Chapter Ten
ALICE
Lacey had shown her face in the office once or twice when one of her boys took her to lunch, but for the most part, she'd avoided me, and I'd avoided her.
Today, it appeared our mutual détente was over. Her frosted blonde hair perfectly arranged, diamonds at her ears and pearls around her neck, she stormed to the front desk wearing a cream linen suit more suitable for lunch at the club than hanging around her apartment.
I knew she wasn't cleared to leave the building since all of her available escorts were currently meeting with the FBI. I like to dress up—obviously, since I did it every day of the week—but even I didn't go full makeup, heels, and stockings when I wasn’t going anywhere.
Lacey turned a hard right in front of the desk and headed down the hall for the conference room.
Bolting out of my chair, I dashed to block her, propping my hands on my hips to take up as much space as I could.
Lacey isn’t a big woman, but almost everyone is bigger than me, and the Sinclair boys came by their height honestly.
Neither of their parents was short. Lacey towered over me, clearly thinking she could use her height to intimidate me.
Not likely. I had a crew of badasses to corral every day.
I’d long gotten over feeling small just because I was small.
“Get out of my way, slut,” Lacey hissed, only loud enough for me to hear. The scent of lime and gin hit my face. Lovely. Not long after noon, and Lacey had already sucked back her first gin and tonic. Given the open use of her pet name for me, I’d bet more than one.
Where she got off calling me a slut, I didn't know.
I was married for eleven years and I never once stepped out on my husband.
I'd been tempted, sure, especially when we’d stopped sleeping together, but I'd never so much as kissed another man since the day we'd met.
Not until Cooper, and that was more than six months after my long-overdue divorce.
I tried to let the slur roll off. This was Lacey, after all. She wasn’t one to let the truth get in the way of a good insult.
She darted to my left, trying to slide by.
I blocked her, putting my hands up to grab her shoulders and hold her back.
How a woman who lived on cocktails could be so strong, I didn't know.
I was fit, dammit. Okay, maybe I wasn't cross-training every day, but I was at the gym three or four nights a week. Dancing, not pumping iron, but still.
The alcohol Lacey had consumed worked against her and she lost her balance. I pushed her back, setting her on her feet before propping my hands on my hips again and giving her my best glare.
“Mrs. Sinclair, go back upstairs. I'll have Cooper or one of the guys come see you when they’re out of their meeting. You're not cleared to go past the front desk. Cooper told you that.”
My words couldn't penetrate Lacey's haze of gin. Shoving her shoulder into mine she tried to push past me again, sneering when I sidestepped her and kept her from making her way down the hall.
“I know they’re in a meeting, you idiot. That's why I'm here.”
In a burst of strength fueled by alcohol and rage, Lacey threw her body into mine, knocking me against the wall. I stumbled and she was off like a shot, headed straight for the conference room.
Dammit. Dammit. The last thing they needed was Lacey butting into that meeting. She reached the door ahead of me and yanked it open, bolting through and trying to tug it closed behind her before I caught up.
Gin slowed her hands and I managed to slip in behind her, already apologizing to the room. No one heard me under Lacey's irate shout.
“I don't know what you boys think you're doing, but this meeting is canceled,” she announced. “You can't make any agreements on your father's behalf. None. You might as well just pack it up and go home.”
Agent Holley pushed his chair back but didn't stand, narrowing calculating eyes on Lacey.
“Mrs. Sinclair. Nice to see you. Saves us a trip. So, you're aware that Maxwell is alive, yes?”
“I'm not aware of anything,” she protested, blustering.
Agent Holley raised an eyebrow. “If that's the case, then you're free to excuse yourself. If you don't know anything you're of no use in this meeting.”
I could have kissed Agent Holley for that. He looked unassuming in his brown suit, the cut ill-fitting on his tall, lanky frame. The kind eyes I was used to were nowhere in sight as he examined Lacey Sinclair like a bug under a microscope.
“Mrs. Sinclair, you're interrupting. If you have nothing to add, then your presence here is unnecessary. Do I need to have one of my agents remove you?”
“You have no right—”
“I have every right,” Agent Holley said smoothly, “and if I learn that you have knowledge of your husband's whereabouts, knew that he faked his death, you can be charged as an accessory. At the least with obstruction of justice. Do you understand that?”
Lacey did what she always did when faced with something she didn't like.
She ignored it. Turning her attention to her sons, she spat out, “After all he did for you, you betray your father like this.
