Chapter 4
Four
GENEVIEVE
F ind an ally .
The next morning, after a tearful goodbye with her mother, the bodybuilder thug shoved Genevieve and her purple suitcase out the door and into her red Camry, settling his massive frame in the passenger’s seat next to her. She drove toward work with one goal and one goal only—to convince Mr. King to become her ally. After churning her mom’s sage advice through her mind half the night, she’d decided to bend her moral code. Right or wrong, she needed his help.
He was into her, right? She wasn’t imagining things? He’d come along and use his brilliance to help her and her mom out of this mess. She planned to cut off the snake’s head—Jed had made her life the living hell he’d promised, and she wanted to be the one to make him pay for it. But her mom was right—going things alone was dumb at best. Two brains were smarter than one. Mr. King’s sharp black-and-white mind would mix with her array of colors, and Jed wouldn’t know what hit him.
She’d had coworkers hint that Mr. King was interested—some bold comments about how she had to watch The Race for Riches or Romance, Tangle in the Tropics , but she didn’t want to see how easily identifiable she’d been, stressing for days that Jed’s men might track her down, so she never had. Mr. King said some ‘telling things’ a few of her lunch buddies told her. ‘ Oh yeah, really? Just spell it out for me!’ she wanted to yell at them; instead, when she’d prodded politely, they’d commented that Mr. King asked for zero in-office gossip about the show. Again, her boss was smart and one step ahead of every issue, and he was her key to co-taking-down Jed Marshall. He was her ally.
“What the hell is this about?” The bodybuilder braced his elbows on the passenger seat armrests, shifting his large frame up. “Why are you stopping at your office? I told you, Ms. Genevieve, when you get tired, I’ll drive. We’re going straight through to Reno—gas stops only.”
Genevieve pulled into the front drop-off circle of BC King Enterprises, where Mr. King’s security guards would see her get out of the vehicle on his obsessive-compulsive number of cameras. When she’d first started working for Mr. King, the cameras unnerved her, the lenses catching her skittish gazes like Jed could somehow stare straight through them, but she’d since become comforted by her boss’s tight security measures.
Mr. King was a sweetheart—he only wanted to protect his business and employees—nothing more. This thug beside her had no chance of forcing her back into the car before she executed her plan, or Mr. King would have several equally intimidating bodybuilder types approach him before he could react. The confidence in the truth of that rang through her, propelling her ahead to ask the world’s most seemingly compassionate man for help.
“You need to start talking now ,”—the bodybuilder gritted his teeth as she parked flush with the semicircle curve—“or I’ll have to put my hands on you, and the boss won’t like it. ”
Genevieve reached for her door handle, and a frantic look crossed the bodybuilder’s angular features. In a lightning-fast move, he wrapped an iron grip around her forearm.
She raised a brow. “I need to talk to my boss and make up an excuse. He’ll eventually call the cops and report me as a missing person if I don’t show up for work.”
He shot her a menacing glare. “Don’t try anything, Ms. Genevieve. You know the boss’s terms.”
She cocked her head, zeroing in on the green dragon tattoo that climbed up the side of the man’s neck before meeting his dark, brooding eyes. “I recognize you. You’re one of Marshal’s top guys, aren’t you?”
The man’s mouth quirked up at the compliment. “I am.”
Hmm…this man likes to feel important. Perhaps I can use that. “Remind me of your name.”
“Roman,” he grunted, letting go of her.
Genevieve flung open the driver’s door, pocketing her key. “Roman,” she said sweetly, “I’ll see you in a few.”
Feigning confidence, she waltzed through the front doors of BC King Enterprises and nodded politely at the security guards. “I know I don’t normally park out front,”—she motioned a finger behind her head—“but I just need to dash into my office and back out.”
“No problem, Ms. Green,” one of the muscular guards said with a single nod. “Mr. King granted you full security access to the grounds when he hired you. Leave it there all day if you want.”
Her mouth dropped open before she quickly slammed it shut. That’s something she didn’t know. She masked her expression and smiled warmly at the guard, followed by several employees along the halls, as she pondered the new information. If that was the case, there was no need to check in with Mr. King’s executive assistant. She always cleared her meetings with Chris, even though Mr. King was typically so deep in thought he didn’t notice if she’d been buzzed in or not. But what the hell? Her goals had changed.
