Chapter 5
Five
GENEVIEVE
M r. King opened the trunk of his Tesla with the click of a button and tossed a shiny black suitcase next to his briefcase and her bags. He slid in beside her and started the engine, mapping their route to The Outlaw Resort and Casino. They listened to the peppy pop station until they reached a forested highway outside of Aspen that would take them through Colorado, followed by Utah, and finally to Nevada.
Genevieve nibbled on her lip, unable to deny her interest in everything about this quiet, mysterious man. “I think I’m good without the music now if you are.”
“Sure.” He tapped on his touchscreen, enveloping them in peaceful silence.
“Tell me, Mr. King,”—she ghosted a smile—“why are you embarrassed by your success?”
His head jerked back. “Embarrassed? I’m not embarrassed.”
“Really? Then why do you conceal it? Why so casual about it all? You park your expensive cars where no one can see them. You host all the company holiday and team-building parties at venues around Aspen instead of even once opening the doors to your impressive estate. You wear top-of-the-line Brioni, but one has to know designers to recognize your style is tailored. Your suits and business shirts are obviously custom fit.” She flailed a hand toward him, motioning up and down. “I mean, come on, you look hot wearing that , and you have to know it, but you don’t flaunt it. Why? Why make that much money and not want to draw people’s eyes?”
His lips twitched. “You think I look hot?”
An amused giggle escaped her lips. “That’s what you took away from what I just said?”
In all honesty, he was insanely hot. He looked like a refined Italian fashion model. The glasses embellished his intelligence. The floppy brown hair could be gelled to a wavy pattern that would scream groomed. And if he stuck his hands in his pockets and tilted his chin up toward the sky like he owned the world, he could be on the cover of a magazine.
She eyed him up and down as he sat poised, steering around a curve one-handed. Oh yeah, I think you look insanely hot! “What would you do if I said yes?”
Mr. King’s head swiveled toward her. “What would I do ?”
“Yes, what would you do?”
He curled his fingers tighter on the wheel. “I’d ask you out.”
Holy moly! It was her turn to gulp down a breath. Why had she led the conversation this way? She always took things too far, and this was not the conversation they needed to be having. They needed to be discussing how she wasn’t girlfriend material and desperately needed his help, but just when she thought this man was a shy recluse, he turned it on and said exactly what she thought he wouldn’t.
“I wish I could say yes,” she whispered.
His eyes widened. “Then do.”
Genevieve shook her head. “I can’t right now, I’m sorry. Mr. King, I…” She pulled her lip between her teeth. “I might as we ll come out with it… I have a shady past”—she sighed—“and some serious, serious baggage.”
He glanced at her pinched features. “What would you say if I told you that I’m not surprised?” His eyes held a hint of challenge. “And that it doesn’t deter my interest in you?”
She gaped at him.
While grinning at her reaction, his eyes rotated between the rearview mirror and her stunned expression before his smile faltered. “Gigi, I’d have to be dense not to know something’s haunting you. I might be engrossed in my work ninety-nine percent of the time, but not when it comes to you. I’m smart enough to pick up on the obvious.”
“So smart that you didn’t do a background check on me?”
He shrugged, continuing to stare at the mirror. “I usually have HR complete extensive background checks before we make an offer, but when we interviewed you, for some reason, I didn’t. I suppose that deep down, I didn’t want a reason not to hire you, and further, I truly didn’t want to invade your privacy.”
“You should have invaded.”
“And if I had, would I have hired you?”
“No.”
“Well then, that would have been a mistake.”
“Tell me if you’re singing the same tune in a couple of days.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should enlighten me then. I get the distinct feeling that we’re not going to a business conference.”
“Gee, what makes you think that?”
“Partly because you agreed to go somewhere outside the office with me.”
“It was a rhetorical question.” She shook her head, lifting her lips. “I meant it sarcastically.”
“I know.” He paused, rotating his eyes between the mirrors and her gaze. “Regardless, I’ve known that something was seriously wrong since you walked into my office this morning. The off-point urgent travel request, tense body language, and obvious flirtatious manipulation tipped me off, but also?—”
“I wasn’t just flirting because I needed something, I was?—”
He pointed at the rearview mirror. “That man’s been tailing us in your car since we left my house. That’s your red Camry if I’m not mistaken?”
“ What? ” Genevieve squeaked. “Oh my gosh, Roman. How did he find me so quickly?”
“Lucky for us,” Mr. King said with a fierce edge to his tone, “ Roman can’t catch us in this car.” He punched on the accelerator like some sort of action movie hero, and they bolted forward from zero to whatever the heck they were going now within seconds.
“There’s no way.” She grabbed the door handle, tensing her muscles. “The key is in my pocket.”
