Fractured (3 page)

“I told you that I saw him earlier!” Kayla said triumphantly. “And you didn't believe me!”

“So what exactly are you doing here, Hunter?” Mrs. Ross asked, her voice as cold and hard as a slab of marble.

Amber stared ahead, trying not to give herself away. She couldn't look at Hunter because she was supposed to be an uninvolved client. But she could almost picture Hunter's eyebrows shooting up at the question.

“Unlike either of you, I have every right to be here any time I wish,” Hunter said, his voice deadly calm.

Mrs. Ross tried another tactic. A forced smile stretched across her face.

“Sorry, Hunter. You startled us. Our printer at home is on the blink and I decided to stop by and photocopy a few things. I hope it's okay. My husband thought that it wouldn't hurt since it's only a few items.”

Hunter dropped Amber's arm.

“I wish I had known,” he said, his voice smooth. “I would have had my new assistant take care of it for you.”

Hunter moved to the machine.

“Jessica, why don't you finish this job for my dear friends,” he said.

It took Amber a second to realize that
she
was supposed to be Jessica.

“Oh, that won't be necessary,” Mrs. Ross said, blocking Hunter with her own body. “I'm sure that your assistant has more important things to do than to take care of my personal documents.”

“Interestingly enough, she has extra time on her hands today. I was hoping to find something for her to do.”

Amber peeked at Hunter's face and saw that he was smiling with his mouth. But the smile never reached his eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes were stormy as the sea. She was glad she wasn't on the receiving end of that look.

Mrs. Ross laughed. “You're being such a sweet gentleman. But I really must insist on finishing this ourselves. We have some sensitive tax information.”

“Oh, dear me!” Hunter said. “Then I prefer you not use the photocopier. I'm afraid of the liability if something sensitive goes missing.”

Mrs. Ross tried to maintain her smile. “I'm sure that your mother would want you to treat me a bit more respectfully.”

Hunter's face scrunched in concern.

“My dear, Mrs. Ross. How have I offended you? I simply want to  keep your confidential papers secure.”

“I can take responsibility for my papers,” Mrs. Ross said. “Surely you have other important matters to attend to than babysitting me while I try to get a few things copied.”

“I have all day, Mrs. Ross!” Hunter exclaimed. “Can you believe it? I wasn't even supposed to be in today. But my schedule unexpectedly changed.”

He held out an arm. “Come on. Let me take you to the conference room and get you a cup of coffee. I haven't seen you in awhile and I'd love to catch up.”

At just that moment, a few employees walked by. Mrs. Ross eyed them warily and then decided it would look suspicious so leave Hunter there with his hand extended in front of him.

“Kayla, finish up this set and wait for your father to bring the rest,” she said, with a hard look at her daughter.

Hunter turned and smiled at Amber.

“Jessica, be a dear and give Kayla a hand with the papers.”

“Um . . . Yes, Sir,” Amber responded in a high voice.

She was going for a French accent but saw Hunter roll his eyes. Hopefully, Kayla and Mrs. Ross wouldn't hear the false notes. But then she remembered the camera that Hunter had already slipped into her purse.

“Excuse me, Mr. Webb!” she called out nervously. “Could you just take my purse and put it down somewhere for me?”

Hunter's hand moved to the front of his jacket before he stopped short.

“Let me just get out my wallet,” Amber said lamely, making sure her fingers covered both the wallet and the camera.

Hunter stepped up, blocking her hand from view of either Kayla or her mother. Amber quickly stuck the camera in his hand.

“Oh, silly me! I forgot I have no pockets in this dress,” she announced.

Hunter turned so that both women could see her stuff the wallet back into the purse.

Amber's cheeks burned from her terrible job as an actress. But at least Hunter now had the camera in hand.

“Jessica, why don't you check the paper supply?” Hunter asked in a casual, almost bored voice.

“I heard the receptionist grumbling that we were low on paper when I came in.”

Amber blinked and nodded.

“Yes, Sir!”

Was that a hidden message? She obediently opened the closet and pulled out a ream of paper. At least this would buy a little time.

“Let me just fill this up first,” she said to Kayla, interrupting her.

She knelt with the ream of paper. “If it gets too low, the whole thing jams up and starts chewing up the original documents.”

“I'm sure it's fine,” Kayla said, trying to move her away.

