Текст книги "The Singles"

Автор книги: Emily Snow

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 45 страниц)

“Someone at the company called and told you that shit?” Oliver demanded, and I moved my head slowly. “Do you know who it was?”

“No. I wish to God I did, but I have no clue. All I know is I couldn’t sleep after that call. I couldn’t think clearly, or do my job, and I had to know if what he said was true.” At his blank expression, I let out a strangled cry. “I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, but it was important to me!”

“I never said it didn’t make sense to me,” he growled against my mouth. “So after that call, you came up with this elaborate hoax?”

“Yes.” Ashamed, I squeezed my eyes closed. Saline stung the back of my eyelids, and I prayed the deluge wouldn’t spill over. “A friend helped me come up with Lizzie and the rest...”

“And did you find anything?” When I didn’t immediately respond, he tilted my face back, and I felt tears trickle from the corners of my eyes. He brushed his thumbs over the dampness. “You came all this way looking for answers. Did you find them?”

“Yes.” My shoulders drooped, and I sagged my body forward, letting him hold me. “We figured out that Margaret and Michael Scott forged my father’s will. My father left everything to me, and they took it all.”

A harsh noise leapt from the back of his throat, and I opened my eyes just as he dropped his hands from my face and staggered back. He dragged his palm over his mouth. “Do you have proof of that?”

“I have the original will and the forgery. I have proof your mother has been doing every shady thing under the sun at that company.” And then, I found myself telling him everything from the beginning, leaving out nothing but Pen’s involvement and our suspicions about his ex-girlfriend.

When I finished, the muscles in his neck were tight as he brought me to him again. “And you haven’t gone to the police? Gemma, this is dangerous stuff.” His heartbeat thudded through his suit jacket, pounding my chest.

“I wanted to make sure I had everything,” I whispered brokenly. “Are you happy now?”

He shook his head, his light brown hair falling into my face. “Hell no. You just told me my mother fucked over a child. How could that ever make me happy?”

I ran what he just said through my head and forced myself to breathe. “You have everything you wanted from me, so what are you going to do now?” I gripped my hands in the black fabric of his jacket. “Are you going to tell Margaret before I get the chance to finish what I started?”

“I’ve felt things for you that no other woman has ever made me feel. I’ve wanted things from you I’ve never wanted from another person. I’m pissed, but don’t think for a second I’m going to turn my back on you and feed you to the wolves.”

“Then, what are—”

Covering my mouth with his, he molded me against him. “I’m going to kiss you,” he said between hot kisses. “I’m going to be selfish and kiss you because it’s the only goddamn thing that makes sense to me right now.”

Dizzy when he drew away, I dragged him back to me. “Touch me,” I said. Because I didn’t know what would happen between us tomorrow or the next day. I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance to feel him like this again.

“Here?” he rasped against my throat, and I nodded.

I shivered as his hands skimmed my hips, arching my back when his fingers found the hem of my dress. Burrowing his face to my neck, he inhaled my scent—the perfume that drove him crazy.

He shoved the blue and white dress up around my mid-section. “I can’t say no to you.”

“Don’t. Just ... touch me.”

He leaned me against the desk and dipped his fingers beneath the lace of my panties. Dragging them down slowly, he stopped a few times to kiss the insides of my thighs and various spots on my legs. On his knees in front of me, he touched his mouth to my hipbones, and I sucked in a harsh gasp.

“Ticklish, Gemma?” he asked, and all I could do was nod.

He’d called me Gemma.

Still holding my breath, I reached out to grasp his hair, but he grabbed my hand. Kissing the inside of my wrist, he ripped my glove off and then did the same with the other hand, stuffing both gloves deep in his pockets.

“Now,” he rasped and parted my legs to tongue my clit. When I whimpered, he lazily finished, “Now you can touch me however you want, beautiful.”

Sifting my fingers through the soft brown locks, I tugged until he came to his feet and took possession of my mouth greedily. Our hands were all over the place, and a few seconds after I heard his zipper open, he picked me up.

“How do you want me?” I whispered.

He rubbed the head of his erection against my pussy and licked the corners of my mouth. “Slowly,” he drawled, and I tightened my legs around his waist.

“Slowly?” I panted.

“You heard me the first time, Gemma.” He eased himself inside me just a fraction before giving me a sexy grin. “Very, very slowly.”

For what seemed like an eternity, he teased me like this, gradually entering my sex—drawing the moment out until it was agonizing. Finally, I let out a frustrated noise and bucked my hips until his cock filled me.

I sighed with pleasure, and he chuckled into the crook of my neck. “I love your impatience. Love the way—”

I brought his lips to mine to silence him.

