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“With my 401(k), my pension, and my service record,” she replied with obvious boredom. “Shot to hell when I was fired.”
He stared back at her curiously. “I never believed you’d back Father over anything.” He shook his head. “He’s not the man he’s obviously convinced you of, Bailey. We both know that.”
She remained silent. She could understand why he was questioning her. To him, the change he saw in her would be confusing.
“You know he isn’t,” he said,
“None of us are.” She shrugged. “As you said, I was an agent. I’ve been one since I was eighteen, Wagner. In all those years I was never able to put a crime to your father’s name, and trust me, I’ve tried. Perhaps I’m the one who has been wrong all these years. And even if I wasn’t, then it doesn’t matter. I won’t turn on the only family I have left.”
“Maybe there is proof,” he suggested carefully. “Proof that would prove he’s not what he seems to be.”
She narrowed her gaze and watched him carefully. “Be careful, Wagner,” she began.
“Listen, meet me later.” His voice lowered as his hand tightened at her hip. “Give me just a few minutes, Bailey. Let me show you that he doesn’t deserve your loyalty.”
Her lips pressed together as she appeared to consider the request.
“For Anna, Bailey. Do this for Anna,” he whispered.
She breathed out heavily. “Tonight, after the ball,” she told him. “Whatever you have, bring it to the room.”
“Come to mine,” he urged her. “Alone. Vincent can’t be there. He’s too tight with the fathers to suit me. And what one is doing, you can bet the others are involved in.”
And what the hell did that mean? Could Wagner actually have proof that any of them were Warbucks? Or were involved with that traitor?
“I’ll be there.” She nodded. “I can’t promise when.”
“That’s good enough,” he nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
The music drew to an end. Wagner took her hand and led her back to John.
“Thank you for the dance.” He nodded graciously. “Good night.”
Bailey watched him leave as she felt John’s hand move to the center of her back, where his fingertips massaged her spine subtly.
“I have to meet with him later,” she said quietly. “He says he has some kind of evidence against Ford. Something that proves he doesn’t deserve my loyalty.”
“Did he mention what?” John nuzzled her ear slowly, sending a wave of pleasure rushing down her back. She felt like arching like a cat beneath his touch.
“He didn’t say.” She shrugged. “He’ll be waiting on me tonight after the festivities down here are over.”
“We’re getting closer.” His lips were still close to her ear, caressing the shell with sensual strokes.
“Perhaps.” She couldn’t get over the feeling that something wasn’t right, though. Ford was too damned nice, and too determined to keep Wagner and Jules apart. Just as he was too determined to draw John into any and all business discussions.
This was a side of Ford Grace that frankly terrified her. He wasn’t a nice man and she got nervous when he pretended to be.
“We have company arriving,” he told her quietly before straightening and moving his hand to her hip, where he cupped it warmly.
“Bailey.” Grant Waterstone stepped up to them, his haughty features almost effeminate as he stared down his eagle-straight nose at her.
His hair was perfectly styled, his face smooth and classically handsome, and she knew for a fact his hands were baby soft.
“Hello, Grant.” She turned her head for his brief kiss, accepting it on her cheek despite the vague feeling of distaste that chased down her spine.
There was just something about Grant that she had never truly been able to like—something that just never rang true about him. It wasn’t just his drug habits, or his low-class friends. She had always felt he would sell her out in a minute if he ever had the chance.
“You should be careful of Wagner,” he warned her quietly. “We all know how he enjoys his schemes.”
