4. Accounting Change
Accounting Change
Sara
Peter keeps up a conversation that I choose not to participate in. It doesn’t seem to bother him. Maybe his daughter does the same thing. That gets me to thinking about why the handle is backward on that door.
What if I’m not the first woman Peter’s trapped here? Didn’t he mention scars?
What kind of man takes women in the first place? Probably the kind of man I want to stay far away from. Not that I have a choice.
I pick at the main course. It looks lovely and smells divine. Chicken with herbs in a brown sauce. Roasted vegetables beside it. They even poured a fresh glass of white wine to accompany it.
I want to dig in but I’m conflicted. On the one hand, I’ll need all the energy I can get to get out of this. On the other hand, what if it’s drugged? What if he’s just waiting for me to eat it so he can do whatever wicked thing he has planned?
Being kidnapped is hard work and mentally tasking.
Sighing, I lift my gaze to Peter’s.
“Are you a vegetarian, Ms. Morris?” He arches his eyebrow as he pointedly looks at my untouched meal.
“No. Just determining whether you’re the type of man to drug my food.” I watch him closely, looking for any sign that he is.
He chuckles and takes a drink of his wine. “If you’d like, I can take a bite of yours. Or we could trade plates.”
He’s been eating on his. Maybe if I let him see that I’m trusting him, he’ll trust me. And that’s how I’ll get out of this. Earn his trust.
I spear a bite of carrot and put it in my mouth. Oh fuck, that’s good.
Peter smiles. “It’s one of my favorite meals. I always have the cook make it when I’m here.”
“Do you come here often?” I take another bite. This time a parsnip, tender but crisp. It practically melts in my mouth. Eyeing the door that the plates came through, I realize I’m going to have to steal his cook.
“Not particularly.” He glances around the luxurious but austere room. “I prefer my city loft, but I liked to bring Natasha out here while she was growing up. This house has some good memories.”
I pause in filling my mouth with the tasty food. “But sometimes it left scars?”
His eyes light with amusement and he drinks some wine, sitting back in his chair with his glass between his fingers. “Is it story time, Ms. Morris?”
I shrug and cut into the chicken. “I’m a captive audience.”
His laughter fills the room. It’s a little jarring. I’m amusing my captor, but I need time to figure out how to escape.
“You and Natasha would be thick as thieves.” He shakes his head and lifts his chin, running his finger across a white line on his tan skin. “A present from a previous captive. She didn’t particularly care for my methods at the time, but I’ve grown complacent in my old age and must be more careful.”
“You can’t be more than forty.” I narrow my eyes. He’s older and there are grays in his black hair, but his skin is almost flawlessly smooth.
“You flatter me, Ms. Morris.” He sets his wineglass down. “I’m afraid I’m closer to fifty.”
Which would make sense if he has a daughter my age. He would have still been a young man when she was born.
“Tell me about Natasha.” I take a sip of the white wine before me. It’s crisp and light.
He smiles and his eyes sparkle. “She’s so much like her mother. A wild one. Untamed. Forever fighting the chains of her birth.”
“I can understand that. It’s hard to be a socialite.” I never drop my gaze from his face.
“Yes.” He lifts his napkin to the corners of his lips. It’s a wary answer, which means he isn’t telling me everything.
“You said she runs away?” I take a careful bite of food.
He releases a breath. “Yes, she’s very much like your Tom in that respect. Dreamers who have to wander when life gets to be too much.”
“Do you know my brother well?” I arch an eyebrow because I don’t know this man.
He said he’s a client of Tom’s but that doesn’t mean much.
As outside accountants you rarely interact with the actual owners of businesses unless they are fully engaged.
Generally, you’re passed off to the company’s chief financial officer.
“He spent some time helping us with a few issues with our accounting system.” Peter smiles. “You remind me of him.”
I touch my hair. “We both got the red hair. It definitely makes us stand out.”
“Not just your coloring. The way you think. The way you question. Your curiosity. Very similar.” He wipes his hands and puts his napkin across his plate. “You’ll excuse me, Ms. Morris, but I need to attend to a meeting. Please enjoy dessert. My associate will escort you back to your room.”
Ah, Lurch. I don’t say anything as Peter walks across the room and out the door. Lurch closes the distance to stand behind my chair. I’ve completely lost my appetite, but I’m not going back until I’ve taken in everything.
I eat slowly while checking out the trim and the windows that look out over a rolling green lawn lit with concealed lights. Escaping at night would probably be impossible.
