Damage Control (Page 37)

Bingo. I dial Shane and he doesn’t answer. I text him: Your father is looking for you. He’s calling a board meeting for Wednesday. He says he needs a Fitzgerald contract.

He replies right away: Jessica has the contract.

Yikes. I text: Sorry. I should have checked with her.

He answers: Never apologize for texting me.

I hesitate, wanting to tell him about the bankers, and he says nothing about the board meeting. I buzz Senior. “I’m going to get the contract from Jessica.”

“Make it fast.”

Standing, I make sure both of my phones are in my waistband. Crossing my work space and then the lobby, I enter the hallway leading to both of the Brandon brothers’ offices. Passing several offices, I reach the fork at the end, to find Derek’s secretary sitting in front of a sealed office. She doesn’t look at me and I don’t look at her. I cut left to bring Jessica’s desk into view, and I walk straight to her.

“I need the Fitzgerald contract. Shane says you have it.”

She offers me an envelope. “Did you talk to him? Because he won’t take my calls and I need to reach him.”

“I, ah…”

She purses her lips. “You did. He has me doing something important. Call him for me.”

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t, not if he’s not taking your calls.”

She makes a sound resembling a growl. “Fine. I’ll handle it.”

I soften my voice. “Senior is having a meeting at four o’clock with a group of bankers. I’m going to leave a copy of the names and documents for the meeting in the copy center for you.”

She gives a negative shake. “They all work for the company. Leave it at security.”

“Got it, and Shane doesn’t know about that meeting. Please don’t tell him on the phone.”

“I am always as discreet as a wife with a sex toy she doesn’t want her husband to find out about.”

I shake my head and actually laugh. “You are a crazy person.”

“Who made you laugh. Glad to see you’re still around. I’ll handle the situation.”

“Thank you.” I turn and start walking toward Derek’s office again when I have a flashback to the other night before I went to Shane’s apartment, and those terrifying moments trying to get into his office, afraid I’d be caught. I turn down the hallway, and my stomach knots. The security guard who didn’t really work here. I can’t believe I haven’t told Shane and Seth. They have so much going on. I should just reconfirm the security guard isn’t real. Maybe the guard I talked to the first time was confused. I return to my desk and consider dialing downstairs, but think better of it. I need to do everything I can in person.

I need food for the meeting and to visit the copy center, also on the lobby level. I’ll stop by security when I’m there. Pulling up my e-mail, I find Brandon Senior’s message, and open it. There are six guests on the list and an attached document. A lightbulb goes off. The document will tell me what this meeting is about. I open it and start scrolling. There’s hedge fund data, profit reports, and data that doesn’t make clear his intent. Do bankers deal with hedge funds? Aren’t they separate? I press my fingers to my temples. I really need to study up on this stuff. I slip a data stick in my computer, load the document, and then buzz Senior.

“Yes, Ms. Stevens?”

“I’m going downstairs to make your copies and order refreshments. Can I bring you anything?”

He hacks several times and then croaks out. “Yourself back to your desk setting up my board meeting.”

“Hot tea with honey coming up,” I say, letting go of the button.

Hurrying forward, I travel the hallway, exiting through the lobby to the elevator. The car arrives quickly and I spend the ride replaying the encounter with the security guard: I’ve just finished with the final documents, gathering all my paperwork, when I hear, “It’s late to be working alone, isn’t it?”

I jolt at the male voice, whirling around to find a dark-haired security guard I’ve never seen before standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” I demand, his big body, and the empty office, hitting all of my many raw nerves.

“I saw the light on and thought something was amiss.”

“Just catching up on my work.”

“I see that,” he says, eyeing the stack of files I’ve created, and with what strikes me as more interest than an outsider should have.

“Thanks for checking on me,” I say, shutting the file I have open and scooping up the entire stack of files. “I’m fine. I’m going to leave soon.”

“I know you think you are,” he says, “but that’s when people make mistakes.”

My throat goes dry with what seems to be a hidden meaning. “Mistakes?”

“They let their guard down and forget to stay alert. Case in point, we’ve had a few strange reports in the building this week, which one wouldn’t expect with our level of security. You said you’re leaving soon. Why don’t you let me walk you downstairs?”

“Oh no,” I say, kicking myself for giving him that opening, and growing more uncomfortable by the moment. “Thank you, but ‘soon’ for me translates to the next hour or so.”

He studies me for several more of those creepy-filled moments in which I contemplate the heel of my shoe as a weapon, before he finally gives a quick nod and says, “Be careful on your way down.” He disappears out of the door, and I have no idea what possesses me, considering he creeps me out, but I dart forward, catching him as he’s about to exit the office.