“It doesn’t,” I endorse while bouncing my narrowed eyes between the two peering at me from the seats in front of me. “So perhaps you should remember that the next time you decide to leave me out of the loop.” I give them a moment to absorb the threat in my tone before adding, “Show me what you’ve got.”
My hands ball into fists when Hugo and Hunter get into a tussle over who should deliver the news. With my fuse short and my temper volatile, I lean over the privacy partition dividing us before snatching up the file on the top of a stack. It is marked Isabelle Brahn. The one beneath it is for someone by the name of Callie.
While sinking into my seat, I peel open Isabelle’s file, eager to unearth how a ‘supposed’ accountant can learn so much about someone while keeping her own credentials a highly guarded secret.
I groan when a single piece of paper falls out. It’s the driver’s license Hugo mentioned in the elevator. It exposes that Isabelle lived in a small community outside of San Francisco, that her name is indeed Isabelle Brahn, and that her birthday is coming up in a little over six weeks.
“What other information have you got?”
Hugo snatches a file out of Hunter’s hand before locking his eyes with mine. “That’s all we’ve got right now.” When a twinge impinges my jaw, he talks faster, “Stuff like this takes time, Isaac.”
“Her information isn’t hidden for no reason. You only go to those lengths for two reasons. You’re either lying or hiding. There’s no in-between.”
I honestly don’t know which scenario I prefer. I hate being lied to, it fractures relationships long before anything else, but I also can’t stand the idea Isabelle is in fear of her life enough she needs to hide.
“I know that, Isaac. I’m just asking…” Hugo pauses, truly unsure how to phrase his next lot of words before he just straight up blurts them out, “I’m asking you to trust us. To give up the blind faith you gave Izzy within a nanosecond of bumping into her.”
I try to deny his claims. My lips twitch, but not a syllable falls from my mouth.
Loathing that I want to be anything but honest, I roll down the window, then stray my eyes to the foot traffic darting by my building. The busy metropolis I’m building from the ground up has a way of calming me, but I’m not granted the same latitude today. Isabelle is exiting my apartment building. She’s wearing snug jeans, a short-sleeve shirt, and a pair of running shoes.
The relieved expression on her face that she escaped my clutch unscathed switches to panic when she spots my car across the road. A vein in her neck works overtime as her tongue delves out to moisten her lips.
When she hesitantly waves, announcing she’s noticed my watch, I don’t wave back. I signal for Hunter to go before any of the insane thoughts in my head can transpire. I have an abundance of questions I want answered, but a forced truth is a worthless truth, and I’m so used to being lied to, I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll recognize the truth once it’s presented to me.
11
“Why did we receive a double order of Cristal? The hedge fund investor found his fiancé in bed with the gardener. Her bachelorette party was canceled. Were you not informed?” With her eyes locked on the clipboard in her hand, Tina saunters into my office. “There’s a wedding at one of your hotels next month, but I’m unsure if their budget can stretch far enough to offer champagne to their guests. Do you want me to send the Cristal back to the distributors?”
Her tit-bouncing strut freezes partway into my office when Hugo answers her questions on my behalf. “Craig canceled Sophia’s party on short notice, meaning we either accepted the stock as invoiced or be charged a restocking fee. I agreed to take the stock on Isaac’s behalf, but it was supposed to be shipped to the hotel. The corkage fee alone guarantees the clientele won’t bat an eye at paying two-hundred dollars for a bottle of champagne.”
After winking at the annoyance crossing Tina’s face, loving that his unexpected arrival foiled her endeavor to get me alone, Hugo sidesteps Tina, slumps into the chair across from mine, then hooks his ankle onto his opposite knee. “Any other questions?”
“No,” Tina replies with a huff. “That answered everything.” She strays her hopeful eyes to mine for the quickest second before she pivots on her heels and leaves. Even pissed, her hips still swing with every step she takes. Although Hugo has no trouble attracting bed companions, I can confidently declare Tina’s strut is solely for me. With me removing Hugo from Isabelle’s tail a little over two weeks ago, Hugo is once again the head of operations for my empire. That makes him Tina’s boss. If I were to believe a single thing Tina said when we fooled around, only I have tempted her to cross the boundaries between employers and staff.
Hugo waits for my office door to close with Tina on the other side before he swings his amused eyes to me. “She doesn’t give up, does she?”
I answer him with an exorbitant huff before returning my focus to the mountain of paperwork on my desk. The nightclub I purchased last month was in worse trouble than perceived. It came with a heap of debt the owner kept on the down-low and a building that’s almost in disrepair. When the stack of papers between us doesn’t give Hugo the hint to leave, I add words into the mix. “Was there something you needed?”
My tone is curt, but he takes it in stride. It’s rarely left brusque the past two weeks.
“I was hoping we could have a word…in private.”
I drop my pen on my desk before leaning back into my large leather chair. “Roger scanned my office for bugs this morning.” With my trust at an all-time low, I’ve spent more time the past couple of weeks updating the already impenetrable security system protecting my empire than attending to personal matters. It hasn’t been all bad. With my mind occupied on business aspirations, it’s only had the chance to stray to Isabelle a handful of times each day instead of over a dozen. “You can talk freely here.”
“All right.” After dumping a manila folder onto my desk, Hugo moves to the two-way mirror at the back of my office to lower the privacy blind. Once he has it in place, he nudges his head to the folder I haven’t taken my eyes off. It’s the file Hunter compiled on Isabelle at my request months ago. Itno longer sits flat with only one page inside. It’s brimming with documents.
I drag it to my side of the desk, but don’t open it. I value my integrity, but I’ve barely given it the chance to shine since Isabellecrashed into me. I invaded her privacy to ensure she was seated next to me during our flight, put a tail on her within hours of her failing to arrive for our ‘date,’ then stormed out in a huff when she called me out for being the exact man I swore I’d never emulate. Does the knowledge make my anger any less potent? Not at all, but I prefer admitting to my mistakes than sweeping them under the rug.
“Have you read the information inside?”
Hugo’s stance exposes his years of military service. His shoulders are rolled back, his feet are planted to the width of his shoulders, and his hands are intertwined behind his back. “Yes.”
“And?”
He tries to weaken the shock on his face that I’m seeking information from him instead of sourcing it for myself. His efforts are woeful. His tone could only be higher if he sucked on helium. “There are matters of interest I believe you need to be aware of.”
“Anything that will affect my brother, his soon-to-be family, or my employees?”