Then, with the noise of the party that was taking place in the courtyard fading into the background, and the sound of him breathing me in, he kept his word, taking me slowly. And I realized just how hard I had fallen for Oliver Manning.

*

My tryst with Oliver was still in the front of my mind during work the following day, but if I expected my stepmother to mention the dance her son and I had shared in her courtyard, she surprised me by giving me my usual lists of tasks before waving me off.

She’d done a complete one-eighty overnight, and it played with my head almost as much as everything else she was up to.

Focusing on Margaret’s sudden lack of interest as I drove home from work, I was still deep in thought when I entered my apartment building, so I didn’t realize someone was waiting by my door until I nearly ran over him.

“You’re all over the place, Gem,” a familiar male voice teased, and I stared up in relief at Linc Connelly’s out-of-control beard and wide smile. “Pen told you I was coming this weekend, didn’t she?”

“She did, but I didn’t realize you were already here.” Still, I was ecstatic to see him. With Oliver’s promise to keep my identity to himself and Linc being in town, I was hopeful for the first time in days. “You don’t know how relieved I am to see you.”

He leaned his shoulder to the wall. “Apparently my sister isn’t as enthusiastic about me being in Los Angeles. She was supposed to be here when I showed up, but she’s not answering her texts. Good thing I stuck around a few minutes—I’m exhausted.”

Thinking about all the legwork Pen had done for me the last several weeks, I bit the inside of my lip. “She’s been busy,” I explained as I jiggled my key in the lock. “Stop giving her such a hard time.”

“I’ll stop giving her a hard time when she does the same for me.”

Opening the apartment door, I gave Linc a dark look as I motioned him inside. I kicked off my heels and gestured toward the living room. “Make yourself at home. When Pen comes in ... there are a few things we need to talk about.”

I started to leave the foyer, but he grabbed my arm. “Is everything okay?” Before I could say anything, his phone buzzed, and he lifted a finger. “Hold that thought.”

“Five bucks it’s Pen,” I laughed nervously.

A second later, he wiggled the screen close to my face. “Speak of the devil.” Scanning the message quickly, he snorted. “She said she’s doing some work, but she’ll be here shortly.”

“Like I said, Pen’s been busy.”

“Hacking,” he said with a smirk, and I scowled. “Don’t even deny it, Gem, because we both know it’s true. If she doesn’t pull it together soon, she’s going to be stuck in a loop for the rest of her life.”

Jabbing my tongue in my cheek, I prepared to defend my brilliant friend, but the shiver moving down my spine stopped me. “What did you just say to me?” I asked, my voice hushed.

“I said that if she doesn’t pull it together soon, she’s going to be stuck in a loop for the rest of her life,” he repeated, and as I listened to him, I heard a similar statement in the back of my mind.

“Unless you want to be stuck in the loop you’re in for the rest of your life. Your body will only get you so far.”

My mouth dropped open, and red spots pranced in front of my vision.

When they faded, I stared up at the man who’d come into my life, bringing my best friend and a sense of family after I lost mine. I took in the short dark hair and green eyes that belonged to a person who’d been like a brother to me. And when those green eyes widened, and the emotions reflected in them went from surprise to recognition to shame, I knew I was staring at the person who’d encouraged me to turn my life upside down.

Before I realized what I was doing, I heard a sharp echo through the silent apartment as my hand flew across his face.

Chapter 21

Reeling back from my blow, Linc clutched the side of his face, his forehead wrinkled in an angry scowl. Like he should be angry. “What the fuck was that for, Gemma?” he demanded, and my nostrils flared.

“You know exactly what it was for! I know what you did.” Clenching and unclenching my hand to shake out the pain throbbing through it, I took a few steps backward, glowering at Linc until it felt like acid clung to my lashes. He didn’t move an inch. He just stared back at me, his expression crestfallen as he scuffed the soles of his Vans against my foyer floor. “What you just said about Pen is the exact wording you used the night you called me six months ago.”

“Calm down and—”

“Don’t tell me to keep calm! Don’t you dare tell me a damn thing other than what your real reason for calling me was.”

The veins in his neck straining against his skin, he lowered his face, offering me a better view of the bright red handprint on the left side of his cheek. I was glad I put it there. It matched the smack in the face that was dealt to me when I figured out he was the person whose call had started all this.

“You disguised your voice. You tricked me.” Clearing my throat, I added, “And please don’t say it was for my own good. If that were the case, you would have come right to me.”

“I can explain everything,” he said roughly, stalking toward me. He hooked his hand under my arm and pulled me toward the couch, fending off my angry shoves the entire time. “Let me explain!”

