Foolish Notions (11 page)

“Told you I needed it,”
Samantha said.

“Sammy, you look flush.”
Paul pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. “Are
you feeling well?”

James shifted his position. Of course
she’s flushed, she just got done kissing me, you idiot.

“I’m fine. Really.”
She raised her shoulders and then let them fall again. “Things
have just been a little busy lately.”

“That’s all?”

She smiled. “That’s all.”

Paul’s thumb brushed her chin.
“If you say so.”

James raised a brow when his gaze met
Samantha’s. “Forget I’m here?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Good.”

Samantha took a step away from Paul as
she made introductions. “Paul, this is my boss, James Taylor.
James, this is Paul—”

“Yes, we’ve met.”
James’s tone turned hard, and he never took his eyes off
Samantha.

“Well, then . . .” she said
awkwardly.

“Sammy, we better get going,”
Paul said.

“Yes, we better.” She
turned her attention back to James.

“Good night, James.”

Paul raised his hand in a friendly
wave. “It was nice meeting you, James. Your home is very
impressive.”

James followed Samantha to the door and
reached for her arm. As she was about to exit, he spoke, “Will
you excuse us, Paul?” He pulled her back into the house.
“Samantha,” he put great emphasis on her full name, “and
I will be just a minute.”

“What do you think you’re
doing?” Samantha managed to get out as James hauled her through
the foyer, past his office, and into the living room.

He didn’t release her arm as he
whipped her around and stopped. “I could ask you that same
question.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Just where the hell do you think
you’re going?”

Samantha yanked her arm from his grip.
“Wherever the hell I want to.”

“Samantha, I’m in no mood
for your sarcasm,” he all but growled.

“You are completely out of your
mind if you think you can intimidate me.” Her eyes narrowed.
“You can inflict your rude, appalling, and extremely nauseating
manner on me, but how dare you do it to Paul? He’s an innocent
bystander.”

“Innocent my ass.”

“Excuse me?” she shot out
furiously.

James’s hands were planted on his
hips, his eyes glistening like daggers as he stared at her. “What’s
this Sammy crap?” He made a sour face at the nickname. “Who
the hell does he think he is, calling you Sammy?”

“I don’t have to answer to
you. Where I go on my time is my business. Whom I choose to spend
that time with is also my business.” She looked at her watch.
“Look at that, it appears to be my time.”

Oh, Jesus, he couldn’t even say
the word. He wanted to ask her if Paul was her boyfriend but his
mouth wouldn’t form the words. He hadn’t even considered
her having a boyfriend. He swallowed hard, opened his mouth, closed
it, and then opened it again. “I don’t like the way he
touches you.”

Her gaze leveled, her eyes narrowed.
“And that’s my problem how?”

“He touches you like he knows
you.” His jaw clenched as his eyes moved over her. “Like
he knows your body.” Swallowing, he finished. “I don’t
like the thought of anyone knowing your body but me.”

“I’m leaving.” She
turned. “Like I said before, good night, James.”

“Stop,” James demanded.
“Tell me who he is.”

She stopped and then turned. “He’s
a friend,” she said after a moment.

“He doesn’t look at you
like he’s just your friend.”

She shifted the gym bag to her other
hand. “I’m sorry you don’t like the way he touches
me or looks at me. There’s nothing I can do about that.”
Lifting her shoulders, she added, “Not that I would.”

He sucked in a long breath, trying to
control his annoyance. “I don’t recall you ever being
this sassy before.” If it wasn’t for the hint of jealousy
he was feeling, he knew that he would be enjoying her brazen ways. “I
guess I’m going to have to start calling you my sassy angel.”

“I’m not your angel
anymore.”

“Are you Paul’s?”
Irritation crept through him. He didn’t like feeling this way.
When Samantha had been with him there had never been any reason for
jealousy. She had been his, without a doubt. No one else mattered.

“I don’t understand what
your problem is.” She lifted her shoulders, and then dropped
them. “You don’t want me; you never did.”

“I was devoted to you.”

