Revenge: A Bad Boy Romance (22 page)

“We screen all new employees, Denton,” James said calmly. “And something about her didn’t sit right. Her résumé came directly to me for one thing, even though my email address wasn’t on the job listing.”

“Perhaps she phoned and asked who to send it to. She’s organized like that. She didn’t just pluck your email out of thin air.”

“No, I’m sure she didn’t. Someone told her. But that’s not the problem. Like I said, I got suspicious, so a few of my team started following her around. They’re subtle so she wouldn’t have noticed.”

“You’d be surprised what she notices,” I said. “She’s brighter than the average assistant.”

“That’s because she’s not an assistant.”

“I can assure you she is. It says so at the bottom of her emails and everything.”

“Christ, Denton, be serious for once, would you?”

“You haven’t given me anything to be serious about yet.”

“Denton, she’s been lying to you. Right from the very beginning. Her name’s not even Chloe Tamworth, although I don’t know what it is.”

“How convenient. Anything else? You going to tell me she’s not a natural blonde as well, because I already know that. Carpet doesn’t match the drapes, if you get my meaning.”

“You’re sleeping with her?” James asked.

“Of course I’m sleeping with her. You’ve seen her. How could I not be?”  

That’s the sort of answer I would usually give. Lighthearted, casual, like it was just sex. That’s all it was. So far.

“You need to end it,” James said urgently. He sounded panicked now, scared even.  

“No way. Now, if there’s nothing else…”

“Chloe’s an FBI agent, Denton. She’s been working undercover spying on you this entire time.  

I laughed. Then I stopped. Then I laughed again.  

There weren’t many other possible reactions when someone tells you that Chloe was an FBI agent. I couldn’t think of anyone less capable of being undercover agent. Perhaps ‘capable’ wasn’t the right word. Chloe had proved herself to be intelligent, and I wouldn’t put anything past her, but there was still no way she was working for the FBI.

Impossible.

“You need to take this seriously,” James insisted.  

“Yeah, sure James, I’ll take it seriously.”  

Then I saw something that I did take very seriously indeed. My phone flashed up with an email from a contact I had placed in charge of watching Roddy.  

We should close out this deal tonight, or the other party’s going to walk. They’re a tough negotiator, but we can definitely do a deal if we move soon.

Shit. Shit, I needed more time.  

“James, I have to go. Something urgent has just come up.”  

“Think about what I said, Denton,” James warned as I hung up the phone.

We should close out this deal tonight, or the other party’s going to walk
meant that Roddy was leaving town soon and I had to act now.  

They’re a tough negotiator, but we can definitely do a deal if we move soon
meant Roddy’s team was armed, but we could still take them.  

So much for a nice dinner with Chloe.

I had to take care of Roddy. Chloe would hate me, but I could win her back round. This was more important. I couldn’t let Roddy escape. Not after what he had done to Kara.

I pulled out my keys and unlocked the top drawer of my desk.  

I hated guns, but they served a purpose. I slipped it under my jacket and left the office.  

The next time I saw Chloe, Roddy would be dead and we could start fresh with no baggage.  

I smiled one final time, before getting serious. FBI agent? What had James been smoking?

Apparently an upskirt picture of me in my damp panties wasn’t enough to get Denton to come to dinner on time. I should be mad, but the overriding emotion was desire. The longer he made me wait, the more I’d want to jump him the second he walked through the door.  

That was probably the entire point. I bet there wasn’t even an urgent conference call he had to lead. He probably just wanted to tease me and make sure I was slick with wetness when he finally came over.

I’d only given him one job, and that was to buy the wine. Guess I had to do that myself now. The food still needed another thirty minutes in the oven. That was more than enough time to pop over to the liquor store across the road and grab a bottle of red. It would be a lot cheaper than whatever Denton would have purchased, but I was used to cheap wine, and it was his own fault for bailing on me.

I ran outside, quickly crossed the road and purchased a bottle of red wine. It barely took five minutes. As I crossed the street on the way back, I noticed a familiar face.  

It was her; the woman I saw outside the office a week or so ago. Why on Earth would she be outside my apartment? I’d assumed she was following Denton, but there was no way she could know he was coming here tonight.  

Lois might have put a handler on me to make sure I didn’t get too close to Denton, but if this woman was an FBI agent she needed a lot more training on how to tail someone effectively and without them noticing. She was also too pretty to be undercover tailing someone. Every man who walked past gave her a second glance, and then a third.

For the time being at least, I was an FBI agent, and that meant I should have the confidence to approach someone who appeared to be following me.  

She looked away as I approached the entrance to my building, but I went straight past the door and walked up next to her.

“Excuse me,” I said politely. “This probably sounds a little odd, but I could swear I know you from somewhere. Did you go to school at St. Thomas in New York?” I had no idea if there even was a St. Thomas school in New York, but that wasn’t the point.  