You should stand by him. You should back him up.
Instead, you're throwing him to the wolves, treating him like a common criminal—”
“He is a common criminal,” Knox said, his eyes hard.
Knox never had much to say to his mother.
As long as I've known him, he was the one brother who never played his mother's game, never let her get away with anything. He was a good man, a good friend, and a good brother, but he lacked his siblings’ charm.
Knox didn't talk unless he had something to say, and he always cut straight to the bone. This was no exception.
Lacey's face went white. “How could you say something like that? He is your father! Your job is to protect him—”
Knox stared her down, his eyes black granite. “—and what, Mom? Should we go to jail for him? Take responsibility for his crimes and do his time in prison? Is that what you're saying? Just so we’re clear.”
Knox appeared impervious, but deep in Cooper's ice-blue eyes, I saw agony.
The pain of a child betrayed again. Betrayed by one of the two people on this planet who should put him first and never had.
His finger tapped on the surface of the conference table, the burn of pain in his eyes turning them to blue fire.
That tapping finger… Cooper was about to lose it.
I snapped.
That's the best way I can describe it. I just fucking snapped.
My hand shot out, grabbing Lacey's upper arm.
Using moves I hadn't practiced in months, not since my last mandatory training session, I wrenched Lacey's arm behind her back, pulling her hand up between her shoulder blades until it twisted her arm in the socket enough to drag a yelp of pain from her lips.
Unable to look at Cooper, I met Knox's eyes. I could have sworn I saw a glint of ironic amusement in their black depths as I said, “Please excuse us, gentlemen.”
Using my leverage on her arm, I turned Lacey around and frog-marched her out of the room. Her shoulder was going to hurt like hell later. I couldn't find it in me to care.
She'd hurt Cooper enough. Hurt all of them enough. Lacey swore at me, calling me every name in the book. I closed my ears as I shoved her through the office door to the elevator. Every time she tried to squirm out of my grip, I wrenched her arm higher until she squeaked with pain.
I didn't enjoy it, I swear. If I thought there was any way I could have gotten her out of the room without manhandling her, I would have done it. The elevator took an eternity, the ride to the floor above just as long.
I pushed her through the door of her apartment, watching impassively as she stumbled into the kitchen counter. She had the loose limbs of a habitual drunk, and while her arm might hurt tomorrow, the rest of her would be fine.
She spun to face me, and the sound of her voice came into focus.
“You little whore. You think because my son is fucking you that makes you special? Who gives you the right to lay your hands on me? Your days here are numbered. When my husband gets back—”
“When your husband gets back,” I interrupted, “he's going to prison. Unless Tsepov kills him first. I doubt staffing is going to be on his list of concerns.”
“We’ll see about that,” she flung back.
“You know, this is hard for your sons. They love Maxwell, despite everything. And he put all of you at risk. He put the business at risk. They’re doing everything they can to keep you safe and save what they’ve built. They need you to back them up. Them, not Maxwell.”
“You’re so fucking high and mighty, aren't you?” Lacey sneered.
“Since the day you showed up all you wanted is to get your claws in a Sinclair. I know your game. I know why he hired you, you little slut. You bided your time when he was done with you. Now you think you have Cooper, but you’ll never keep him.
He knows what you are. Just another whore. ”
I was used to bitchiness from Lacey, even some light name-calling, but this was over the top. Was it stress? Too many gin and tonics?
I won't deny I've had a crush on Cooper since the first day I saw him, but I never, ever did anything about it. Not until that day two weeks ago when he’d kissed me. I'd never been interested in any other Sinclair, and I'd never laid a finger on one, much less indicated I wanted to.
Let it go, I told myself. She's drunk and she's freaking out. Just lock her in and get back to the desk.
I took my own advice, turning my back on Lacey and bolting for the door before she could beat me to it. She didn't bother, leaning against the counter and staring at me with hate.
She's a lonely, bitter, unhappy woman. Feel pity, but don't let her hurt your feelings.
I pulled the door shut and typed the code into the keypad that would lock the door from the outside. We rarely had to use that code, but all of us knew it. Our job is to keep our clients safe, even if that meant keeping them safe from themselves. This definitely qualified as one of those times.
Whatever trouble Lacey could get into in that apartment, it couldn’t be as bad as what she’d get up to if I let her out.
It wouldn’t be long before I learned how very wrong I was about that.