She brushed past Chris without a word, watching him blink in surprise as she boldly walked into Mr. King’s office. Mr. King scoured his computer, his brows arched in deep concentration while his black Brioni suit sheathed his toned, lithe frame. Gosh, he was…so…dang…cute! She nibbled her lip, hesitating. Should she leave this innocent, adorable man alone? No, Genevieve. You can do this! You need help. She forced herself toward Mr. King, letting her mom’s passionate voice urge her forward in combination with her own. Find an ally, Gen. Right away! And don’t feel guilty about it.
“Mr. King?”
His head popped up, his dark brown locks and stylish glasses bouncing with the movement. In his signature gesture, he pushed the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose and swallowed, forcing those sweet cocoa-brown eyes up to meet her gaze. “Um…yes, Gigi? How can I help you?”
“I was thinking—” Genevieve sashayed over to his sizable mahogany desk and sat on the edge, twisting her body so her cream-colored silk blouse parted open. She was using her femininity, but when the occasion called for it… “—that this Goddess event you mentioned isn’t our best option.”
“I agree.” He nodded with too much intensity.
Liar! But so was she.
“We should research events that would be a better fit for the company,” he continued, tugging on his crisp white business shirt collar. His eyes widened when the top buttons popped open involuntarily. “My friend is pretty new to the business.”
Yeah, right! Your friend isn’t putting on an event at all. She beamed a seductive smile at him while he drew in a sharp breath. His hand shot up to cover the front of his upper chest, concealing his shaved skin, his cheeks ablaze. Hot! What else did he have hidden under that fancy suit? She really needed to back off, but suddenly, the effects she had on Mr. King turned her on. She’d never let herself go there before with him because she’d needed her job, but now…
Mr. King leaned back in his swiveling office chair, rolling away a few paces while clearing his throat. “Could you handle researching some options for us?”
“Well, it’s funny you should mention it,” Genevieve purred, inching closer. “Perfect timing.” He swallowed even harder, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while she continued, “There’s a conference in Reno that would be a good fit for your company—at The Outlaw Resort and Casino. I wondered if you might attend with me? I think having the CEO there is a must.” She waved her palm out dramatically. “These clients need to know we’re serious.”
“Sure,” Mr. King croaked out, “yeah.” He held her eyes without faltering. At least he had guts even if she had his nerves on edge—and she needed him to. No one could take on Jed Marshall otherwise. Mr. King motioned in the general direction of his executive assistant’s desk. “Just let Chris know when it is, and I’ll have him book plane tickets for both of?—"
“Oh, no.” Genevieve shook her head. “No need, Mr. King. I want to drive. It’s best if we leave today…like right now. I’ve already booked rooms at The Outlaw for tomorrow night. Two single king suites across the hall from one another.”
“Uh…” Mr. King picked up his black-and-gold marble rollerball pen, twirling it between his fingers at such a fast pace his skill was as keen as a juggler. So damn cute! “Leave today? That’s…well…I’m sure Chris can adjust my schedule.” He nodded as if convincing himself that changing plans at the last minute was an acceptable action. “Quill can cover.” Still spinning the ornate pen, he rubbed a finger from his free hand unde r his lip, crinkling his brow. “You said you want to drive? I can if you’d prefer?”
“Oh, so nice of you to offer.” He was playing right into her palm. Genevieve should feel guilty, but the closer she got to Mr. King, the less guilt and the more admiration she felt. Releasing a tense breath, she stood and backed toward his office door before he could change his mind. “Yes, actually, that would be nice.”
He bobbed his head, holding his glasses in place with the tip of his thumb. “Of course. I’ll pack my work laptop and meet you in the back parking lot by the east fence. I have a private space on the side of the building.” He put up a finger. “Oh, and we’ll need to swing by my place so I can pack a suitcase.”
“Great, I’ll grab my things from my cubicle and meet you outside. We’ll probably need to stay a night in a roadside motel along the way. It’s about a fourteen-hour drive.”
Mr. King flashed her a curious gaze, tipping his head to the side. “Sure, whatever you’d like to do, Gigi.”
Genevieve forced a bright smile, hoping Mr. King would settle things quickly with Chris and Quill. It wouldn’t take long for Roman to act in some manner, and she wanted to be on the road before he did. She rushed to her cubicle, grabbed her black office bag, and shoved her MacBook into the padded slot before wrenching her already-packed emergency duffel bag out from under her desk. She’d been ready to cut and run again at the slightest hint Jed might be on to her.
