Chapter 21
Elijah
Douglas Tucker soaked up his audience. He had from the moment the meeting started.
He stood at the far end of the conference room with his chest puffed out, chin lifted, hands clasped behind his back in what he probably imagined was a statesman’s stance. The wide window behind him framed the Deadwater skyline, evening light glinting off the river. A view designed to impress.
The room was full.
Investors. CEOs. Board members. A few politicians who pretended they weren’t politicians. Men and women with enough power between them to reshape half the industries in the country if they felt inclined.
They’d all come because I’d asked.
And Tucker thought it was all for him.
At the head of the table, I rested one ankle on the opposite knee, my fingers steepled under my chin.
Let him talk.
Across from me, Mitch tapped notes into his tablet with the quiet efficiency of a man who was just happy to have me in the office. He’d changed his tune since meeting Bonnie. Or since he’d understood the change in me.
He’d even helped me with today’s little setup.
Tucker cleared his throat and continued smoothly, “As I was saying, Deadwater represents an untapped market. Infrastructure expansion alone could generate billions over the next decade.”
A murmur of interest rippled around the table.
He was good. So confident and polished. Every word dipped in charm that had men with money leaning forward to listen. The women, I noticed, eyed him with greater caution.
Smart.
Tucker gestured towards the digital presentation glowing on the screen behind him. “My firm has already identified several investment opportunities, all of which could benefit enormously from the backing of someone with your resources, Elijah.”
Heads turned towards me.
He thought we were on friendly enough terms now to use my first name. I didn’t smile. “Go on.”
Encouraged, Tucker launched into the next slide.
Tastefully colourful charts. Growth curves.
Property developments. He expounded on opportunity and influence, his voice growing richer with every sentence.
The more he spoke, the more convinced he became that today marked a turning point in his career.
I almost admired the confidence.
He finished his pitch with a flourish and a broad spread of his arms. “And that is why this partnership could be mutually beneficial.”
Silence filled the room.
All attention shifted back to me.
I let the quiet stretch a moment longer than comfortable. Then I tipped my head. “Thank you, Douglas.”
His smile widened. “Of course.”
I rested my forearms on the table. “There’s just one thing I’m curious about.”
“Anything,” he said.
“How do you treat the women who work for you?”
The question landed in the room like a dropped glass.
Tucker blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“You should be. I asked how you treat women who work for you.”
A few people shifted in their chairs.
Tucker chuckled. “Well, I’d say with respect.”
“Respect.” I nodded slowly. “Interesting.”
He glanced around the table, searching for reassurance in the faces of the other businesspeople. But they were faster at picking up my cues. The women exchanged meaningful glances.
“You can ask anyone in my organisation,” Tucker continued. “I run a professional environment.”
My gaze stayed on him. “What about outside the office?”
His smile faltered. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
I stayed perfectly calm. “I mean, how you behave towards women you believe you can’t get in trouble for touching.”
A ripple of discomfort moved through the assembled group, the men now catching up.
Mitch stopped typing and hid a smile.
Tucker’s eyes narrowed. “This seems like an odd line of questioning.”
“Does it? Humour me anyway.”
He shifted his weight. “Well, I’m a social man. I enjoy parties. Networking events. Nothing unusual in our line of work.”
I tapped a finger on the table. “What about the event you hosted in Deadwater a few weeks ago?”
His shoulders stiffened. “That was a private function. One you didn’t attend.”
“With hired waitstaff.”
“Yes.”
“Topless waitstaff.”
One of the women got up and left, taking millions in investment with her.
Tucker laughed again, louder this time. “Gentlemen enjoy a bit of fun. Boys will be boys.”
I’d always hated that expression, like men should be expected to be predators. “And the women working that event? How did you treat them?”
His expression hardened. “I don’t appreciate the implication here.”
“Then clarify it.”
Tucker looked around the table. The confidence from earlier had begun to crack. “I hired a service. They provided entertainment. Everyone had a good time.”
“Did they?”
“Yes.”
“Huh,” I murmured. “Because the reports I received described something different.”
“Reports?” Tucker scoffed. “From who?”
“The very women involved.”
He opened his mouth to laugh it off.
And the conference room doors burst open.
Every head turned. Bonnie strode into the room first. Red dress. Fire in her eyes. Behind her came Genie and Jessie. And half a dozen other women I imagined were Genie’s employees. Waitresses. Event staff. Women who had worked Tucker’s parties.
Holy shit.
The room exploded into murmurs.
Tucker froze.
So did I. If Bonnie got the wrong impression of why I was holding this meeting…
Her gaze found mine instantly. Fury still burned there. But beneath it, understanding flickered.
I concealed a slam of relief to the gut and inclined my head to her.
The floor was theirs now.
And Douglas Tucker had just run out of places to hide.