Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Sorry. The door was open. I knocked," Josh said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
She glared at him. She’d left her door open?
Had she not locked it? She'd been so stunned by the state of the apartment when she came in, so distracted.
Was it possible she'd simply not locked it behind her?
She always locked the door. Didn't she? Dammit, Tatum.
She couldn't afford to be careless, not now.
She bent down and started picking up the pieces of her mug. Joshua walked into the kitchen and grabbed paper towels to help her.
"What are you doing here, Joshua? What do you need?"
"Your mother asked me to stop by."
"Why?"
"She said she's tried to reach you, but you haven't answered your phone."
That was so like Bunny; not quite worried enough to check herself. Easier to just send a subordinate.
Pushing away his helping hand, Tatum stood and dumped the remnants of the mug into the garbage. She wasn't sure where her phone was at the moment. It was probably true she hadn't looked at it since coming back to the apartment last night.
"You can tell her I'm fine. Sorry, I just got busy and haven't picked up my phone today."
Josh snorted. "She's not gonna believe that."
"Well, it's the truth." She resisted the urge to call him an asshole to his face.
He was standing there looking around her apartment, eyes narrowed slightly.
"What?" she demanded.
"Your place. It's just so neat."
"Well—"
"It just looks a little more lived-in usually."
She glanced around. It did look sterile. Extremely tidy. And it was, just not because of her. But before she could formulate a response, her phone buzzed from somewhere in the living room. The coffee table, that's where she'd left it.
She was in the middle of dealing with Josh's unexpected intrusion and now this. She pressed her lips together, frustration simmering. Could she not get five minutes to think? To work? To just be without someone showing up, demanding answers, needing something from her?
She turned sharply toward the sound, leaving Josh standing in the kitchen. At least she now knew where her cell was. She glanced at the screen. Bunny. No way was she answering that call. She got a fresh mug and poured herself another coffee.
"Your mother is quite concerned."
"Bunny is always concerned, Joshua."
"Yes, but she's really quite concerned at the moment. She thinks you're spending too much time on this whole Ponzi scheme thing. She really wants you to give that up."
"I know what she wants, but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Even Mick Jagger knows you can’t always get what you want.”
He offered her a half-smile, but his eyes kept darting around the apartment.
Dammit, she had somehow transformed into a person suspicious of everything. The sooner Josh left her apartment, the happier she’d be. "Is there something else you wanted, Josh?"
"No, it's just, you know, I'm trying to keep the peace. Bunny can be a wee bit intense."
"She’s my mother. You don't have to tell me."
"Oh, honey, I understand. I'm just saying, perhaps you could hear her out—"
Biting back the urge to snap at him to not call her honey, she ground out, "Look, I've spent my entire life humoring Bunny. I'm sort of done. So…if there's nothing else—"
"You know, I don't think I've ever been out on your balcony," Josh said, crossing the room with one hand trailing along the back of her sofa.
Tatum sighed loudly. For fuck's sake. "Why do you care about my balcony, Josh?"
"It's a gorgeous day, darling. I would think you'd want to spend more time out here."
He wasn't wrong. It was a beautiful sunny day, just the right temperature. She loved early summer in New York. By August, the city got smelly, but now it was lovely.
She crossed the floor with her coffee and followed him out onto the terrace. It wasn't a balcony exactly. It was a terrace, with a table and chairs for eating and lounge chairs for everything else.
Josh walked over to the railing and looked down. "Oh my God, fantastic view," he said, pressing one hand to his chest.
"You don't have any outside space at your apartment?"
He snorted delicately. "You know how few apartments in Manhattan have outdoor space?"
"I guess I'm spoiled." She didn't bother adding that she'd worked her backside off for years to be able to buy this apartment, or that it had taken her another couple of years to drag it out of the seventies after buying it from an elderly couple who hadn't bothered updating it since they moved in.
Josh made a soft snort and rolled his eyes dramatically. It was the first time he'd been openly disdainful about it. She'd always known he resented her, probably because he thought she had everything. Maybe she should feel some sympathy for that. But he could have Bunny. He was welcome to her.
Tatum took a sip of coffee and, out of the corner of her eye, caught something. She glanced over. Smudges of dirt on the railing by the corner. That was where whoever broke in had come over the edge.
