Taking Flight (A Devereux Novel) (18 page)

A man approached the table
from behind Derek, and her mood soured completely and utterly. She almost spat
out the rest of the wonderful champagne in her mouth, but held on.

What the hell is that asshole doing here?

Derek had just been about to
say something, but stopped short at her expression. He turned to look at the
target of her disgust.

“That little fucking prick…”
Derek said. “How dare he waltz up here like he has any right to pollute the air
we breathe?”

It was her editor, Ron. His
greasy hair swept to the side, and he had attempted some formality to suit the
atmosphere, donning an ill-fitting brown suit that did nothing flattering for
his figure. With an easy amble he strolled up to their table.

“What the hell are you doing
here?” Derek said, his voice low and thunderous. Sara recognized it—it
was the same tone of voice he’d used on the bouncer at the club who’d prevented
Sara and Becky from entering.

“Oh, don’t be like that,
Devereux,” Ron said. “It’s my job, you know, so while you can get your panties
all in a bunch, it’s just people doing what they have to do. If you didn’t get
so upset over it, then maybe you wouldn’t be such an enticing target.”

“What do you want?” Derek
said
,
the words pulled one at a time from behind
gritted teeth.

“I saw you two here, and I
wanted to come and see how the happy couple is doing.” Ron looked pointedly at
Sara, “It brings me such joy to see the two of you together.”

Derek looked at Sara,
eyebrows raised.

“He’s my new editor,” she
said. There were a million other things she wanted to say at that moment to
each of them, but she held her tongue. It would be best if they stopped talking
to each other. It didn’t look like Derek was eager to continue the
conversation.

“You’ve seen how we’re
doing, scumbag, now get out of here before I get you thrown out. I don’t care
if you’re Sara’s boss. I won’t ever forgive you for what you’ve done.”

It was fascinating. Sara had
no idea the two of them knew each other, and suddenly Ron’s obsession with
digging up dirt on Derek made a lot more sense. She bet he’d tried to get into
the billionaire’s professional and personal life and utterly failed. With an
actual investigative journalist at his disposal, he’d turned her against Derek.

Ron ignored Derek’s threat
and turned to Sara. “Do you have your latest assignment all ready to go? I
expected it a couple days ago, you know, so I flew down to see what the hold-up
was in person. Imagine my surprise when I get the latest scoop from all my old
buddies in the press here that you two have been spending some
intimate
time together. Something tells
me this report will be even better than I had anticipated, and it better be.”

Sara grimaced. She couldn’t
believe Ron was asking her for the report on Derek while she was out at dinner
with the man himself. His audacity was unbelievable.

“Can’t we discuss this
later? We’re in the middle of something.”

“I see that,” Ron said, his
eyes picking out the rose that sat on the table in front of Sara. She struggled
to keep herself from tugging it out of his sight. “I’ll leave as soon as you
guarantee me your report is done.”

Derek slammed his hand on
the table. The place settings jumped and clinked together, and the candle in
the center of the table teetered precariously. “For fuck’s sake, scumbag, get
the hell out of here.”

The display of force made
Ron jump back in a manner reminiscent of a rat scurrying for cover. Once he saw
he wasn’t about to get hit, he bounced back as if he hadn’t been ready to duck
and run.

“You think you’re all that,
Devereux,” Ron sneered. “Big shot rich kid who gets to drive around in his
pretty toys, acquiring models and actresses like they’re collectibles. I bet
you think you deserve all the attention that gets heaped on you every day,
don’t you? You must love it, the flash of cameras everywhere you go. You are
just an entitled brat who lucked out in life, that’s all.”

There was a screech as
Derek’s chair slid backward and almost tipped over with the force and speed of
him standing up. The height difference between him and Ron was immediate and
obvious. He had at least half a foot on the editor, not to mention a much more
imposing mass of muscle. “Get. Out.” He said the words with exaggerated care.
“Now. I won’t warn you again.”

Ron’s face paled, but he
didn’t back down. He puffed up his chest and took a step closer to the table.
“I won’t crawl away and do whatever you say, Devereux. You don’t scare me. And
you think Sara is here because she likes you? The only reason she came to L.A.
was because I told her to come down and investigate you and your family.”

“Ron!” Sara’s shout escaped
before she could stop it.

Derek looked at her, his
mouth dropping slightly as the smaller man’s words sank in. “You… is he telling
the truth?”

“Derek…” she hesitated.
“It’s complicated.” The look on his face broke her heart, but she couldn’t
bring herself to lie to him anymore. There was no way to explain properly in
the middle of the restaurant. “I didn’t even want to do it, but then it became
a lot more interesting than I thought it would.
You
were a lot more interesting than I thought you would be.”

He shook his head and
thumped back down into his chair. “I can’t believe this.” The animosity from
moments before disappeared, and he looked back and forth between her and Ron
with a blank stare. “You were after me the entire time?”

Ron hooted. “The entire
time, Devereux! You were taken like a fool!”

“Shut up, Ron!” Sara yelled.
She seethed inside, her pulse rising as she got to her feet. “Derek, look, I
kept the secret as long as I did because there hasn’t been time since things
got more serious between us to tell you. I decided this morning not to publish
the story—I wouldn’t do that to you.”

It was Ron’s turn to stare
at her. “You what? That’s not your decision to make, Flight! That article
belongs to me, and I’m going to get it!” He took a step toward her and reached
for her arm.

It stopped cold before it
reached her and Ron yelped. Derek had moved with a flash, intercepting the
editor’s hand and shoving him roughly backward. “Do not lay your hands on Sara
if you value your limbs and want to keep them.”

“Thank you, Derek,” Sara
said. She risked laying a hand on his shoulder and spoke to him in a calm voice.
“I’m not lying to you, you have to see that. Especially since all the other
stuff happened, with the attack and Gary, all I’ve wanted to do is help you
figure out who’s behind everything.”