“No,” she replied, and suddenly looked like she would rather be anywhere else but here with me. She tried to move away, but I kept alongside her.  

“Are you sure? What’s your name?”

She paused before answering. “Ashlee Williams,” she said uncertainly, as if it were the first time she’d ever said it. It probably was.

“I’m Chloe Tamworth,” I said. I wanted to see if she recognized that name. If she did, I would know she had been sent by Lois, because not many people knew me by the name Tamworth.  

I got a reaction from her, but it wasn’t the one I was expecting.

“You’re Chloe
Tamworth
?” she asked. “
Tamworth?
”

“Yes, why?”

“Nevermind. I, uh, I need to be going. Nice speaking to you.”  

She pushed past me and half walked, half jogged down the street, checking over her shoulder to make sure that I wasn’t following her.

That was weird to say that least.

I headed back upstairs and poured myself a glass of wine, even though according to Denton’s message he wouldn’t be here for another hour at least. I needed something to calm my nerves. That confrontation had left me more on edge than I cared to admit.

My cell phone--the real one--rang from my bedroom. That likely meant it was either Lois or my mom. I wasn’t sure which was worse, but when I saw it was Mom calling I relaxed slightly, so she must have been the lesser of two evils right now.

“Oh wow, you answered your phone,” Mom said before I could even greet here.

“Hi Mom. I’m actually kind of busy right now. I’m cooking dinner.”

“By cooking, do you mean microwaving?”

“No, I’m using the oven and gas stove and everything. I don’t want to get distracted and burn the food.”

“What are you making?”  

I read the name of the recipe from the website directions that I was following religiously. “Fresh pasta with a pesto sauce, and bruschetta.”  

“That’s fancy,” Mom remarked. “What’s his name?”

“Whose name?”

“The man you’re cooking dinner for. I don’t believe for one second that you’re doing all this for yourself. I assume you have a date tonight.”

“He’s just a friend, Mom.”

“If you say so dear. I’ll let you get on with it. I only called to see how you were getting on, but it sounds like things are going well.”

Mom was just about to hang up when I called her name. There was something I wanted to talk to her about.

“Can I ask you a question?”  

“If this is about what underwear you should wear tonight then I’m probably not the best person to ask. It’s been awhile since I’ve needed to--”

“No, Mom, it’s not that.” Although I was starting to doubt the power of my pretty pink panties, now that Denton had been able to easily resist the photos I sent him earlier. “I had a question about Dad.”

“Okay,” Mom replied, more softly this time. She always did her best to answer my questions, but it was never easy.  

“When he needed the kidney transplant, Grandma and Grandad both wanted to be donors, didn’t they? I mean, they went through all the tests and everything.”

“Yeah, of course. They would have both done anything to save him. You always do for your kids.”

“But they weren’t a match?”

This time Mom paused before answering. “No.”

“That’s odd, isn’t it? Parents are usually a match for their kids.”

“I think so, yes, but…” She trailed off as if she’d lost her train of thought.

“But... “  

“I don’t want you to think ill of your grandmother, but, well I’ve always wondered whether perhaps your grandfather wasn’t really your dad’s father. That would explain why he wasn’t a match. Plus, it’s not as if they looked much alike.”

That was true enough. Dad didn’t look anything like his father, but not all kids did look like their parents. You couldn’t read too much into it.

“Grandma always did seem the free-spirited type,” I admitted.  

“That’s one way of putting it.”  

Mom hadn’t had the strongest relationship with her mother-in-law while she’d been alive, but they’d always been civil to each other while she was alive.  

“That wouldn’t explain why Grandma wasn’t a match for Dad,” I said. “I doubt she faked giving birth.”  

“No, I suppose not. I don’t know. I don’t think it’s worth worrying about now, dear. They both did the tests, and I was there when the doctor said they didn’t match. They would have done all they could to save your father. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Mom. I’d better get back to this meal.”

“Good luck, darling. Be safe.”

“I think I can cook a meal without injuring myself.”

“I was referring to what happens after the meal.”

I couldn’t see her, but I’m pretty sure she winked as she said it.  

“Night, Mom.”  

Before I put the phone down, I checked my emails to see if Denton had been in touch. He hadn’t emailed my personal account--personal, as in, heavily monitored by the FBI--but we often used the work account to communicate. A few staff in the IT department might know we were sleeping together, but that was better than having all my messages read by Lois.

Denton hadn’t emailed me, but as his PA, I had access to all of his emails as well.  

Just before delaying dinner, he’d received a cryptic email flagged as urgent. You didn’t have to be an FBI agent to work out the code.

I knew why Denton was late for dinner.  

I was going to kill him. That is, if Roddy hadn’t got there first.