Helen’s entire demeanor changed to disapproving and not directed toward me. “Academic records.” She handed me more sheets. I read the report, but my brain refused to comprehend the gravity of it all.
“Her last semester and she was failing a critical class needed for her degree. Odd because all her other grades had been decent. She could never claim summa cum laude, but she did all right. Yet she never finished, not at that college.”
Yep. I’d gotten to that part. An ocean rushed through my ears, dimming Helen’s explanation.
“Miss Baranski, perhaps thinking one point five wasn’t enough for her to live on, wanted to graduate, so she struck a deal with Dr. Jake Johannsen. They both scored in a way. His wife caught wind and went to the administration. Mara left the school with no degree and Dr. Johannsen got divorced.”
Mara was a home-wrecker.
My hands curled into fists. My comic book shop owner had destroyed another man’s life before going after my father.
How the fuck had she gotten a trust with that amount of money? What had she done for that? Who had she done for that?
The papers shook in my hand. Helen clasped her hands on her lap, her back erect. “We have more investigating, but I thought perhaps this could put that legal nonsense to rest.”
“Yes, Helen. Thank you. You may go. Enjoy your Sunday.” One of us should.
She left me with the incriminating evidence.
I tossed the papers onto the chair next to me and threw my feet on top of the table. Surrounded by glass and all alone, I stretched out and ruminated.
My phone rang.
Jennifer. My mom. I could answer and ask her how a woman could do that to men. But then she’d get ideas. Worse, she’d sniff out another woman trying to get her claws into Sam’s empire. I pitied any future wife of mine—not that I would ever marry.
I rubbed my temples. What had I expected? These reports were exactly the reason I’d hooked up with Mara.
So, what? It made me feel better that Sam had been seduced by Mara and hadn’t preferred a stranger to his own son?
Did I have anything to drink in my office? A day getting shit-faced sounded divine.
My phone rang again. I stared at the ceiling. During the shittiest five minutes of my life, no one was going to leave me alone.
I glanced at the screen. Franklin.
Let the good news rain down.
“What’s up?”
“Mr. Robson. We’re hitting some obstacles with the permits in New York. I think you should be there in person tomorrow to resolve them.”
Fucking New York and the mess it was turning out to be. Flying there used to be a pleasant change, now it was a nuisance. “I’ll fly out tonight. Send the info.”
I hung up on Franklin. If I weren’t such a control freak, I’d let Helen handle Franklin and New York. It’d serve the old boy right.
A long flight with nothing but my fury to keep me company.
Unless…
I punched in Mara’s number. “You awake?”
She chuckled. “It’s almost noon. I’m on my way to see Mom. Are you feeling better?”
I grimaced. Her concern sounded genuine. She was good. “I’ve got special plans for tonight. We’re going out and it’s a surprise.”
“But—”
“Saying no isn’t allowed. Have I got a surprise for you. I’ll pick you up at five.”
I heard the smile in her voice when she finally said yes.
Yeah. I had a surprise, all right.
Mara
Giddy butterflies danced in my stomach as I raced out to meet Wes. How long had he been parked out there? I’d expected him to come to the door. I’d happened to peek out and had seen him sitting and staring straight ahead, his profile barely discernible in the fading daylight.
When I crawled in, I gulped at the predatory look he gave me. Streetlights gleamed over his dark hair and shadows shaded his eyes. His dark green Henley and black jeans added to the sinister effect.
“Ready for the surprise?”
My first instinct was to say no. The change from how he’d left last night to this set off faint alarms. “Absolutely.”
He leaned over and brushed my lips with his. “You’ll have to wait.” With a wink, he tore off.
He didn’t talk much so I tried to guess what he had planned. When he started slowing down and making turns, I couldn’t believe it.
“The airport?”
He grinned. “Just wait.”
I’d never flown anywhere, none of it was familiar, but he seemed to be driving places most normal people wouldn’t.
What was he pulling?
He parked in a small lot. “Come on.”
He pulled me out in the brisk air and I had to trot to keep up with the hold he had on my hand.
A small white plane with blue lines sat with blinking lights. A small set of stairs ran down from an open door.
“Sam?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Surprise.”
He hustled me inside and my eyes widened at the sophisticated cabin. What style would my old friend have called this? Business mogul contemporary?
A man in a pilot’s uniform shut us into the plane and my chest squeezed in a burst of claustrophobia. He avoided looking at them as he disappeared into the cockpit.
Wes settled me into a puffy leather chair, and as I stared around me, not sure if I should be thrilled, or scared, or both, he buckled me in. Somehow, I heard the click over my pounding heart. Wes sat next to me and buckled himself in.
I craned my neck over the seats. There was no one else on the flight. This plane and the way it screamed make it rain fit the image of Wes’s headshot, the one Ephraim had shown me. Modern, upscale. I could imagine him in a suit by a designer I couldn’t afford to hear the name of, relaxed in a chair, swirling a glass of the Macallan he’d ordered the night we’d met.
The Wes I pictured in this plane, looming in that office tower by