“Oh, but if anything happens to your papers my head is on the line,” Amber said brightly.

“Oh, Mademoiselle, I really need to keep this job.”

Kayla sighed as she stepped back. “Please hurry! My mother is not the most patient person in the world.”

Amber pulled out several of the trays.

“Oh, dear, Mademoiselle. This doesn't look good. I think something is already stuck in this back mechanism here. Give me a second to get it out.”

Reaching deep into the machine, Amber pretended to tug at something.

“Don't tear it!” Kayla pleaded, suddenly alarmed.

Amber pretended to use both hands. She subtly crumpled the end of a paper and then suddenly jerked upward, making sure that the paper tore as she stumbled backwards into the machine. She stuck a hand backwards, as though to prevent herself from falling, and shoved the folder of papers onto the floor.

“Oh, my goodness, Mademoiselle,” she said shrilly, bending as though to recover the papers scattered on the floor. Instead, she shoved them further out, making an even worse mess of things.

“You clumsy idiot!” Kayla shrieked, dropping to the floor and scrambling in all directions.

Amber grabbed as many papers as she could while wailing loudly.

“Oh, I am so terribly sorry, Mademoiselle! Oh, please don't tell my new boss! Oh, I can't lose another job. My bills are due!”

Meanwhile, Amber thrashed across the floor, knocking into Kayla every time the girl succeeded in getting an armful of papers.

Employees poured out of their offices to see what the commotion was. Even Mr. Ross showed up. But, strangely enough, Amber didn't see Hunter or Mrs. Ross. There was no way that either hadn't heard the chaos.

“Oh, what is this?” Amber cried, seeing one of the officers of the company step into the hall.

“These are company files!” Amber innocently turned to Kayla. “Mademoiselle, you are in possession of our company's very sensitive files!”

Kayla looked panicked as she stood up, looking around furtively. She started to back away, but the Chief Financial Officer for the company put an arm on her shoulder.

“I'd like to speak with you, young lady,” he said, motioning to a security guard to join him as he advanced in Kayla's direction.

“And who are you?” he asked, looking pointedly at Amber.

“She's with me. Don't worry about her.”

Amber jumped as she felt Hunter's arm touch her waist. 

“We can go now,” he whispered in her ear. “Our security guys have all they need. My dad is already waiting for the police to arrive. I'll give them my statement later.”

Amber followed Hunter out through a throng of curious employees. When they got to the reception area, Mrs. Ross was screaming at a security guy.

“You can't keep me here. I was just visiting my husband. I'll sue this company for harassment!”

Hunter ignored the commotion and headed for the door. With a nod of his head, both he and Amber were allowed to leave.

“You might want to take this before someone thinks I just robbed you,” Hunter said as they stood by the elevators.

Amber noticed her purse in his hand for the first time. She suddenly felt as weak and spent as though she had run a couple of miles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hunter slid an arm around her waist.

“That was a little tense in there,” Amber said, wanting to simply snuggle up against his body and forget all that had just happened. Her nerves were on edge.

“Nobody was in any actual danger,” Hunter said, squeezing her against his warm body.

“I had extra security guys there all day. People were watching all the entrances and exits.”

“Oh,” Amber said, feeling a bit dumb.

Of course Hunter had planned everything out with precision. Unlike her.

She peeked up at Hunter and saw that he was rubbing his temple.

“So did security get what they needed to stop the Ross family?”

Hunter shook his head as though to clear it. He stepped away from her and she was unable to read his face. Was he angry?

“Yes,” he said, rather absently. “At the very least, they won't be able to do any further damage. And my father will be pressing charges. I anticipate that either one or both of Kayla's parents will be doing jail time based on the evidence already collected.”

“That's good, right?” Amber asked.

If Hunter was not concerned about the Ross family then that only left her for him to be angry with.

Then she thought of her own contribution. Stopping Kayla from copying the papers had been brilliant! Why wasn't he thanking her?

“Didn't I help out at the end?” she asked, her voice a mixture of defiance and hopefulness.

Hunter sighed.

“The hallway was already being monitored. As I believe I told you earlier. We wanted to see if Kayla would actually be an accomplice without her mother looking over her shoulder.”

Amber stood stock still, trying to work out what he was saying. Did he actually mean that she had hindered the investigation by preventing Kayla from copying the documents?

“But she was already helping her mom,” she sputtered at last. “What does it matter what she did on her own?”

