How to Trap a Tycoon(75)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

Dorsey gazed down at her solitary Barbie lying alone in her career coordinates. Carlotta was right. Despite the little plastic smile, she didn’t look very happy. And a great career and a social conscience weren’t going to be enough keep her warm at night.

"Oh, Carlotta," Dorsey murmured. "What am I going to do?"

* * *

By the time Adam had finished examining Lindy’s collection of information relating to Mack and Lauren Grable-Monroe, Drake’s had been closed for three hours. Lindy sat at the table across from him—where she had been for the last ninety minutes of those three hours—smoking a cigar and nursing her second snifter of Armagnac , lost in a paperback copy of Dr. Zhivago. He’d heard her sniffling and figured she’d gotten to the part where Lara tells the good doctor to take a hike. It had been reassuring to realize that Lindy was capable of feeling something for somebody.

Her investigator had definitely been thorough. He’d all but recorded Mack’s underwear size. Then again, Adam already knew she was size six in panties, size 36B in bras. Happily, he had some information that the investigator didn’t.

Contrary to what he’d told Lindy, Adam didn’t actually read every word of Mack’s notes. He wanted to, and he’d intended to, but the majority of those words were so erudite and academic, so theoretical and analytical, that he had trouble following much of what was written. And he might as well admit it—he’d found the material to be pretty damned boring, too. Leave it to a sociology student to take a nice place like Drake’s and reduce it to a scholarly dissertation.

Then again, that was exactly what Mack had said she planned to do, wasn’t it?

And contrary to what Lindy had said, Adam didn’t see himself figuring all that prominently in the notes. At least, he didn’t think he did. No one had been identified by name, only with labels like Gray Eminence, Apologist, Wannabe, and Sacred Cow. Then there was the one referred to as Pack Leader, which, he had to admit, he liked to think was him. It must be, he decided, because there wasn’t anyone she had termed Hot Stuff.

But if Lindy saw Adam as a major part of this study, then she understood it with far greater insight than he. Because not only could he not see himself threatened by anything that was written there, he sure couldn’t see a sensationalistic, potboiling best-seller emerging out of it, either. A sleep aid, certainly, but not much else.

What had actually piqued his interest most were the documents from Rockcastle Books. Sure enough, it was Dorsey MacGuinness’s signature that appeared on each of them. First on the book contract, whose advance had been impressive but by no means astronomical. Then on the confidentiality agreement, stating that her identity would be closely guarded by the publisher. And most interesting of all, on the payment agreement stating that all funds generated by the sale of the book would be paid not to Dorsey MacGuinness but to her mother.

That, more than anything else, had convinced Adam that Mack wasn’t the soulless, flagrant opportunist that Lindy had assumed her to be. Because even if Mack had done this for the money, it hadn’t been for personal gain. She was doing it for her mother. And hell, what could be more noble than that?

All right, so maybe it was still opportunistic. It wasn’t selfish. And that was in keeping with the Mack that Adam had come to know and love. Because he did love Mack. He’d figured that out tonight if nothing else. In spite of everything he’d found out about her, in spite of the way she’d misled him, in spite of the fact that she had kept so many secrets…

Despite everything, he still cared about her. A lot. And he didn’t want to lose her.

He didn’t kid himself that there were smooth seas ahead. She had a lot to answer for and a lot of explaining to do. And God alone knew what her life was going to be like for the next several weeks if Lindy made good on her threat to out Dorsey MacGuinness as Lauren Grable-Monroe. But whatever pitfalls and potholes he and Mack encountered on the road ahead, he was fully confident they could repair them and move forward.

But that wasn’t his greatest concern at the moment. Because at the moment, Lindy was still convinced that Mack intended to take Drake’s down. And at the moment, Lindy intended to take Mack down first. Adam could try to talk her out of it, but she seemed determined. She had plenty of contacts of her own to spread the word that Lauren Grable-Monroe was really Dorsey MacGuinness, and hey, here’s her address and her phone number, and you can find her at Severn College teaching on these days in these classrooms, and here’s where she catches the El.

As if Lindy sensed his thoughts, she glanced up from her book and met his gaze. "So?" she asked.

"So what?" he stalled.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don’t know, Lindy," he told her. "I honestly do not know."

She puffed a few more times on her cigar, then placed it carefully on a crystal ashtray bearing the Baccarat insignia. "Fine," she said. "You think about it. In the meantime, I know exactly what I’m going to do."

Adam nodded without much enthusiasm as he pushed the materials across the table toward Lindy and wondered what he might say that would possibly talk her out of doing what she’d threatened to do. But all he could think was, Poor Mack. Lauren Grable-Monroe’s days were definitely numbered. And the number he saw most was, unfortunately, one.

Chapter 16

E die Mulholland’s neighborhood was sort of middle everything, Lucas noted, as he sat in his car outside her apartment building, watching the sun dip low in the sky. Middle class, middle America , middle age, middle ground, middle-of-the-road. There wasn’t much to remark about the area except that it was totally unremarkable. And somehow, he got the feeling that Edie lived here for that very reason—it would be easy to fade into the landscape.

A week had passed since she had told him to go away and leave her alone, and Lucas had done his best to abide by her wishes. He’d avoided Drake’s during the hours she normally worked. He had curbed his urge to go hang out on the Severn campus. He hadn’t dialed her number once when he’d picked up the phone. He’d respected her wishes, had left her alone.

And what had he gotten in return?

He’d gotten frustrated. He’d gotten annoyed. He’d gotten irritable. He’d gotten lonely.

There were just too many unanswered questions about Edie Mulholland, and there was one glaring fact about her that he didn’t like at all. She’d been mistreated at some point in her past. Enough to keep her scared and uneasy in her present. Enough to prevent her from seeking a future with anyone who might want to get close to her. Lucas, for whatever reason—and God knew he’d tried to figure out what that reason might be—wanted to get close to her. Close enough to touch her. Close enough to hold her. Close enough to understand her.