Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Parker
It had been a long month. The hours I’d been working to prepare for the Sunrise gala had been brutal, and now it was all over. We’d far exceeded our one-hundred-thousand-pound target—by twenty grand. I was going to make the most of having a Friday evening off.
I padded through my flat, wearing my favorite cow print pajamas with a freshly applied facemask that promised a dewy, youthful glow.
I bet Tristan had plenty of dewy, youthful girls at his beck and call—no face mask required.
I wasn’t competing, yet at the same time, I didn’t want tomorrow night to be a pity date.
He might have bid on me to impress my father, but I was going to trick him—not into marriage as Sutton suggested—but at least into a good time.
He’d see that I was date-worthy, regardless of who my father was.
I’d just poured out my specially prepared ginger and turmeric tea that promised me the immune system of a floor-licking toddler.
All I needed now was a couple of episodes of Cheer on Netflix, and life would shift gears into the sublime.
The chocolate-covered raisins I had poured into a bowl and balanced precariously on the sofa arm might have to be consumed for me to reach true nirvana.
Just as I picked up the remote control, there was a bang on my door. No one just turned up to my flat, not unless it was an emergency. I raced to my door and flung it open to find none other than Tristan towering over me.
He prodded at my face. “I preferred the cream.”
I pushed his poky finger away. “What are you doing here?” How did he get by the security at the front desk?
“The security in this building is horrible,” he said. “I got in using a key fob I bought on . That’s how bad it is.”
Why was he here at all? I hoped he wasn’t trying to move our date up. He wasn’t supposed to see me in novelty nightwear and a face mask.
“Thank you for the feedback.” I went to close the door but he caught it with his hand. The big, strong hands that had the ability to crush my bones into a fine powder. Later, I could think about why that was so appealing.
“Hey, I have some questions about that unauthorized payment you said left your account.”
“Just wait a minute. First you need to tell me how you found out where I live. Then you need to explain what in the hell you’re doing here. And then you need to leave. In that order.”
“I told you. It’s about the payments made to the charity. I think I might have remembered the name incorrectly. It’s not bringing up anything when I do a search.”
Had my building started spiking the cold tap with vodka? Was I passed out drunk on my sofa and this was all a bad dream? There had to be an explanation for the twilight-zone conversation I was having right now.
“What are you searching for and why?”
“The fraudulent payments from your account, and because it’s my job,” he said. “Sort of.”
Things were starting to make sense. Tristan was my dad’s stooge. Dad must have arranged to have Tristan bid on me at the auction, then hired him as some kind of security guard. “My dad sent you?”
He looked at me like I’d just said I liked to ride an elephant down Regent’s Street to work.
“Your dad? What does he have to do with anything? I dropped by because of the payment that flashed up on your phone. I didn’t want to call or message when we don’t know what we’re dealing with.
If I remembered its name correctly, the company that took the payment out of your account has hidden their tracks well.
I don’t want them to know we’re onto them. ”
“Okay,” I said slowly, though a lot of what Tristan had just said sounded decidedly not okay. “So . . . you’re trying to help me?”
He widened his eyes and nodded like I’d just come from planet Stupider.
“How did you find out my address?”
“I’m an expert in cyber security. If I couldn’t find out your address given your electronic footprint—which is everywhere by the way—then I wouldn’t be able to call myself an expert.”
“So when you said getting involved in my bank issue is what you do, you mean it’s literally what you do.”
“Of course. What did you think I meant?”
I chose not to answer that. “I’m feeling a little freaked out,” I said instead. The guy hadn’t tried to cross the threshold of my apartment, but it wasn’t normal for a near-stranger to show up unannounced and tell you he found your address online.
“You might have reason to be. People who make these fraudulent claims from bank accounts can be tied to Russian mafia and even ISIS.”
“I mean you, Tristan. You’re freaking me out.”
“You’re a fine one to talk, given . . .” He looked me up and down. “Your face. And the cows.”
“But I didn’t show up at your door, having neither been invited nor given your address.”
“Oh, I see what you mean. I’m doing you a favor. I don’t normally get involved with shit like this. Call your father. He’ll vouch for me.”
I grabbed my phone from the console table just inside my door and called my dad.
Tristan waited patiently, his head buried in his phone while I told my dad about Tristan wanting to help with the mysterious payments.
After he assured me he’d trust Tristan with my life—and when that didn’t satisfy me, all his money—I was reassured.
“You’d better come in.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“Give me a minute to change and wash my face.”
“Don’t bother. I’ve only got a couple of questions and then I have to leave.” He stepped across the threshold but didn’t follow me as I headed toward the lounge. I turned and waited for him to look up from his phone.
Right then, I was just going to have to stand across from the uber-hot guy while I wore cow pajamas and a face mask. Now I knew he wasn’t a weirdo stalker, I would have liked to impress him on our date tomorrow. But that ship had sailed. That cow had mooed.
“Can I see the account so I can make sure I got the name right?” he asked. Dutifully, I opened the banking app on my phone and showed him the payments. “And how many have gone through?”
“It started about a month ago. Just a pound here and there. The amounts are getting larger every couple of days.”
Tristan nodded, a little crease appearing on the bridge of his nose.
What was it with this man and his wrinkles that gave me that wobbly feeling in my stomach?
“This company is well protected. Most fraudulent payments come from organizations that are shut down within a week. You can get in and find out who they are like they left a rolled-out welcome mat in front of an open door. Whoever’s taking from you looks a little more sophisticated. ”
“Can you stop them?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“So great. Stop it and the problem’s solved.”
“Yeah, I can install some software on your account to block this company from taking any more payments. The bank has this software, so I’m not quite sure why they haven’t activated it. But I’ll do it.”
“Thanks. That’s really nice of you. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. You’re Arthur’s daughter.”
I tried to hide my irritation. “Well, Arthur’s daughter thanks you.”
He pulled his eyebrows together in a look of confusion but didn’t ask for clarification.
“Right, that’s done. But keep an eye out for payments you don’t recognize to someone else.
If they’re targeting you specifically, they’ll be back.
” He looked up and we locked eyes, and I did an internal groan because I was wearing a face mask that made me look like a serial killer’s science experiment.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He turned and opened the front door.
Big hands and a nice bum. Our date might be fun.
“Okay then,” I said, but he was almost at the lifts and couldn’t hear me. Obviously, there was no need for him to ask for my address. What else did he know about me that I hadn’t told him? I’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out.