He stared into her eyes, his
dark orbs flicking from side to side, as though her eyes were windows into her
soul and he searched for something inside of her. She stared back at him,
trying to make her sincerity plain on her face.

“I don’t know if I can trust
you right now,” he said. “It’s all too much, way too quickly. You make it all
sound so damn reasonable, but then I think about how you’re working for this
viper, and it all comes apart.”

Ron was suspiciously quiet.
His eyes darted back and forth between the man and the woman, head cocked to
the side.

I can’t believe I mentioned the attacks in front of Ron!
She’d gifted her editor with
new information he had no right to.

“Derek, trust me.” Sara’s
voice wavered and nearly cracked. Her eyes welled with unspent tears. “I want
to help you. Let me use everything I have to protect you and your family.”

He bit his lip, making the
muscles in his cheek jump. “I can’t, yet, Sara. I need time to think things
over. Please go. I need to be alone for a while.”

Her hand tightened
convulsively where it rested on his shoulder. “Can I come and see you tomorrow
after your race? I’ll explain everything then. I’ll give you everything I’ve
found so far on you and the company, and…” She glanced at Ron, leaning in to
catch all of her words. “…
any
leads that might solve
the current problems.”

Derek nodded. “Come and see
me after the race, and we’ll talk. I can’t promise anything, Sara. This breach
of trust is more than I can bear right now. Both of you need to go. Now.”

Sara watched him as he
walked away from the table, somewhere to the back of the restaurant. She wanted
to chase after him, but it would do more harm than good. At least he’d agreed
to meet her tomorrow—she’d have to convince him then.

“That was brilliant,” Ron
said, his face wreathed in a massive grin. “That asshole has had that coming
for a long time. And it sounds like you’ve been hard at work, Flight. What is
the attack you mentioned?”

“Shut up, Ron.” Sara put her
head down and marched past him toward the exit. The tears that had sprung up
earlier threatened to spill over her cheeks, and she didn’t want to turn into a
fountain in front of her loathsome boss.

“Flight!” He motored his
legs to keep up with her. “Don’t you dare walk away from me like
that.
You have my story, and a damn good one, too. I don’t
care what you told Devereux just now, the world deserves to know the truth, and
it sounds like it’s even juicier than I thought. You owe nothing to that
pretentious pretty boy. Send it to me now, and we can catch the next flight
back to Chicago.”

She ignored him and walked faster,
glad for once that all her heels had been destroyed in the attack on the
apartment. She only had the pair of flats she’d worn then. Becky had taken that
one restriction into consideration when designing the dress.

“Hey, what are you
thinking?” Ron asked. “Stop this second, Flight, or else you’re fired!”

The threat on her career,
the thing she loved doing, was what had gotten her into this mess. If it hadn’t
been for Ron’s sleazy motives, she would have still been in Chicago, moping
around her apartment, and miles away from Derek Devereux. She slowed, and came
to a stop, her breathing heavy both from exertion and the overwhelming emotions
rocking her.

“You’ll fire me if you don’t
get this story, Ron?” she asked. “Well, do that then, because there’s no chance
I’ll betray Derek’s trust and tell you anything about him. If you want dirt on
the Devereux family, then do the legwork yourself, asshole.”

It was empowering to tell
Ron what she thought. He was a degenerate who cared about one thing, and he
never should have been entrusted with the editor-in-chief position at the
newspaper. The directors had panicked and brought in a snake to take over the
job when what they really needed was someone dependable and who could run
things responsibly.

The greasy man walked up to
her and got in her face. His eyes were on level with her own, the whites
flecked with red from burst blood vessels—a symptom of too much smoking
and drinking, and not enough exercise and proper nutrition. “Asshole? That’s
the business, honey. You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to get a
rise out of me. I’ll tell you what, though. You are done at the paper. And I
will do everything I can to make sure you never work for another one ever
again. You are a washed up hack, a has-been. You had a couple good pieces a few
years ago, but you’re a disgrace to journalists everywhere now.”

It felt like someone grabbed
a hold of her heart and squeezed. An hour ago she had been on top of the world.
Sure, not everything had been perfect—there was someone out there after
her life, after all—but she had Derek, and she had her career, and those
had become the most important things in her life. In the space of twenty
minutes, it had all fallen apart, and all because of the short man standing in
front of her.

She didn’t even think, just
reacted. Sara’s hand whipped out from her side and smacked Ron right across the
face. The impact was so forceful that the shock wave traveled up her arm and
shook her whole body.

Ron’s body reeled to the
side, and he staggered under the blow.

“You bitch!” he cried, hands
clutching his face. “How dare you?”

She didn’t stick around to
find out what he had to say about her attack, but instead—grateful once
more for the flats she wore and the well-designed dress that allowed her full
and easy movement—took off at a run through the front doors of the
restaurant and out onto the street.

The sun had set, and the
street was a confusing mixture of dark and light from the streetlights and
headlights of the cars. She didn’t want to stick around and deal with the
aftermath of slapping Ron, so she hung a left and sprinted down the sidewalk,
taking the first opportunity to duck off into a side street and push her back
against a building.

Sara’s whole body shook, as
everything caught up to her at once. Her life had been such an amazing place to
be just an hour ago. Even the attacker on the loose hadn’t really bothered
her—it was a mystery to solve, her
favorite
thing in the world. Now she wasn’t even sure where she would spend the night
since she was certain she wouldn’t be welcome back at Derek’s house.

Tear tracks wetted her
cheeks, the dampness glistening on her fingers as she took a moment to wipe it
off and try to compose
herself
. Sara looked up and
tried to gain her bearings in the night.