The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Three (21 page)

“Five more minutes?” she begged.

“Five more minutes,” he agreed.

Across town Joseph was getting ready to leave for his meeting with Darren Hardcastle. His regular cell phone he’d hidden in his breast pocket set to vibrate only, next to it his recording pen, and his burner phone was in his outside pocket ready to whip out when asked for.

“Please be careful,” Lucinda begged. “I know you were a marine and everything, but…”

“This will be over very quickly, but just so you know, I won’t be here to keep you company all day. Once I get back I’ll be leaving to do some shopping of my own,” he said firmly.

“Shoot.”

“You’re the one that’s grounded,” he smiled, shaking his finger. “I’m going to trust you and not lock this door. Don’t disappoint me. You stay put.”

“I will,” she promised.

She watched him stride down the long corridor, then closing the door, headed to the windows that overlooked the street, wanting to watch him walk down the block. The day was overcast and cold, but not raining, though she knew the wet stuff could start any minute.

Darn it. I should have reminded him to pick up a brolly from the stand,
she thought, perching on the arm of the chair that sat near the window.

The spot afforded her a view of the entire block, and as she waited for him appear, she spotted a man in a trench coat across the street. His collar was up, a hat dipped low over his forehead, and he was leaning against a tree reading a newspaper.

As she stared, it struck her that the entire scenario was like a scene from a movie. Her, standing at the window, the hero about to leave the building, and the villain across the street waiting to follow him. She broke into a smile, seeing the page of script in her imagination.

Fade in: Close up on Lucinda at window, concern on her face.

Cut to: Villain-

Her imagery was interrupted by Joseph exiting the front door and turning down the street, and as she sighed, enjoying the sight of his purposeful stride, she noticed the man in the trench coat had folded up his paper and was starting to follow him.

Shit. Is he, or is it just my overactive imagination?

She raced to her bedroom, grabbed her phone and texted him.

MAN MIGHT BE FOLLOWING YOU. BLACK COAT AND HAT. Running back to the living room window she saw Joseph stop, and the man duck behind a tree, erasing any doubt she had. She watched, heart racing, as Joseph reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out his phone, but he put it right back, and she immediately realized he hadn’t read her message.

“Shit, why did you ignore me? You bloody idiot,” she exclaimed.

Checking her phone, she was dismayed to find she didn’t have Simon in her directory. Finding Belle she tapped her name, praying she’d pick up, but Belle was in the shower shampooing her hair, her phone still turned off from the night before; Lucinda’s call went straight to voice mail.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she wailed.

Grabbing her coat she ran down the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. As she bounded through the foyer she saw Henry leaving Simon’s study.

“Henry, do me a favor and have Ian McManus meet me in a car at the end of the block,” she said earnestly.

“Ah, yes, Miss Somers,” he replied slowly. “Are you sure you want Mr. McManus? He is Mr. Sinclair’s security chief.”

“Absolutely positive. Please, Henry, just do it, I’ll take full responsibility,” she said urgently.

“Very well, Miss Somers,” he nodded, raising his eyebrows, “and which end of the block?”

“Oh, sorry, that end, opposite the park,” she replied, waving dramatically as she ran out the door.

“Yes, Miss Somers. I’ll see to it immediately,” and walked back into the study to call Simon.

Racing out the door she stared up the street. There was no-one in sight, Joseph and his shadow had already turned the corner. Praying Belle would call her back and Henry would reach Ian quickly, she started jogging down the street.

Simon was sitting in the back of his car working as Parker drove him to his office, and had almost arrived when his phone chimed. Seeing it was Henry he answered the call, then listened in astonished silence as the butler relayed Belle’s urgent request.

“I don’t have her cell number,” Simon complained.

“I believe I have it, Sir,” Henry calmly replied.

“Of course you do. Where would I be without you, Henry?”

“You’re very kind, Sir. I will text it to you immediately.”

Upon entering The Black Kettle, Joseph had found Darren at the same table they’d previously shared, a pot of tea waiting, and sat down opposite him.

“I’ve got no time for niceties this morning,” Darren quipped. “Just show me the piece of paper.”

“I’m busy too,” Joseph retorted quietly, “and as they say in the biz, show me the money.”