Mr. King puffed a breath out through his nose and shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. If this guy knows anything about cars, which I’d guess he does based on his driving skills alone, then he programmed a blank key fob using a wireless transmitter. All he had to do was capture the signal from your genuine digital key and relay it back to your vehicle. That’s one of the reasons I keep my cars locked behind private gates—they’d be prime targets for thieves.”
Genevieve retained only the pertinent information in Mr. King’s geeky dissertation as the trees flew by in her peripheral vision, her eyes wide as saucers. Her breaths intensified to heightened gasps as they sped around curve after curve.
“The other reason is privacy,” he continued with unexplainable calmness, “which is the answer to your earlier question, by the way. I’m not embarrassed by my success. I just prefer to keep my personal and work life separate. I feel no need to impress coworkers—I like the challenge of my job, but beyond that, I don’t care what anyone in the office thinks of me. My friends and family are the only ones I let into my sphere outside of work, and they take me as I am, just as I would them.”
Genevieve relaxed her shoulders and released the door handle, his voice and words soothing her as they entered a straightaway.
“Rich or not,” he continued, “I don’t take to people who would care about my financial status. Anyone in my personal life who wouldn’t associate with me if I lived in a shack and couldn’t afford a car isn’t worth my time. The cars and the house are for me—I like fast cars and hanging out comfortably at home. I don’t really spend much beyond that.”
“That’s sweet.” She turned her head and smiled at him. “I like your mentality about your home. I quite agree. My mom and I live in a tiny apartment, and it feels like heaven every time I walk in the door, just as it would if we lived in a mansion. She’s just so homey that any amount of square footage would suit us.”
Mr. King nodded. “Your mom sounds like an amazing woman. She’d probably get along great with mine. My mom always tries to bring things over to my place to make it feel less formal.” He chuckled. “She thinks it looks like it’s staged to be up for sale. I’m just…tidy.”
Genevieve trickled out a laugh. “I can see that about you. What would you do if some woman moved in and made a mess of it?” His features scrunched up, and she continued prodding at him for fun. “You know…decorated all the rooms with frilly pillows, scented candles, knick-knacks, and a huge variety of plants. Maybe added some purple drapes in the bedroom and floral comforters to your tidy bed.” She winked at him.
“Depends on the woman.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from blurting out that she was just teasing him, though he probably already knew. He seemed to respond to her questions regardless, which sent her heart into a confusing frenzy. And now—blast it!—she was genuinely curious about his response.
He let out a long sigh. “But since we seem to be answering each other’s questions with full transparency today, I might as well continue the tradition.” He met her eyes, lifting the corner of his mouth into another sexy-as-hell grin. “I’d let you make a mess of it.”
Genevieve stared at him, frozen in surprise.
Coming up to a spiral curve, he turned his head, focusing temporarily on the road before continuing, “The truth is that I never cared what anyone thought of me until I met you .” He shook his head as if in defeat. “I wanted to attract your attention. When you said you found me hot a few minutes ago—you pegged the reason for the custom-fitted clothes. I started paying more attention to my appearance after you joined the company. New clothes, new glasses, a better haircut, and”—his cheeks flushed—“increased workouts with Quill.”
He sighed again, averting his gaze. “Not at all proud of this, but if I thought having a holiday party at my house and flaunting my wealth would have drawn your initial interest just to get an in with you, I probably would have done it. I’m a commitment-type guy, so the superficialness of those thoughts is counterproductive.” He shrugged. “So was the appearance overhaul in hindsight, but I guess I didn’t know how else to get your attention.”
Genevieve blinked herself out of her stunned trance. “Why didn’t you just ask me out?”
“Would you have said yes?”
“No, but?—”
“There’s your answer.”
“Not because I wouldn’t have wanted to…because my life is a complete and utter jacked-up mess. Believe me,”—she fl ashed her palm out—“making a mess of your house is minor compared to all the other things I can mess up for you.”
He tilted his head in contemplation. “So there’s a chance, then, at some point in the future, when we get whatever this mess is that you’re dealing with resolved, that you might say yes if I ask you out?”
Genevieve huffed out an amused breath. “I know why you’re a multi-millionaire now… You’re relentless.” She reached down and pulled off her heels as a thought occurred to her.
“I just want to know so I can keep my hopes from getting too high if the answer is?—”
“If you’d listened this whole time, you’d already have your answer, but I’m warning you now, Mr. King, that I’m currently not girlfriend material. I feel guilty as heck for dragging you into this, and I should probably tell you to run the other way, but I need your help.”
He nodded. “So, that’s a potential yes then?”