Nausea gripped me. Turning away from him, I slammed down, holding my fist to my mouth as he paced the narrow space between where I sat and the coffee table. I counted his steps. Listened to his growls of frustration. But I wasn’t ready to meet his eyes, not yet.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he told me at last.

“How the hell did you want me to figure it out, then? Does Pen know?” I wanted to believe my best friend hadn’t been involved with this, but I’d reached the point where nothing surprised me.

“Of course she doesn’t know!” He let out a flustered curse. “I figured you’d come to me when you found what that woman was hiding. Dammit, Gemma, I thought you’d ask for my help.”

“When you called, did you really think Margaret had screwed me over? Or were you making a wild guess.”

“I knew it was a possibility. But I knew for sure there was something going on at that company. ”

The emptiness in the laugh shoving up from my throat scared me. “Congrats, then. You called one right.” Abruptly, another thought hit me, and I jumped off the couch, planting my feet apart. “That call came from Emerson & Taylor. How the hell did you manage to make that one happen?”

“I had a—” His green eyes plunged to the floor between our feet, and I tapped my bare toes impatiently on the laminate. “I had a source who worked at the company.”

“A source?” I snorted. “And why couldn’t that person get you what you needed? When you weren’t one hundred percent positive any of this pertained to me, why didn’t you use your source to dig for information?”

“When that person couldn’t get things taken care of like I needed, I thought of you.”

I scoured my brain, thinking of everyone I’d met so far who might have helped Linc. When I stared up at him pleadingly, my arms outstretched, he sank down on the ottoman and shielded his eyes with his hand.

“Stella Marchand.”

“Stella?” I wheezed. The woman who’d been my friend. The woman who’d taken me out for drinks, who had met me for lunch numerous times. “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that Oliver Manning is your new partner, right?”

It wouldn’t shock me.

“I can’t go into details about Stella, but I can tell you she didn’t want to hurt you. I take full responsibility for what I did to you, but I knew you and my sister would wiggle your way in and figure out what I kept missing. I really hoped you’d find answers for yourself, Gemma.”

“That’s disgusting,” I hissed. “That you would use Pen and me to do your job.” Biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, I stepped around him and grabbed my phone from my purse.

“What are you doing?”

I turned my back to him, focusing on the green light on my cable box as I waited for Pen to pick up. When she answered on the second ring, her voice cheery, I immediately interrupted. “You should come home.”

“Nothing’s wrong, is there?”

“Your brother is here,” I said, “And he knows everything.”

She sucked in a breath. “God, Gemma! You told him?”

“He knew all along.” I tossed a furious stare over my shoulder at Linc, who was still on my ottoman looking like he was just deceived. “Just get here so you can ask him yourself.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Linc said quietly when I hung up.

“Did you expect me to keep it from her?” Tossing my phone onto the couch, I scrubbed my hands over my face, wishing this were just a nightmare I’d swiftly awaken from. When I dropped my arms to my sides, though, Linc was still there.

And I was still livid.

“What do you need from me?” I asked.

“What?”

I paced from the armchair to the ottoman, letting my head fall back so my eyes faced the ceiling. “You sent me here to dig around in Margaret’s life, so what is it you want to know? I can give you plenty. Do you want to start with how she forged my father’s will? Or how she’s been skimming money from the company and charities for the last fourteen years? Or—”

“I already know all that. I’ve—” He paused and curled his lip guiltily. “There are surveillance microphones in here. I put them in last month.”

Recoiling, I bit the tip of my tongue. I wanted him out of my apartment. And the quickest way to do that would be to get him to come out with exactly what he required from me—how much longer he needed me to be his puppet.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Clearing his throat, he looked me up and down. “I want you to get a confession from Margaret.”

“Is this a confession about what she did to me?”

“No, but it’s a start. We’ll get everything else out of her once we have her in custody.”

“When this is done, we’re through,” I said, starting toward my bedroom. “And get your fucking surveillance microphones out of my house.”

*

When my phone rang an hour later, and I saw it was Oliver, I slipped into my shoes and grabbed my purse. Pen and Linc’s argument had reached the point where I was sure the neighbors were calling our landlord to complain. Not that I planned on stopping her. As hypocritical as it sounded, I couldn’t even bear to hear Linc’s voice at the moment. If he had approached me and asked for help, I would have done anything he wanted in a heartbeat, but the way he went about it made my chest ache.

He’d been like a brother to me. At least, that’s what I let myself believe.

Shutting my apartment door, I answered Oliver’s call and held the phone between my shoulder and ear. “I didn’t expect you to call so soon,” I answered nervously. Jogging down the stairs at the end of the hall, I headed for the lobby. “Are you still there?”