“That’s bullshit,”
she snapped angrily.

He pushed the words through his teeth.
“Answer the question, Samantha. Who the hell is he?”

She, too, gritted her teeth when she
spoke. “I don’t believe that’s any of your
business. And I don’t believe I have to answer any of your
questions.”

“Perhaps Paul would like to know
that only moments ago you were passionately kissing—”

“I told you, he’s a friend.
And you’re mistaken if you think there was passion in that
kiss.”

His gaze fell to the floor as he tried
to control his emotions. “How good of a friend?”

She hesitated and adjusted her bag in
her hand again. She looked over her shoulder toward the door before
she spoke. “Good enough to be my yoga instructor.”

He looked up swiftly. “Yoga
instructor?”

“Yes. He also happens to be my
chiropractor.”

“Chiropractor?” James
puckered his lips as he said the word. “That’s all? He’s
nothing more than a friend, instructor, and chiropractor?”

“Why, are you going to beat him
up if he is?”

“I’ve thought about it.”

“Will you grow up?” she
snapped, shaking her bag in irritation. “There is nothing
between us.”

“At least not on your part.”

“On his part either.”

“I saw the way he was looking at
you.” The muscle in his jaw flexed again. “I’m a
man. I know what’s going through his mind.”

“I promise that’s not what
was going through his mind. We are friends. That’s all we’ve
ever been that’s all we’ll ever be.” She looked
down at her watch. “Are you satisfied now?”

A smile slowly pulled at the corner of
his lips. “Not nearly as satisfied if the kiss—”

“I don’t have time for
this. Good night, James.” As she walked out of the room she
said, “And that’s the last good night you’re going
to hear tonight. I’m going to be late for class.”

“There is one more thing.”
He didn’t respond to her twisted frown as he stepped behind
her. “Don’t ever introduce me as your boss again.”

“You’re paying me, so that
makes you my—”

James just shook his head. “I’m
not, nor will I ever be your boss.” That was the last thing he
wanted to be in her life. He reached his hand out and touched her
face lightly. His fingers glided over the arch of her cheekbone and
down the length of her jaw. The blond bun that had gold wisps of hair
shooting in different directions begged to be freed. The gold hoops
in her ears were as delicate as her facial features. When Samantha
raised her arm indicating the time, he nodded and leaned into her
ear. He lingered for a moment before he spoke softly. “Have a
good class, Angel.”

James and Raymond decided against the
company car and they each took separate taxis to Sharp Plaza Bar &
Grill, downtown in the heart of the business and financial districts.
James had chosen the restaurant not for its location but because the
casual bar provided private rooms where business could be conducted.
Raymond arrived five minutes after him. They sat and made idle
conversation as they waited for Al.

“How’s your mom?”
Raymond asked.

“She starts her treatment today.”

Raymond only nodded, with a grim
expression. “Samantha’s taking care of her right?”

“Yes.”

“How’s that working out?”

“So far, so good.”

Raymond stared down at the table. “I
feel helpless in a situation like this, but if there’s anything
I can do you’ll let me know?”

“Of course I will.”

“Cynthia sends her best.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
James then asked about Raymond and Cynthia’s kids. They had two
daughters. One had just graduated from college and the other had just
started. They talked for a while before they moved on to the stock
report. It was another ten minutes before Al was quietly showed into
the room.

“Thanks for meeting us here,”
James said as he stood and extended his hand.

Al nodded and then reached for
Raymond’s hand after shaking James’s. “Thank you
for being discreet. You know how vital I believe it is.”

“Yes,” James said,
gesturing to a chair. “I haven’t forgotten.”

After they sat, a waitress immediately
appeared. Once their orders were given and they were alone, Al spoke.
“Is it the same thing as last time?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,”
James said as he shook his head.

“In less than three months we are
going to release a new electronic program that will essentially
transform programming as we know it.”

Al nodded. “Serious stuff.”

“Very,” James acknowledged.
He continued, “I’ve gone to great lengths to keep this
confidential. I learned my lesson last time. Or at least I thought I
had.”