She blew out another breath, this time more exasperated than amused. “ Potential yes, but I’m not making any promises, more for your sake than for mine.”
A slightly arrogant smirk crept up his face. “Potential is all I need to make something happen.”
“Of course.” Smiling, Genevieve rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable. Possibly the nicest guy I’ve ever met but also just…single-minded.” She studied the triangular base of her heels, wrinkling her nose.
“Actually, I’m not. I just go after what I want. You finally gave me a few hints that you might be interested in me as more than a work associate, and my first priority is to act on it while I can. Though it may appear otherwise, I’m typically focused on a dozen things at once. The most important at the moment is to leave this Roman guy in the dust.” He nodded his head toward her heels. “I agree, by the way. There’s a tracker in those.”
Genevieve cursed. “Stupid. I know better.” She rolled down the window and tossed them out. “Too bad. I loved those shoes.” Taking a deep, recalibrating breath, she glanced behind them down a long straightaway. What on earth? Her Camry was barely visible, just rounding a curve at least a quarter of a mile behind them. She leaned over to look at the Tesla’s speedometer.
“Mr. King, you’re going ninety miles per hour!” She blanched, latching back onto the door handle. “You’re going to kill us before he does.”
“I had you distracted for a while, unfortunately not anymore. Just focus on our conversation. That was helping you.”
She gasped. “You were just asking me out to distract me?”
“Gigi, I’m more than interested. Believe me, I’m not the type of guy to say anything I don’t mean.” Mr. King adjusted in his seat, leaning forward as they entered a new set of curves. “We need to lose him completely, and then it would be nice if you’d tell me what’s going on. I think I’m finally justified in invading your privacy. Not that I mind.” He tightened his lips, narrowing his eyes at the rearview mirror. “What’s this guy’s goal?”
“His goal?”
“Yes.” Mr. King whipped them around another curve while she screeched. “Does he want you in one piece, or is he a total psycho?”
“One piece. He’d be in deep if one hair on my head is harmed.”
“Good. That’s in our favor. What does he want?”
Genevieve spaced out as they sped around a downhill U-shaped curve, gripping the door handle like a lifeline in case they went flying into the trees .
“Relax. I’m a good driver.”
“A good driver?” she squeaked. “This is like race car driving, not regular everyday driving.”
“Precisely. I’ve gone to the track with Quill many times. We practice with the world’s best NASCAR drivers for fun. We’re not as fast as them, but it’s one of our hobbies. Gigi,”—he reached across the divide and covered her hand, sending her heart into a pattery mess—“focus on me. I can tell talking to me relaxes you, especially when you’re engrossed in our conversation. Can’t tell you how fucking good that makes me feel.”
Genevieve stared at him in shocked disbelief. Nice guy, bad boy, or both? She loved it—not only did he have a cocky edge to his sweet personality, but he also picked up on everything. Na?ve my ass—she’d been wrong—he was just as or perhaps even more seasoned than Jed.
“You’re not what I expected,” she whispered.
“Is that good or bad?” After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Gigi, an answer would be helpful, please. I’ll spin your words around in my head, trying to figure out what they mean, and I really need to focus. Sorry about the f-bomb, by the way. I was just trying to distract you from the road.”
“You’re incredible.” Oh, fudge, did I just say that out loud? Her response escaped her mesmerized lips before she’d thought it through.
He flashed her a pleased smile so enticing that her pulse raced as if he’d kissed her. If his smile could do that to her, she wanted to reach out and drag his lips onto hers to find out if she’d combust on the spot. What would he do if she did?
Mr. King cleared his throat, the gravelly sound making her weak in the knees. “Glad to hear you think so. I could say the same about you.”
They entered another long straightaway with no Camry in sight behind them. After passing a few cars, he turned to reassess the mirrors, nodding. “We’ve gained some distance on the creep. I can’t see him anymore.” He punched at his touchscreen. “Time to find the nearest police station.”
“No,” Genevieve shouted, her body icing over as she swatted his hand away from the screen. “No police.”
His head reared back. “No police? This guy is stalking you.”
She thrashed her head from side to side. “Please, no police.”
Mr. King uttered a muffled curse. “I need some answers. I’m not equipped to fight this guy off, and I’m not getting tangled up in something that’s unlawful. That’s not me. If that means I hire lawyers for you, so be it, but we’re going to find an honest way to get through this. Now,”—his eyes shot to her, soft but firm—“why can’t we go to the police?”
“Once I tell you, you’ll drop me and be on your way.”
“Of course I won’t drop you. I think I just extensively clarified my interest in you…even if I wasn’t, I’d still help you, but Gigi, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“That’s the thing. I am in trouble, but it’s not my fault. Hear me out.”