Glancing back for what surely would be the last time at her cozy cubicle dotted with blooming plants and knick-knacks, she flung her heavy black duffel over her shoulder. The bag was jampacked with necessities—a huge wad of cash, an extra purse, several outfits, a couple pairs of shoes, two wigs for disguise, and all kinds of toiletries and concealing makeup.
Genevieve had left her favorite purse and purple suitcase in the Camry. Roman would notice if she’d taken them into the office with her, and he’d more than likely already slipped a tracker into one or both bags. She had to resume life on the run, just like when she and her mom bolted almost three years ago. That meant nothing traceable—no phone, no credit cards, and especially no objects touched by Jed Marshall or one of his men.
She glared at the clock on the wall—only thirty-six hours left before Jed expected her to be obediently standing by his side, and that meant only thirty-six hours left to convince Mr. King to become her ally.
Genevieve rushed out to the east side of the back parking lot. Every second counted for getting on the road before Roman became suspicious and came looking for her. She pondered how to enlist Mr. King’s help while she tried to block visions of Roman bursting through the lot’s main gate. After fifteen minutes of hiding behind a parked car, Mr. King finally emerged.
“It’s freezing out today.” He pulled a sleek, shiny black key fob out of his suit pocket. “I should have suggested you wait at your desk. Sorry about that.”
“No problem. It was my idea to wait out here.” Genevieve beamed another smile, the kind that brought most men to their knees. For heaven’s sake, what’s wrong with you? Tone it down, Gen! It’s not the time to flirt.
Mr. King gulped and stuttered, “Through here,” in a surprisingly deep and oh-so-sexy voice through his jitters. He punched a code into a panel, opening a private gate without looking her way, and headed toward a few parked cars—executive parking, it seemed. Clicking on his key fob, the lights of a blue Tesla thrummed to life.
Genevieve spotted a Plaid badge on the back. “Holy shit.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “You have a friggin’ Model X Plaid? ”
He fisted the bottom of his suit jacket. “Yeah, are you into cars?”
“Not really, but I’ve heard these things are really fast.”
Mr. King hesitated before launching words out so quickly she had to focus on processing them all. “It’s the fastest accelerating SUV on the planet. It can go from zero to sixty miles per hour in less than two seconds—at least that’s what the Tesla website claims, but most argue it takes two-point-three seconds. My opinion is that the right driver can get it under two.”
Genevieve’s mouth parted open in awestruck amusement as she observed Mr. King jump from shy to giddy within the same timeframe that he’d said it would take the most expensive car she’d ever seen to sprint.
“And get this”—his glasses slid down, and he propped them back up as he walked to the trunk to help her with her bags—“I’ve heard it can reach two hundred miles per hour. That’s faster than the maximum speed recorded in NASCAR last season.” He smirked. “Want to try it out with me in the desert on the way? I haven’t had the chance to test its limits yet. There’s got to be a mud flat or an empty section of highway somewhere in Utah or Nevada.”
“Yeah!” Genevieve smacked her hands together, eyeing the shiny black wheels. “That sounds amazing. I’ve never done anything like that before.” She smoothed her fingers across the deep blue metallic paint on the passenger’s side and watched him flinch while she touched his car. He was probably afraid she’d get smudges on it. So cute! Gosh, she wished she could flirt for a date with him. Her stomach dropped at the thought and, with it, all her new-found excitement. Unfortunately, a date with a nice man wasn’t her reality—none of this was. “I mean”—she bit her lip—“that is if we can get to the conference on time. We have to be there tomorrow by six.”
Mr. King tilted his head while those deep cocoa eyes contemplated her like some kind of complex math theorem could explain her reactions. Sorry, buddy, but there’s no statement that proves to be true when you dissect me. Good luck!
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels. “We should have plenty of time for a test ride, and if we’re late, you can blame the loss of revenue on me.” He winked. “I won’t hold it against you.”
Her stomach tangled in butterflies. Where had this confident Mr. King come from? From seeing her excited about a car? This version of him was hot as hell. No, don’t go there! She needed to focus on getting to Reno, or Jed would tighten his control over her mom.
“We can’t be late,” Genevieve shot out tensely.