As I eat the chicken, the serving staff claims my focus. There are two standing at each door. They wear black pants and black vests over white buttoned shirts with a black tie. Doesn’t matter if they are male or female, the uniform is the same.
Another server comes into the dining room through the door that must lead to the kitchen. That’s the woman who took away Peter’s empty plate. She stands next to the wall as if she can become one with the woodwork. But her gaze keeps dropping to my plate.
The meal is delicious but I can’t eat another bite. And he said there would be dessert.
I set my fork and knife in position to indicate I’m finished and dab at my mouth before lifting my wineglass to take a sip.
The woman comes forward and takes my plate with a polite bow before turning away. I pay close attention to her pockets, trying to determine whether she has a cell phone on her.
I blow out a breath as she disappears with my plate and another server emerges with something dripping in chocolate and caramel. When he sets it in front of me, I drop my napkin on the floor.
“Oops.” I look at it like it’s lost.
When the server bends down, I quickly check out his pockets for anything that could potentially help me out of this. He straightens and holds out my napkin with a pressed-lip look. No one looks at me as more than an object they have to deal with.
Sighing, I say, “Thank you.”
I used to steal Tom’s phone all the time from his pocket. It’s one thing I can do well and might actually help me out of this situation.
My attention goes to the chocolate masterpiece in front of me. My stomach churns at the thought of eating more, but I can’t stop myself from trying a few bites. And it’s as decadent as I imagined.
At least I have a polite kidnapper. I chuckle to myself and notice one of the door guys glance my way. He’s an older gentleman who looks like he’d rather die than have a button out of place. But there’s something soft about his brown eyes. His lips tug down in a frown before he corrects himself.
Maybe I might have found a friend after all. I take another bite and then drape my napkin beside my plate and stand.
I hold my arm out to Lurch. “Shall we?”
* * *
Wyatt
Verity folded and gave us her uncle’s information. Her Uncle Gideon is fond of Natasha and lets her abscond with his yacht for her adventures, figuring she’ll be safer on his yacht than traveling around Europe with a backpack, which she apparently did when she was eighteen.
She keeps it from her father. He doesn’t know about the yacht.
As we left, Verity reminded me to lose her number. It was highly satisfying to tell her I already blocked it. She huffed, but she’s not coming at Sara through me. After this morning, she’s not coming after any of us if she wants to remain queen bee.
“We should stop at my club.” Drew glances at his phone again.
“What are you hiding?” I take him in.
He’s been watching his phone like a hawk. Sure, he has feelers out about Tom and Sara, but I noticed earlier when he seemed more secretive about his phone. The worry that creased his brow. The way he checked to see if I was watching him.
Drew smirks and leans back. “I’m an open book, my fuck buddy.”
He uses that to annoy me and get me off topic. It won’t work this time. This might be something that could potentially hurt Sara. I need to know.
“Besides, you’re the one holding back.” Drew turns and gives me a serious look. “I don’t know what kept you from pursuing Sara. Maybe it’s your love for her brother, but the fact you’d be willing to walk away from her doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s complicated and not something I need to discuss with you.” I run a hand through my hair. “But you’ve already claimed to be all in. I’m protective of her, even if she can’t be mine. So if you’ve got something else going on that’s going to hurt her, that’s one hundred percent my business.”
“Do you not see how much you hurt her?” Drew sounds amazed and dumbfounded. “How you cut into her and leave her bleeding?”
I glance down at the mats on the floorboard of the car. “Trust me. It’s better that she bleeds a little now than deal with what I’ve done.”
“Please tell me you did not fuck that bitch we just left.” Drew recoils.
“No. I wish that was it.” I look out the window. That would be easier to come back from. If Tom knew what I’ve done with his sister, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell her about that day. It may not have been my hands that did the deed, but I’m to blame. I’m just lucky Tom didn’t cut me out of his life.
The car pulls into the alleyway behind Drew’s club.
“It seems we both have secrets.” Drew cocks his head. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.”
My breath catches and my eyes narrow on him. Give him ammunition to turn Sara against me forever? Not happening.
“How much do you pay Sebastian Cross to keep your secret?” I meet his brown eyes and see the wince. “You know, it just takes money to find out anything. What do you think I’d be willing to pay to guarantee Sara’s happiness?”
Drew shakes his head. “Apparently not enough if you won’t even consider staying with her.”