He nodded. “I’m listening. Let’s start with the basics. Who is Roman?”
She chewed manically on her lower lip, hoping this incredible man didn’t change his mind. “He’s my ex-boyfriend’s head of security.”
“Did you steal something?” he asked apprehensively.
“No.” The tentative hitch in her voice wasn’t helping her case.
“Gigi, please just hit me with the details. I need information. I’m in this now… with you. Why is your ex-boyfriend’s head of security driving at life-threatening speeds to try and catch us? What does he want?”
“Me,” she whispered. “Not a stolen item. Not money. Just me. ”
Mr. King wrenched his grip on the wheel with a solid focus on the road, moving the car with ease. He ground his teeth together, looking just as fierce as her ex. She’d misjudged his gumption. If anyone could take Jed Marshall on, Brendan King might be the one.
“ Why? ”
“My ex wants me back.” She puffed out a breath. “Actually, he never didn’t want me. I just ran and have been hiding from him for over two years.”
“So why don’t we go to the police, and you can get a restraining order against him? You can stay at my place until he’s caught, and I’ll up the private security so that even Thor can’t break in.”
“You’d do that?”
He glared at her in surprise before returning his eyes to the road. “I think I’ve made that pretty clear, but even without my feelings for you, who wouldn’t?”
“Almost everyone.”
Another string of curses left what she’d previously imagined to be pure lips. “I don’t know what people in your life disappointed you to the degree that you believe something like that, but I’d like to change your perspective. I don’t have a single friend who’d abandon an innocent person in need. Let’s go to the police. Now . We’ll slap this guy with a restraining order and protect you so you can live in peace.”
“I wish I could,”—Genevieve reached across the divide and grasped his hand, listening to him suck in a heated breath—“but this is more complicated than that.”
“Enlighten me.”
And she did. Watching his jaw twitch through almost every word, all the way from the shady fraudulent contracts Jed made her sign to the warrants to the kidnapping of her mom.
He smacked the wheel with his palm. “How can he possibly have that much influence over the Reno police? You don’t think we can go to another precinct for help?”
She shook her head. “Not easily. What police station would outright believe the Reno police have that powerful of fraudulent connections? More than likely, they’ll think I’m lying, but even if you or I plant a seed of doubt, they’ll arrest me on the spot because of the warrants and tell me to deal with my concerns in court.” She huffed out a breath. “Jed will never let me go to court, especially if he suspects I have an ally. He’ll have me transferred to Reno, or his thugs will intercept me from wherever I’m locked up.”
“I have a hard time believing that’s possible.”
“It is. He always finds a way.” She tossed up her hands. “Welcome to my world.”
“That’s crazy—the corruption, the fractures in the police, the crime rings—all of it. He’s crazy!” He drew in a deep breath. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of this mess. I just need time to process and problem-solve.” He pounded the steering wheel a few more times. “Damn, I’m having such a hard time accepting that this guy can get away with so much unchallenged. He has to have cracks in his network.”
Genevieve glanced at his fuming face, another bout of guilt racking through her. “I’m sure he does, but Mr. King, I caution you to tread carefully when you talk to anyone , law enforcement or otherwise. I don’t want you getting hurt trying to help me. Most people I’ve met aren’t like you or your friends—they’re inherently selfish, even if they appear not to be. Money and power talk, which I know you already understand since you help people expand their wealth, but endless greed is a filthy animal. Everyone wants more, but those who earn things the dirty way won’t take no for an answer. Nothing is ever enough. I’m sure you’ve sued people who’ve tried to break into your programs for fraudulent financial gain, so you know shady dealings are out there, but to live trapped within it really opens your eyes—believe me.”
She sighed, wishing she didn’t have to challenge his altruistic perception of human nature. “As you’re well aware, you have to be talented and skilled to earn millions, and Jed Marshall is too. He’s like a modern-day American Mafia Don. He manipulates, he controls”—she squeezed her eyes shut—“he possesses. He’s not like you. You’ve earned your millions through legal channels. To get what you want, you earn it, and you choose to live with things that are out of your control—taxes, regulations, laws, people’s choices. To get what he wants, he demands it, and he doesn’t live with things being out of his control. He takes them anyway, and that includes me.”
“Well,”—Mr. King sharpened his gaze on the road—“that bastard’s about to have one hell of an obstacle out of his control because he just messed with the wrong man.”
Genevieve stared at him in agape wonder. Mr. King’s cocky confidence was so freaking hot he lit her core on fire along with her ambition for the future. She blew out a tentative breath, daring to hope that Brendan King was her knight in shining armor. But the jury was still out…
He hadn’t met Jed Marshall yet.