“Okay.” Mr. King nodded, studying her carefully while he opened the passenger’s side door for her. Was he going to analyze everything she said? “Seems like a bit of a role reversal here. Usually, I’m the one worried about schedules.” He shrugged. “But if this conference is really that important to you, then I’ll make sure you’re on time.”
“ We’re on time.”
His mouth quirked into an adorable grin. “Sure. We’re on time.”
“Thank you.”
After she slid into the leather seat, Mr. King shut her door and pulled the nozzle out the Tesla’s charging port. He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, clicked a button on the touchscreen to open the private front gate, and drove them through, tapping his left blinker on.
“Oh, no, go right.” Genevieve pointed out her window.
“But it’s faster to get to my house if we?—”
“Please, Mr. King, just trust me. Chris said there was an accident and seeing that sort of thing makes my feet freeze. I don’t mind if it takes longer to get to your place.”
Ugh, more lies! She could actually handle blood and guts just fine as long as the blood wasn’t on her hands. But with Roman still parked in the front semicircle, if they turned left, they’d pass by him, and he’d notice her hair. The bright red was hard to miss. It worked well to draw attention away from her face, but now that Jed’s crew had her color pegged, the bright strands were a liability. She needed to dye it a different color asap!
Mr. King nodded, quickly masking a disbelieving frown, but she’d seen it. “No problem.” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes before his grin returned. “I’m certainly not the one in a hurry.”
A gentle laugh tickled her throat. “So the illustrious Mr. King has a sense of humor?”
“Occasionally…with the right person.” His smile lifted even higher, and her stomach fluttered in response.
With the right person! OMG, her mom’s words flitted through her mind. No one in this world is worse off if they rely on the right people.
Mr. King’s fingers tapped repetitively on the steering wheel as he maneuvered his smooth Tesla along the Aspen city streets. He really was such a nice man—he deserved better than what she was doing to him. She clasped her palms together, squeezing tightly. If Jed found out that she was allied with another man, would he kill him? He didn’t typically operate that way, but with his possessive feelings for her, if he thought she cared about Mr. King, what then? Her heart rate slowly climbed, and shallow breaths escaped her throat. This was wrong. Her mom’s words were all that kept her from blurting out that he should turn around and run.
“Are you okay, Gigi?”
“Yeah.” She released her clutched hands, rubbing them up and down her slacks to dry her clammy palms. “It’s just thinking about the accident. I’m fine, sorry. Maybe we could put on some music for a few minutes to get my mind off it. ”
Lies, lies, lies!
“Sure.” Mr. King moved like lightning, tapping the touchscreen between them until he settled on a SiriusXM modern pop station. A peppy song from some band she’d never heard before purred through his flawless black speakers, so smooth Genevieve felt like she was sitting in the front row of a live concert. “Is this station okay?”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Anything to keep the conversation at bay right now.
Ten minutes later, he opened a wrought-iron gate with his touchscreen and drove down a long paved private road. A modern A-framed mansion with multi-pane glass windows peaked through the evergreen trees. Genevieve’s mouth drifted open as she took in the scene. His mansion, nestled front and center at the end of the driveway, faced a pristine meadow encasing the Roaring Fork River with white-capped mountains silhouetted in the distance.
“Wow, Mr. King, this place is breathtaking.”
“Uh…yeah, thanks.” He parked and twisted his hands on the steering wheel. “Would you like to come in?”
“Oh, no thanks. I think it’s best if I just wait here since we’re on a time schedule.” She glanced at the six-car garage and another separate outbuilding with eight more garage ports, blinking as she processed it all. “That is, if this is the car you want to take?”
Mr. King bobbed his head. “This car is good. Like I said, it sure would be fun to try out its speed if we have time. Um, I’ll be right back.” He flung open his car door and took off toward his mansion.
Genevieve giggled as his lean, fit form disappeared into his unnecessarily huge estate. Was he proud of what he’d earned? Or did he feel guilty about it? What a conundrum this man was. If Jed owned something like this, he’d advertise it to the world. Now that she thought about it, though a different style, Jed did, in fact, own places like this, and he did just that. Mr. King, however, didn’t seem to want to flaunt his wealth. He hid his cars. He hid his mansion. He hid the sexy, bold side of his personality. What else was he hiding and why? She wasn’t sure, but she certainly aimed to find out.