Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
Reese strongly suspected Markson was wearing a wire, and she was having a lot of fun with it.
If Knight wouldn’t/couldn’t tell her what was going on with the anti-trust investigation, even after she had earned his trust and given him two weeks of Richter scale-shattering sex, then she was entitled to have a little fun.
Besides, the plane trip from Chicago to L.A., then on to Auckland, was half her life long and she was bored. Clip-your-toenails-because-there’s-nothing-better-to-do bored.
Chatterton had insisted she fly on the Delco corporate jet with him, Markson, and four other executives. Chatterton had spent the entire flight so far on the phone, racking up cell phone bills that were probably the equivalent of Reese’s New York rent.
He could afford it because he was probably charging some woman named Dottie in Jersey City three times more than her medication should cost. Reese sincerely hoped he got what was coming to him.
Even if the case somehow didn’t get indicted, she was still going to splash Chatterton’s name all over the news, pointing to him as the crook that he was.
But in the meantime, she was talking to Markson, Jenkins, and Goldberg for lack of anything better to do. Russell was fast asleep, mouth open and emitting a low snore.
Since there was no way to turn the conversation to business without arousing suspicion, Reese was just going for personal entertainment value. “So, are you guys married?”
Jenkins, the youngest of the bunch, and good-looking if you liked big foreheads, laughed. “Why, are you looking?”
“No, but I have an ugly friend who is.”
They all laughed, including Markson, who looked more relaxed than…ever.
“But she only likes rich guys, so who qualifies?”
“Wait a minute,” Goldberg protested with a grin. “If she’s ugly, how is she going to hook a rich guy?”
“Good point. You’ve caught me. I made her up. I just wanted to know how much you guys make.” They’d better hope they weren’t too attached to their fancy lifestyles, since at least one of them was likely to end up in federal prison.
Reese tried to dredge up sympathy.
“I make enough,” Goldberg said, raising his whiskey to his lips.
Jenkins shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Not me. Five hundred thousand doesn’t go as far as it used to.”
Any sympathy she might have felt shriveled up and died. Reese uncrossed her leg and snorted. The man clearly hadn’t tried to live in New York on forty grand a year.
“What are you spending all that money on?” she asked him. “Botox and bourbon?”
The other two seemed to think it was funny, even if Jenkins was frowning. But he shook it off and winked. “I could spend it on you.”
There was a higher probability of Manhattan breaking free and floating off into the Atlantic.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I have a boyfriend.” Sort of. For lack of a better word.
Even if she didn’t get to see that much of him the last few days because of this case.
Even if they still had never spoken one word about what they actually were, and she had moved in with Claire as planned.
Her entire life was one big what-if- maybe-someday, so why did it matter if she and Knight avoided the L word like meat sold off the back of a truck?
“You do? I bet you take good care of him.”
Reese suspected that was a joke, given that she had become notorious at Delco for doing her job begrudgingly.
“Yeah, you know me. I’m Martha Stewart without the illegal activity.”
Right now she was Martha with a numb butt, given that she’d been in this seat for three hours. At least the private jet was equipped with large, plush leather chairs and a minibar. She’d sucked down two packs of peanut M&M’s, even if the flight was long and the company as stale as the snack foods.
Jenkins laughed at her joke, his voice heavy with amusement and sarcasm. “Yeah, because none of us at Delco would ever do anything illegal.”
Derek tried to bend his knee to stretch it and was stopped by his bag in front of him. Kicking his carry-on under the seat, he tried to move his leg again and was stopped by the bump for the wheel under the seat in front of him.
Christ. Economy class on a long flight sucked. On any flight it sucked.
Maddock was sitting next to him, headphones on, singing in an off-pitch obnoxiously loud voice. Derek leaned against the plastic window screen and sighed.
He should be thrilled. He should be riding high. They were inches away from sending this case to the prosecutors, secure in knowing they had done their job. Nordstrom would be pleased, and maybe would take a week or two breather from riding his back.
Yet he was edgy. Nothing was settled, nothing was firm, this case wasn’t closed.
