Climax by Holly Hart

Author:Holly Hart [Hart, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Red Cape Romance
Published: 2017-06-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Charlie

Tim, my bodyguard and driver of several years, taps his ear.

“He’s here, boss.”

“Send him in.”

We’re standing in the kitchen area of Thorne Enterprises’ HQ. Tim emptied out every last chef, leaving it strangely quiet – except for the bubbling over the sound of a forgotten saucepan of pasta.

It’s a strange place to meet – but it works perfectly.

This is the kind of meeting I don’t want on the record. I don’t want my guest caught on any CCTV cameras on the way in. I don’t want him signing for an entrance badge, nor do I want the prospect of a receptionist remembering him later on.

No, this way is better.

I hear footsteps from the corner, then watch as two burly men in ill-fitting suits – weapons strapped to their hips – lead a third man. He’s short, perhaps five foot seven, with scruffy black hair, tanned skin, and a salt-and-pepper beard.

“I’ll take it from here, boys,” Tim mutters. He holds his palm up, indicating for my guest to stop. The man does as he’s told, grimacing and holding his arms out, ready to be searched. Tim does the honors.

“He’s clean, boss,” Tim says as he finishes patting the scruffy-haired man down. “Want me to stay and –”

I shake my head. “Leave us, Tim. My guest and I will be fine, won’t we?”

Tim bites his lip before he says something he shouldn’t. I watch as his muscles twitch – his body fighting with the natural urge to disagree – before he acquiesces. He nods and departs.

“So,” I say. My voice sounds strangely quiet in the empty industrial kitchen.

My guest says nothing.

“You have a name?”

The mysterious guest holds his tongue long enough for me to wonder whether there was any point bringing him here at all. Finally, he breaks his silence.

“Jason.”

“Is that your real name?”

No answer.

I don’t suppose I’ll get a surname, and I don’t particularly care to ask. One of the more disagreeable aspects, of running a multibillion dollar corporation, are moments like this.

“You know why you’re here, Jason?”

No movement.

“I’ll do the talking, then,” I smile. “I understand Harper hired you to follow a young lady.”

“Your wife,” Jason finally grunts. He says the words without judgment – with almost complete disinterest. I guess if you’re a PI, or a corporate spy; meetings like this quickly become old news.

I incline my head in agreement: “My wife.”

Jason shrugs.

The cloth of his nondescript navy blue canvas jacket tugs against his body as he does so – revealing that despite his slight height, he has a more than muscular frame. The man radiates danger. I’m not surprised Tim didn’t want to leave me alone with him.

“Tell me what you found,” I say.

Jason doesn’t hesitate this time. “She’s got a father, late fifties, in the hospital. She was homeless for a bit. I spoke to a few people who knew her on the street –”

I feel like I might stumble at any moment. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and my forehead knits together. The idea that Penny – my Penny – could once have lived on the streets is shocking.

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