“I was thinking about you, Li—Gemma.” Oliver was momentarily silent before his low growl made me shiver. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I denied, twisting my head to either side to convince myself.

“I’m looking right at you. And you look like you’ve been crying.”

When I whipped my head up, my blond ponytail flew around my face. There he was, crossing the carpeted lobby steadily with a frown on his bronze face. I met him half way, immediately offering an excuse.

“It was a ... family argument. Nothing to worry about,” I said lamely, gasping when he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

He chuckled, and though it might have been somewhat sarcastic, that sound was the best thing I’d heard all day. It brought a touch of warmth to the coldness that had weighed me down for the last hour and a half.

“There are so many places I could take what you just said about family, but none would be appropriate, considering how badly I want you right now.” Sucking in his cheeks, he tilted his head and examined my face. “Come with me.”

Yes, I thought. I’ll go with you anywhere. “Should I change?” When I looked down at my jeans and white V-neck I’d changed into after arguing with Linc, Oliver shook his head.

“We don’t have to get out the car. I just haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I needed to be near you.”

His hand firmly pressed to the small of my back, he escorted me to his Viper, which was parked illegally in front of the building. As we walked, I slid closer to him to fight off the slight chill of the early December night, and the fingers touching my back moved around to grip my hip possessively.

It was a touch that had me wanting more, and I was reluctant when we parted to get into the car.

For the first few minutes of the drive, he was content to focus solely on the road, so I stayed quiet too. With all the thoughts assaulting my mind—Margaret’s impending downfall, Linc’s deception, and the possibility that Oliver’s ex-girlfriend might be my sister—it wasn’t hard to keep my mouth closed. Finally, he broke the calm.

“I’m not sorry for what happened last night.” He skimmed his tongue over his teeth. “If I could do it again, I would’ve spent the rest of the night with my cock buried in you. Your body was made for me ... which given our circumstances, is a problem.”

Problem or not, I felt his hand on my leg, and I pressed my thighs together, trapping his fingers in place. “I’m not sorry either.” He squeezed his hand an inch higher, coming dangerously close to my center, and I sucked in a breath. “But you’re still angry with me—even after last night.”

“I am.”

“But you refuse to go to Margaret,” I whispered. “With all the information you have on me, you refuse to go to your mother.”

“I cared about your father and I care about you.“ Watching me closely, he turned the Viper down a narrow street. “I wish the only thing I wanted from you was what’s right here—” His fingers pumped my sex through my jeans, and moisture flooded my mouth. “—but sadly, it’s not.”

“How do you do it?” I murmured.

“What?”

Turning to the window, my breath fogged up the glass as I stared at the seaside rushing by. “I was angry—furious out of my goddamn mind—and then you came in and touched me, and all I could think about was you. I should still be flying off the handle right now, and all I want are your hands on my body. You make me want things I shouldn’t want.”

You’ve made me fall for you, I added silently.

“Looks like we have the same effect on each other, beautiful.” Several second passed, and he asked gently. “Why were you crying today?”

“Because someone I thought I knew hurt me.” In the window, I saw his reflection, feeling my chest twist at his ironic smirk. “I found out who ... made the call that sent me here.”

“And it was someone you knew?”

“The FBI is on to your mother,” I said, ignoring his question. I heard him shift toward me. “And they want me to help.”

He frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I trust you.” Saying that felt so messed up, but it was the truth. A horribly sad truth that hit me right where it hurt the most. “I trust you, Oliver.”

Focusing his light blue eyes straight ahead, he drove his Viper into one of the Venice Beach private lots and turned off the ignition. “You’ve got a lot of faith in me.”

“You’re the only person in my life besides Pen who hasn’t fucked me over yet.” When his eyebrows came together, I realized he had no idea who Pen was since she’d introduced herself by her middle name, and I hated myself for deceiving him over and over. “She’s my best friend.”

Unsnapping his seatbelt, he faced me, reaching up to tangle his hand in my blond hair. “I’m not going to tell you not to go after my mother.” His mouth inched closer to mind, catching my breath. “If she’s done everything you said, I—”

“She has,” I said firmly.

“Then I’m not going to tell you to back down.” Our noses skimmed. “Get your closure, Gemma.”

“But what about—”

Before I could continue, before I could ask him what would happen to him—to us—he stopped me with his lips. The contact was agonizing, a crashing of mouths that penetrated my mind and my body. I gripped the back of his neck, feeling his muscles tauten beneath my fingertips, and I invited him in.

Invited him to have all of me.