“Maybe nothing,” Hunter said, his voice resigned. “Just forget it.”

“No,” Amber said, getting angry. “If you think that I screwed up today, then I want to know about it.”

Her eyes swung to the elevator door as a soft ding announced they had reached their floor.

Hunter smacked the stop button with a resounding smack and Amber jerked back. His gorgeous green eyes were hard to see at the moment because he was squinting at her like she was insane.

“Can't you just drop this?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Why are you pushing me? It's like you want me to say something that I'll regret.”

Amber felt as though she might explode. It was as if all of her frustrations with Hunter's power struggles were rising to the surface. She was like a bottle of soda that had been dropped and shaken. One little twist and everything was going to spew out in a rush. She couldn't think straight. Even now he was trying to control things, to micro-manage both his emotions as well as her own.

“You are such a maniac," she said, her voice near shouting. “I feel like you want me to be a delicate piece of artwork that can be admired and loved but always kept on a shelf!”

She leaned over to open the door, but Hunter grabbed her hand.

“We'll talk about this when we get back to the hotel,” he growled.

“This is exactly what I'm talking about!” Amber shouted, yanking her hand back from his and pulling away.

“You even want to control when and how we argue! Do you get how annoying that is?”

Hunter had the nerve to gape at her. He slammed the elevator button and stalked out as soon as the doors opened. Walking swiftly down the corridor, he powered through the giant lobby doors, only stopping to say something quickly to the doorman on duty. And then he stalked off down the street, disappearing from view.

Amber stepped out of the elevator, still steaming mad. Even now, he was controlling what happened by walking away. How dare he! She stalked down the corridor, fuming. No matter what she had or had not done, he was being childish by stalking off like that.

Why was she even doing this to herself? Anybody else would have put the brakes on before now. Maybe that was why Hunter had problems with relationships before, she thought viciously. Maybe the whole thing about being chased for his money was an excuse.

Okay, that was probably a bit true. Still, Hunter was acting like a rich spoiled brat. He didn't get his way so he just ran off. Maybe he just couldn't stand a woman who wouldn't do his bidding at a moment's notice.

The doorman spotted her and scurried to open the door.

“Excuse me, Mademoiselle,” he said, speaking slowly in French. “The gentleman wanted to let you know that you may take the car back alone.”

Amber had to struggle to follow his words but she got the point. Ironically, her French appeared to be progressing much better than her relationship with Hunter at the moment.

She thanked the doorman and found a safe place to cross. Traffic was thicker now. She  would have been insane to try crossing in the middle of the street as she had before.

Amber could see the driver dozing in the front of the car. She tapped on the window and he jumped up in the seat, his eyes wild. Amber forced a smile as he rolled down the window. It wasn't the poor driver's fault that Hunter was being a jerk.

“Are you ready to leave, Mademoiselle?”

“No, thank you. But I'm planning on doing some shopping for the next hour or so. If you have another client, feel free to leave.”

The driver looked dismayed.

“Have I insulted you, Mademoiselle?”

Amber shook her head emphatically and decided to be honest.

“I . . . um . . . I just had an argument with Mr. Webb. I'd rather take a walk and work off some of my anger.”

“Ah!” the driver said knowingly. “A lover's tiff. I am so sorry to hear of this, Mademoiselle. But please let me take you in the car.”

“That really isn't necessary,” Amber said, sighing.

The driver looked distressed. “But, Mademoiselle, I truly believe if I don't deliver you safe and sound, that this will be my very last time driving this car.”

Oh, for goodness sake! Amber thought in frustration. Now I can't even get home on my own volition because Hunter the control freak is going to fire this poor man. She almost told the driver that she was terribly sorry. But she couldn't be that cruel. The man was literally wringing his hands.

“Fine,” she said, giving up. She didn't need to feel guilty about this as well.

The driver's apparent relief was so visible that she was glad to not let her own pride stand in the way. After all, hadn't she simply wanted to let Hunter know that she could get home on her own? Shove it in his face that his fancy car was just a luxury rather than a necessity. Make him see how rich and spoiled he was?

As she passed the crowded subway, though, she bit her lip. She realized how glad she was she had not had to try to take it back to the hotel. Yes, she had taken it with Hunter before. But the confusing signs, crowds, and unfamiliar language had been tolerable only because she felt safe with Hunter.