Darren touched a folded up newspaper sitting on the chair between them, and Joseph casually moved it across to his lap, discovered the envelope, and opening it, saw three stacks of bills, a five-thousand pound bank wrapper around each. Running his fingers through the notes it seemed to be complete, and as he placed it in his inside coat pocket, he covertly switched on the pen recorder.

“Satisfied?” Darren asked.

“Yep,” Joseph replied, and retrieving his burner phone, brought up the picture of the pad of paper with the scribbled notes. “Here you go,” he said, “look but don’t touch. I’m deleting as soon as you’re finished writing it all down.”

“You’re a paranoid chap,” Darren remarked, pulling out his notebook, and using the same Mont Blanc pen Joseph had seen the day they’d first met, he copied the notes from the image.

“Don’t you have a town or county name?” Darren frowned.

“I didn’t talk to the man,” Joseph replied tersely, “and it was risky getting this stuff.”

“You’ve been well paid,” Darren reminded him, closing his notebook and putting away his pen.

At the end of the block, Lucinda was peering around the corner, not taking her eyes off the tea shop or the street. The man in the trench coat and hat was nowhere to be seen, and her concern was growing by the second. When her cell jangled she grabbed it urgently, and was thrilled to see it was Simon.

“Thank God,” she declared.

“What the hell is going on, Lucinda?” he asked gruffly, convinced this was just another stunt.

“Joseph was followed,” she replied seriously.

“What do you mean? How do you know?”

“Wait, here’s Ian. Let me get in the car.”

The Jaguar pulled into a no-parking area curbside, and Lucinda jumped in.

“Hang on, Ian. I have Simon on the phone. I’m going to put him on speaker,” she panted. “Are you there, Simon?”

“I’m here. Tell me how you know he was followed.”

“I was watching out my window, waiting for him to leave the house, and I saw this man reading the paper across the street. When Joseph started walking, the man watched him for a minute, then started following him, and when Joseph stopped, he stopped, and ducked behind a tree.”

“What did he look like?”

“Long black trench coat, and a black hat, but the hat was pulled over his forehead so I couldn’t really see his face. By the time I reached the corner they’d both disappeared, but I assume Joseph is in the tea shop and the guy followed him in. I did text him, but he ignored it. Simon, I’m worried.”

“Lucinda, you did exactly the right thing. Good girl. Ian, take her home and then call me.”

“NO! I need to know he’s okay,” Lucinda protested.

“You’ll only be in the way. You’ve done great. I’ll call you the minute we know what’s happening.”

Ian had already turned the car around, and the house was only thirty seconds from where she’d been standing.

“Go in the house and stay there,” Simon insisted. “Promise me.”

“You’ll call me right back?”

“Yes, are you there yet?”

“We’re just pulling up.”

“Go on, please, don’t hold us up.”

“Okay,” she sighed, and jumping from the car, she ran inside.

Joseph had just deleted the photo on his burner phone when he felt his personal phone vibrate against his chest, and assuming it was Lucinda still attempting to reach him he let it go. Darren was rising from the table, extending his hand, and Joseph kept his attention where he thought it belonged; on the matter at hand.

“Good doing business with you. I’d still like to get to know Lucinda better, maybe talk to her about management over here.”

“I’ll mention it to her,” Joseph smiled, reluctantly shaking Darren’s hand. “Whatever it is you’re planning to do with that information, I hope it all works out for you.”

“It will. I don’t roll the dice unless I know I’m going to win,” Darren smirked.

“Must be nice to know they’re always loaded,” Joseph replied,
but you’re about to find out you’re playing against the wrong guy.

“Only way to go,” Darren replied as he walked away, and as Joseph watched him leave, he noticed a man dressed in black jeans and a navy sweater sitting at a table near the door, his black coat and hat draped over the chair next to him.

Joseph felt a strange prickling at the back of his neck, and pulling his cell phone from his breast pocket, he tapped on the first message and stared at the screen.

MAN MIGHT BE FOLLOWING YOU. BLACK COAT AND HAT

Joseph’s heart skipped a beat, and when he went to the second message, he discovered it was from Simon.