When he pulled away, his hands were still in my hair, and I refused to let go of him. “Get your closure,” he told me once more, his breath heavy, his blue eyes darkening. “Get your closure and take everything that belongs to you.”

But as we sat there mesmerized by each other, the knots twisting in the pit of my stomach told me that closure meant losing him completely.

*

When I walked through the doors at Emerson & Taylor Monday morning, greeting Carl at the security desk and trying not to stare too hard at the photo of Mom in the lobby, I knew my days as Lizzie Connelly were gradually coming to a close. I knew too much now—and the person who’d pushed me into this was also aware of everything. Now, it was only a matter of time.

And I was ready for that day to come.

As I finished up my lunch shortly after noon, a knock on my door interrupted me. I rolled my chair over to answer it, but it opened slowly, and my expression hardened when Stella tiptoed in.

“Can I help you?” I said through a tight smile.

Her shoulders quaked. “I wanted to come by and personally say I’m sorry, Lizzie.”

“I understand.” But of course I didn’t. Since Linc had refused to detail the extent of Stella’s involvement in this giant charade, I was left in the dark. “If you’ll excuse me, I have—”

My office phone rang. Grateful for the intrusion, I plucked it off the hook and held it to my ear. “Emerson & Taylor, Lizzie—”

“Ms. Connelly, I need you in my office right now,” Margaret snapped, hanging up immediately.

“Of course, I’m on my way right now,” I said to the dial tone. Standing up, I straightened the hem of my crewneck sweater. “Sorry, but we’ll have to do this later,” I told Stella, the irritation in my voice faltering.

Even though I didn’t know her exact role in Linc’s plans, I couldn’t be cruel to her. Not when there was a possibility he’d used her too.

“Email me if you want to speak.” She paused at the door, the regret overflowing on her features punching me in the stomach. “I really am sorry.”

I watched her walk away, inhaling and exhaling. Once I gathered my bearings, I marched into Margaret’s office to find her in the process of loading her briefcase, her motions jerky and quick.

Where the hell was she going?

“Clear out my schedule for the rest of the afternoon.” She didn’t look up to acknowledge me. “I had a change of plans and won’t be in the office until much later this evening.”

I wanted to know what changed, but I moved my head up and down. “I’ll do it right now.”

“Good enough.” Holding her briefcase tightly against her body, she flicked her blue eyes up to mine and pinched her lips.  “Feel free to take the rest of the day off.”

“There’s nothing else you need me to do?”

She breezed past me gripping her purse and briefcase tightly. “No, there isn’t. Be here at nine thirty tomorrow, Ms. Connelly.”

*

I worried all the way home over whether or not I’d made a mistake telling Oliver that Margaret was being investigated. Pen wasn’t around when I stepped into my apartment, but she’d left a short note on the refrigerator.

Off doing some work for my boss back in Vegas at the L.A. branch (yeah, I know you’re surprised). I’ll be in late this evening, so let me know if you want me to bring dinner.

Going to my bedroom, I changed out of my office clothes, texting Oliver in the process.

What we talked about last night—that was private, right?

I was shrugging out of my pants and reaching for a pair of PINK sweats when he responded less than a minute later.

Easton is the only person who knows about you, but I would never share our private conversations with him. Is something wrong?

After I told him that everything was fine, he remained silent. For the next hour, I read over some of the files Pen had obtained on Finley Scott, searching for anything that might prove our suspicions right. Every few seconds, I glanced at my phone, hoping Oliver would message.

When a text finally did come through a couple hours later, I felt giddy as I checked it, but my excitement immediately dwindled when Linc’s name showed up on my screen. Apparently, now that he’d revealed himself, he had no issue messaging my Lizzie phone, which automatically set my teeth on edge.

Remember when you said you’d help? I’m ready for you now. Be at this address in an hour.

There was a part of me that wanted to hover my finger over the delete button and get rid of his message, but I needed this to be over. I needed the closure Oliver had suggested I get. A few seconds later Linc texted the address.

Releasing a sigh of defeat, I gathered the Finley paperwork and took it back to my bedroom where I returned it to the nightstand drawer overflowing with information. Then I re-dressed.

*

“Is this your surveillance room,” I asked Linc an hour later when he let me into the hotel room just around the corner from Emerson & Taylor. “I always thought you all did that in a van.”

“We do have a van,” Linc said, none of the emotion he’d displayed at the end of last week present in his voice because some of his colleagues were around. “But for right now, we’re going to brief you here.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Margaret is leaving in a couple days.” This was a surprise to me, but I nodded nonetheless. “She’ll be in her office tonight. It’s time for us to finish this.”

“I’m ready,” I said. “Just tell me how to do this.”