She shoved that thought away. She wanted to remain angry with him. Strangely, though, she felt empty as her anger evaporated. All that was left was a vague sense of helplessness. She stared out the window at the passing shops, galleries, and cafes.

What would happen if she and Hunter broke up? Was that where this was going? Is that what she wanted? She loved him. But she honestly didn't know if she could continue to live with him.

As they turned down one street, Amber saw a little studio advertising lessons in the art of stained glass. She quickly spoke to the driver and explained that she wanted him to stop. Just before she got out of the car, he pointed at her hair.

“The hair is very beautiful, Mademoiselle,” he said, as though embarrassed, “but I wanted to remind you in case you had forgotten that you were still in disguise.”

“Oh!” Amber said, pulling off the wig and tearing off the glasses.

She must have been really out of it not to have noticed they were still on. She looked around and realized that she must have left the briefcase somewhere at work. Sighing, she settled for leaving the wig and glasses on the seat next to her.

She pulled out her compact mirror to inspect her hair. Thankfully, her hair was still relatively neat in the low chignon that had kept it hidden beneath the wig.

“I won't be long,” she told the driver. “It might be easier to circle around than to find a spot close by.”

“No problem, Mademoiselle,” he said. “I'll swing around once. If you are not ready by then, I'll try to find a spot. But take your time.”

Amber waved him away and hurried down the street. The wind was bitterly cold. She couldn't believe that she had planned on trying to find her way back on the subway. That would have been one more reason for Hunter to assume that she never thought before she acted.

A little voice in the back of her mind said that perhaps Hunter was right. But she told that little voice to go to hell. She wasn't going to allow herself to be reasonable right now.

As soon as she opened the wooden door, a pleasant bell rang out. Amber found herself smiling. The front of the studio was filled with lovely finished pieces ranging from the familiar flat pieces used in windows to gorgeous vases and lamps. In the back, a tall gentleman stepped away from a sketchpad.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” he greeted her, wiping his hands on a remarkably clean and tidy apron.

“Bonjour, Monsieur,” Amber responded.

In halting French, while also pointing at the sign outside, she explained that she was interested in taking classes.

The gentlemen smiled at her warmly. He had bushy white eyebrows that matched the unruly thatch of curly white hair on his head.

“It is nice to see an American trying to learn our beautiful language,” he said gently. “But allow me to speak English for you so that we have no mix up about the details of your questions.”

Amber relaxed and grinned. “I promise I'll keep practicing.”

“Excellent, Mademoiselle,” the gentleman replied. “I am Monsieur Renaud and this is my studio and shop. Now, let us speak of the classes.”

Amber wasn't sure how long she stayed in the shop as the master showed her some of his work and the small studio in the back where he held classes. She loved everything about the studio, including the smell of the freshly cut wooden frames and the sawdust on the workshop floor. She felt she could be very happy sitting in the cozy shop while the cold winds blew outside. Just before she left, she grabbed a schedule and information about how much the classes would cost.

Not wanting to keep the driver waiting any longer, she hurried back out and found him double parked across the street. As he drove her back in the direction of the hotel, her stomach growled. She asked the driver to pull over so that she could buy a snack from a small shop. As she munched on her treat, she couldn't help but remember the dark, angry look on Hunter's face as he had stormed off.

Now that the chaos of the morning was behind her, she could think more clearly. For the first time that day, she allowed herself to think of how much stress Hunter must have experienced that day. To be truthful, she hadn't thought much about his needs at all. She tried to imagine having a business and knowing that somebody was trying to steal company secrets.

Okay, so maybe she should have given Hunter a little bit of slack. Yes, he had acted like a control freak. But his control freak nature had probably saved his parents a great amount of grief, not to mention who knows how much money. She still thought he should have been more considerate of her feelings. After all, she had acted with the best intentions. Well, mostly anyway.

By the time she got back to the hotel, Amber was in a weird mood. She was still angry but her anger was mixed between herself and Hunter. Her mind looped in circles. Bloody hell, she was getting a headache from thinking too much. Why couldn't things be like they were in the beginning?

You know why, whispered the tiny voice in the back of her mind. What about the kidnapping? What about today? What would have happened if you walked in at the wrong time or if Kayla or her mother recognized you?

Amber slapped the button on the elevator.
Just shut up! I don't need my own conscience on my case today!