YOU WERE FOLLOWED. TEXT ME WHEN YOU’RE THIRTY-SECONDS FROM LEAVING. IAN WILL PULL UP OUTSIDE CAFE IN WHITE JAG. TEXT ME CONFIRMATION.

Joseph took a deep breath. The person following him was the man by the door. Knowing Lucinda was probably freaking out, he texted her first.

THANK YOU. UNDER CONTROL. HOME SOON.

Pulling out the money to pay for the tea, he laid it on the table, then texted Simon.

CONFIRMED. LEAVING IN THIRTY-SECONDS. SHADOW HERE IN CAFE, BLACK PANTS, NAVY SWEATER.

Having kept the car idling at the corner, Ian received the text from Simon that it was time to roll, and began to move the Jag slowly down the street, his eyes peeled. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he stopped outside the cafe just as Joseph walked out. Darting across the sidewalk Joseph jumped into the car, and as Ian drove off, Joseph turned and looked out the back window; the man in the black pants and blue sweater was standing on the footpath watching the car drive away.

“That was bizarre,” Joseph remarked, grabbing his phone to call Simon.

“You okay?” Simon asked immediately upon answering.

“Fine. What do you think it was about?” Joseph asked.

“I have no idea,” Simon replied. “It’s very strange.”

“I don’t think it was Darren,” Joseph remarked. “I mean, why? He knows where I’m staying, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be mugging me for fifteen grand.”

“It’s got me stymied. Just to be on the safe side I think Lucinda and Belle should go down to Chatsworth Hall until this is over. I don’t like this.”

“That mightn’t be a bad idea,” Joseph agreed.

“I can see you at the house for lunch and we can discuss it. I’ll call Belle and have her come over, but outside of that, how did it go?”

Ian had been driving around the neighborhood, constantly checking for a tail, but seeing none he headed back to the mansion.

“Really well. Exactly as planned. I also recorded everything if you’d like to hear it.”

“I would, very much,” Simon replied. “Great work. I must admit, Lucinda was brilliant. Who knows what might have happened if she hadn’t jumped in.”

“You’re right. I almost feel guilty about…you know,” he finished discreetly, wanting to keep his personal business private.

“I understand,” Simon replied. “See you around 12:30. Let Henry know there’ll be four of us in the small dining room.”

“Will do. Thanks, Simon,” he finished, the call ending as the car pulled into the garage. “Ian, thank you. You saved the day.”

“I think Lucinda did that,” Ian remarked. “Smart lady. I’m surprised.”

“I know what you mean,” Joseph nodded. “She’s not as ditzy as she appears, and I’m sure she’s very worried so I’m going to head on up and thank her personally.”

“I don’t know what all this is about, but I’ll be around if you need me,” Ian offered.

“Thanks,” Joseph replied, and climbing from the car headed quickly up to his room, passing Henry in the hallway.

“Everything under control, Sir?”

“It is, thank you, Henry,” Joseph said, pausing to extend his gratitude.

“Glad to hear it,” the butler replied. “I was quite concerned.”

Joseph broke into a large grin.

“You’re good man, Henry. Thank you. Could you send up some morning tea? I could use a cup.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Hurrying to the stairs, he took them two at a time, and when he entered the living room of his suite, he found Lucinda standing at the window. Letting out a squeal of relief and delight, she ran across the room, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Joseph! Thank God, I was so worried. I’ve never been worried like that in my life,” she exclaimed.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he promised, “and I’m so damn proud of you.”

“You are?” she asked, pulling back and staring at him.

“Absolutely. What you did was really brave, and it was smart. You called everyone, you brought Ian to help, you came after me to keep tabs on me but kept your distance, you did everything right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go charging into the tea shop and screw everything up,” she declared.

“You are a walking dichotomy,” he grinned.

“Who was the guy following you?”

“We have no idea, and Simon and Belle are meeting us here for lunch to discuss all this,” he announced.

“I doubt she wants to see me,” Lucinda replied, her voice dropping.

“Perhaps you’ll be able to talk to her privately, get things sorted out.”

“Perhaps, but for now, will you stay here with me?”

“I will. I’ve ordered us up some morning tea, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he smiled.

W
hen Belle wandered into the dining room a few minutes before the appointed time, she found Lucinda and Joseph already there.