Flipping open a small, rectangular
notepad, Al wrote and spoke at the same time. “If you have
anything that gives you an edge over competitors, rest assured that
your competitors will make all attempts to find out about it. You
might have learned a lesson last time, but in this business, methods
of gathering information are always evolving. That means we must keep
up.”

James grimaced. “That’s why
I’ve hired you, to keep up with them.” He looked over to
Raymond, then back to Al, who was still writing. “However,
we’re not so sure if it’s the competition this time or if
it’s internal.”

Al looked up. “It won’t
take me too long to figure that out.”

With a serious expression, Raymond
stared at Al. “We implemented all your suggestions from last
time and still there was a leak. It’s beyond me how this
happened.”

Al nodded. “It happens. What’s
been going on with the company? With the exception of this new
technology that you’re going to be releasing, tell me about any
other major happenings.”

Between them, James and Raymond filled
Al in on all the particulars. Their food came and as they ate they
conversed; they made certain to touch on everything, no matter how
minor. They knew they couldn’t leave anything out. If they did,
it could jeopardize Al’s investigation.

“Internal or not, I think your
guilty party may be thinking the commotion from the Europe merger
will divert your attention,” Al pointed out.

James nodded in agreement. “We
figured that much.”

“I’d like to have a list of
the names of the associates who are involved in this merger. Both
here and in Europe.”

Raymond plucked a pen from his breast
pocket. “I’ll take care of that.”

“You just let me know what you
want to do. I want this done and over with as soon as possible,”
James said firmly.

“I understand, Mr. Taylor. I
think I’m going to look at the managers first while you’re
getting me the information on the merger.” Al stopped and
thought for a moment. “You have cameras in the parking garage,
don’t you?”

“Yes, for security reasons,”
James said.

“I’ll need the footage from
the last two months sent to my office. I’ll get the license
plate numbers from all the managers’ vehicles and then we’ll
see who’s coming and going and at what times.”

Raymond kept writing. “I’ll
have it sent to your office.”

Al nodded and closed the small notepad.

“Is that all?” James asked.
He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin, then dropped it on his empty
plate.

Al slid a two-page contract across the
table to James. “Confidentiality clause.”

James stared at the papers for a long
moment, fingering them until one corner was tattered. Irritation and
frustration crept through him. Contemplation wasn’t
necessary—he knew what his responsibility was—but he
didn’t like the position it put him in. He felt Raymond shift
uncomfortably next to him.

“Mr. Taylor,” Al began, “I
can’t begin the investigation until—”

James looked up briefly, his expression
silencing Al.

“You know I make all my clients—”

James quickly signed the papers.
“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” he said firmly.

Al stood up and nodded curtly. “I’ll
be in touch.”

* * * * *

James gripped the long-stemmed roses in
his hand as he ascended the stairs. He had agonized over whether he
should call the hospital to see how his mom was doing, but then he
decided against it. This morning she had given specific instructions
that he was not to worry about her or go to the hospital. He
respected her wishes although it was extremely hard to do so.
Besides, that was what Samantha was there for. She could handle
anything that came up. Turning on his heel he stopped and knocked
softly on the bedroom door. He didn’t want to wake her if she
was sleeping. It was seven-thirty, nearly five hours since her first
treatment.

“Hi. You’re home early,”
Samantha said as she opened the door just wide enough to poke her
head out.

“It’s seven-thirty.”
James pointed out.

“Is it that late already?”
She glanced at the gold-linked watch around her wrist. “I
didn’t realize what time it was. When did you get home?”

“Just now. I had a meeting that
ran late. How is my mom doing?” He stepped forward. “May
I see her?”

Samantha hesitated. “This isn’t
a good time right now.”

“Is everything all right?”
James felt a lump form in his throat, and he began rapidly firing
questions. “Is something wrong? Why didn’t you call me?
If something’s wrong you should have phoned.” His hand
moved from his beeper at his hip to the small cell phone in the
breast pocket of his suit. “Shelly didn’t say—”