pitched voice. Colin’s bulging irises. Though the woman had looked more like she was going to walk the streets than the runway, there was no denying that her new roommate had been completely mesmerized as the bimbo strutted through his kitchen.

Julia crumpled the flyer into a ball. She could care less about what got the blood vessels in Colin’s lower half pumping. The man was a pig—she was only biding her time until she never had to see him again. But as he’d said, she didn’t blend in. At least not with the night crowd they were hanging around with.

She turned to where the man in orange was passing out flyers. The boutique they were for was called Alexandria’s, and it stood directly behind him. It was an upscale place with pink stained-glass windows and laced curtains. One item of merchandise probably cost more than the value of her IRA.

As she stepped through the door, she instantly regretted what she’d done. There wasn’t a single rack of clothing in sight. The place contained a hardwood floor and little else. There was a curtain in the corner, and a fancy white couch that looked as if it had come straight out of the Victorian era.

She made a dash for the door. Much as she enjoyed the thought of wasting Colin’s money, this place wasn’t her.

“Good afternoon, miss,” a tall brunette saleswoman with a perfectly coiffed hairdo and an eager smile said as she stepped from behind the curtain.

“Good afternoon,” Julia replied. “I was just—”

“You have an amazing complexion. I’m sure it won’t be too difficult for us to find you something that makes you look even more radiant than you already do.”

Was she supposed to be buying this? “Radiant?”

“What can we help you with today?”

Nothing, thanks. I was just leaving.
“Actually…” She turned, catching a glimpse of the mannequin in the window. Looking back at the saleswoman, she said, “I was wondering if I could try on that dress you have in the window.”

“The black halter gown?” The older woman gave an approving nod.

“No,” Julia explained, “the navy cocktail dress.”

“That dress would look sensational on you. Wait one moment while I get one in your size. A six, isn’t that right? Would you like something to drink? Coffee or mineral water?”

As good as that sounded, the last thing she needed was extra pressure. Normal young women were introduced to these sorts of places by their mothers, meaning they knew how to handle pushy sales personnel. Unfortunately, Julia hadn’t had the privilege of being one of them.

Taking a seat on what she believed was called a settee, she said, “No. I’m good, thanks.”

Moments later the saleswoman returned, holding the most amazing dress Julia had ever seen. The navy satin sparkled as she felt it between her fingers. The piece was heavy, yet light, like spaghetti. She’d never worn anything so expensive in her life. But she supposed there was a first time for everything.

She followed the saleswoman into a dressing area that was as big as her living room. The door was closed, and she was left alone in a carpeted area with mirrors on all sides. Alone, she took off everything but her bra and panties. She pulled the cocktail dress over her head, admiring her reflection from several angles when she had it fastened.

After securing the halter neck, the dress looked even better. It sculpted her silhouette perfectly, accenting the thinnest part of her waist, expanding her medium-sized chest. She could hardly believe a dress could have that sort of effect.

“How’s everything working out for you, dear?” the saleswoman called out to her.

Just peachy
. Julia cleared her throat. “Everything’s fine, thanks.”

Holy fashionista-haven. She’d done a lot of stupid things in her day, but this could quite possibly be the stupidest one of all. Of course, there was still time to walk away. But she hated the idea that she’d asked the saleswoman to go to so much trouble for nothing.

She took a good long look at her reflection. She was sure she was only buying into the sales hype, but she was amazed by what the navy color did for her complexion. Her cheekbones appeared higher, her hair a deeper shade of red.

She assured herself that she had no use for a dress like this, but her emotions were beginning to override her common sense. All she could seem to think about was how good she looked and the power she felt while wearing this dress. Envisioning walking into one of those parties with all eyes on her, Colin’s included, she beamed.

Shaking her head, Julia asked herself what in God’s name was wrong with her. She was standing in a boutique while her father’s life was in danger. Abigail would never let her hear the end of this, not to mention that little voice in her head that told her she was absolutely insane. She changed quickly and picked up her knapsack. Mind made up, she opened the dressing room door.

“How did everything work out for you?” the saleswoman asked.

Julia bit her lip. “I’ll take it. And a pair of heels to match, if you have them, in a seven.”

Maybe Colin really would look at her the way he had looked at Adrianna, if she were wearing this dress. Closing her eyes, she could almost see it, that naughty grin Colin had been wearing the night he’d held her in his bed. Shutting them tighter, she imagined him doing a whole lot more with his lips than just grinning.

“Your total comes to four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five dollars and fifty two cents,” the saleswoman said as she stepped behind the register.

Julia was keenly aware of the perspiration on her forehead as she handed over Colin’s credit card. She was almost positive that five grand wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he suggested she “buy a few new things.” But she wasn’t about to feel guilty about it after he’d insulted her the way he had. He’d practically forced her to go on this shopping expedition. She forged a smile as the saleswoman handed her the bag. Chin raised, she stepped through the door.

Outside, she released a big breath. She strayed from the boutique then took out the dress she’d purchased. Placing the piece inside her knapsack, she looked to see if anyone was watching. She tossed the shopping bag into the trash.

Julia hated the idea of wrinkling such an expensive item. But even more so, she couldn’t stand the thought of letting Colin think she’d wear something so risqué. In fact, she ought to go and buy something else, something a little more her style, just to show him that Julia Dyson didn’t dress for any man.

Hoping to find a place that sold jeans and novelty T-shirts, she started up the street. She smiled as she pictured the look on Colin’s face when he caught a glimpse of her new “purchases.” He’d be getting exactly what he deserved.

“I’m so sorry!” Julia said, almost colliding with a tall man wearing a trench coat. Stepping back, she said, “I swear I’m such a klutz sometimes.”

Getting a better look at the well-dressed man, her eyes went wide. Griffin, the guy she’d met at the party, stood before her.

“No need to apologize, sweets. I kind of enjoyed it.”

“It’s you,” she said, taking a gigantic step back. “What, a guy who owns a penthouse can’t afford a driver?”