And Reese was driving him nuts.
They spent all their time together joking and having great sex.
Which you wouldn’t think would be a problem, and normally wouldn’t be, except they were avoiding discussing anything that smacked of commitment or the future, and he was tired of it.
He didn’t even know if she was going to be in Chicago from one day to the next, or if she was going to head back to New York without warning and nothing but a cheery wave.
He sucked at timing, it seemed. Dawn had wanted nothing but commitment—marriage, a house, big cars, kids, more money, more time with him, and he hadn’t been able to give her more than half of those.
Now he was ready to settle down and get married again and have kids at some point, and he’d fallen for a woman who suffered from Fear Of Commitment.
Maddock hit a high note and Derek winced. Leaning over he pulled one of the earpieces away from Maddock and said, “Shut the hell up. You sound like a dying goat.”
Maddock blinked at his unusually surly tone and dropped the headphones around his neck. “You’re a little tense. Worried about Chatterton wanting to join the mile high club with Reese?”
Great. Now he had another reason to be pissed off.
“Oh, thank you. I never even thought of that.” He fought the urge to groan. “Man.”
Maddock turned off his music. “She’s got you, hasn’t she? You’re just a shell of the man I once knew.”
Maddock was joking, but Derek could tell he was serious as well, trying to show a little buddy-to-buddy concern. Derek appreciated the gesture. “Pretty pathetic, I know. You think I would have learned, but…damn. The minute I saw those legs I think I was gone.”
Then she had tried to Mace him and smashed his toe with her high heel. God, he loved her.
“Can’t blame you. She’s something else.”
“She really is. She’s…incredible. Brave, intelligent, quick-witted. And caring.” Damn. He was head over ass for her.
“Good for you, Knight. Lock that shit up.”
“What about you, Wyatt? You ever been in love?” Derek tossed the little cylindrical ice cubes around in his plastic airline cup and pulled his tray back down, playing with the catch on it.
“Nah. Had a serious girlfriend, you know, where you just care about each other and keep going on until something better comes along, but it wasn’t really love.”
“So what happened?”
“I guess something better came along. She went on a cruise with her girlfriends three years ago, and came back engaged to a guy she met on the day trip to Cozumel.”
“No way.”
Maddock shrugged with a grin. “Yep. It’s cool, though. She’s happy. I’m happy.”
Derek wasn’t sure he could be so philosophical if he arrived in Auckland to find Reese had fallen for Ashton Chatterton over the Pacific Ocean.
“You’re happy until CJ enters a room, then you turn into a lunatic.”
Maddock grunted. “Explain to me why she got out of this trip again? Not that I mind. I’ll probably stroll the beach and find me a Kiwi girl to keep me company, but still…seems like she should be here. White gets away with murder. ”
Derek knew exactly why CJ wasn’t there and it wasn’t his business to tell Maddock if he didn’t know. In three years of working together, CJ had just now confided in him and he wasn’t going to blab her private business around.
He had known CJ was divorced. He had known she had a kid, and chalked up her lack of conversation about her personal life to her personality.
CJ didn’t share anything about herself, and plenty of people were like that.
But when she had come to him, to let him know she was asking Nordstrom to be excused from going to New Zealand, she had told him her son had special needs and couldn’t be left with anyone but her mother.
Given the short notice, she couldn’t work out the arrangements.
He had been a little floored, but had been pleased she’d told him. She didn’t elaborate on what special needs meant, and he didn’t ask. He liked CJ, despite her reticence, and respected her. It sounded like she had a tough time of it, and he wanted to accommodate her.
“She had personal circumstances that affected her ability to travel.”
Maddock snorted. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means it’s none of your damn business.”
Maddock fingered the button of his CD player, his usual smile missing. “See, this is why I’m never falling in love. Women run the show, man, I’m telling you. Love is a circus. They just crack the whip, and you just run around them like fucking trained poodles.”
Derek tried to tell himself Maddock was wrong, but he did have a habit of panting whenever Reese entered the room. “Why don’t you save that for your future wedding vows, Wyatt? Very inspiring.”