She killed the urge to walk over and inspect it because she didn't want to draw attention to it. Josh was prattling on about views in Manhattan, gesturing expansively, and then seemed to stop.
She glanced back at him. "I'm sorry, what?"
He started walking the length of the terrace, trailing his fingers along the railing. "I was saying, do you have any big plans for summer? Maybe take a real vacation so you can come back and work on a real case?"
Tatum gritted her teeth. The nerve of this man. Everything she did was real.
"I don't know, Josh. I haven't thought that far ahead."
He walked toward the end of the terrace where the scuff marks were. Tatum's stomach tightened. She wasn't sure Rush had gotten photographs of them, and she didn't want them disturbed. She didn't want to call attention to them either.
"What about you, Josh? Any big plans for summer?"
But he kept moving and ended up standing right next to the marks. He turned to face her and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the railing.
"I haven't thought about it yet. Your mother invited me out to the Hamptons. I was thinking several weeks in July."
"That might be nice," Tatum said, willing him away from the railing with every fiber of her being.
If Josh didn't realize that Bunny's "pick any week you want" meant "I'll let you know when you can come," he was never going to figure it out.
"Anyway," Josh said as he put his hands on the railing.
No. Tatum's pulse spiked. "Josh, don't—"
But he'd already touched it. He pulled his hands back immediately, staring at his palms with visible distaste. "Ugh. Do you have a paper towel?"
Her heart sank. The scuff marks, the one piece of evidence Rush might have been able to use, were now smudged beyond recognition. She forced herself to keep her face neutral. Internally, she wanted to scream.
"Let's go back inside," she said, her voice tight.
Archer took the stairs in her building rather than the elevator.
Force of habit, and he needed a moment to think.
By the time he reached her floor, he could hear voices through the door, which was not fully closed.
He was going to have to have a word with her about being careless.
He stood in the hallway for a moment and listened.
The other night, jeez, just last night, Tatum had clearly despised and equally clearly couldn't get rid of the man.
Archer had done his research on the people in Tatum's orbit the moment she became relevant to him, which was before she even knew he existed.
And Joshua Kent was one of the more interesting entries.
Ambitious. Resentful. Devoted to Margaret Wellington in a way that had very little to do with professional loyalty and quite a lot to do with proximity to power.
Not dangerous, exactly. But not harmless either.
The voices faded. He assumed they'd moved to the balcony. Josh had apparently demanded to see it. Archer slipped into the apartment and went down the hallway toward the bedroom. He wanted to make sure Tatum had closed the door to her secret room.
It took him a moment to find the panel. Quite ingenious.
He settled in her closet to wait for his moment.
Tatum followed Josh back through the sliding door, and Josh walked straight to the kitchen sink, washing his hands with elaborate thoroughness. Tatum grabbed a dish towel and handed it to him, keeping her breathing steady.
"Thank you," he said, patting his hands dry with delicate precision. Then he glanced down the hallway. "You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen your bedroom. I'm dying to see how you've decorated it."
Tatum's blood went cold.
The secret room. The door. She'd left it open.
"Josh—" she started, but he was already moving toward the hallway.
Shit. Shit. Shit. "Maybe some other time. I'd really rather you didn't go back there."
"What’s the harm? We're almost siblings anyway."
"We’re not siblings, Josh." Most definitely not. She didn't even like this man.
"Oh, don't be so silly. Of course we are. You should come over to my place anytime. I'd just love to see your bedroom. Your mother says—"
"Josh." Tatum's voice cut across his. "I really don't want you going into my bedroom."
"What's the harm?" he said, moving toward the hallway.
Tatum rushed past him, blocking his path. "Seriously, Josh, there's no need to—"
Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her waist.
The shock of it made her breath catch. Warm. Solid. Possessive. She felt the heat of him along her back before her brain caught up with what was happening. His cologne told her exactly who it was before she'd even processed it.
Josh's face went slack with surprise.
"Hello, Joshua." Archer Gray's voice rumbled low and intimate, like he'd just rolled out of bed with her.
"Archer. Mr. Gray. I didn't realize—" His voice broke off.
"Realize what?" Archer's eyebrow cocked.
Tatum was staring at Archer. When had he gotten here? And how did people keep walking into her apartment without her knowing?