CHAPTER NINE
About an hour later and with some food in her belly, Nova shifted in her seat as the black sedan eased to a stop in front of a warehouse she didn’t recognize.
She looked up at the nondescript brick building with high industrial windows and a wide bay door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years.
She had been to Silverman Petroleum headquarters before, and this definitely wasn’t it.
She leaned forward. “Harry. Where are we?”
Harry looked at her through the rear-view mirror. “This is the address Mr. Silverman asked me to bring you to.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Before Harry could respond, the large steel door to the warehouse creaked open, and a tall, older man in a navy suit and tan Panama hat stepped out.
On second look, Nova realized the man was Mr. Silverman, which only made her more confused. Why were they at a warehouse in the middle of nowhere?
As soon as Harry opened the door for her and she stepped out, Mr. Silverman smiled. “Ms. Hart!” he called out cheerfully, as if he were greeting an old friend, which, technically, he was. “I’m so glad you were available and could assist us.”
Nova smiled. “Mr. Silverman. It’s good to see you.” She took his hand as he offered it, and he patted hers warmly.
Mr. Silverman had always been kind and gracious, a throwback to the gentlemen of decades past—chivalrous, respectful, and full of Southern charm.
“Did you have issues getting here?” Mr. Silverman asked.
“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”
“Oh. I had just expected you about a half hour ago.”
Nova felt her cheeks warm.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Silverman. I skipped breakfast and was starving when I got off the plane. I asked Harry to stop at a deli on the way so I could grab a sandwich. I’m sorry if my delayed arrival has caused you any issues. I thought I had enough time.”
Mr. Silverman smiled. “No need to apologize, dear. I’m sure the others will understand.”
“Where are we?” she asked, glancing around the deserted lot and back to the looming warehouse behind him.
She noticed how his eyes darted away from her as he adjusted his hat with a nervous chuckle. “This warehouse belongs to me. It’s one of my older assets.”
Nova raised a brow. “Older assets?”
“It’s still functional,” he added quickly. “Just not in public use anymore. I thought this location would be more appropriate for the kind of conversation we need to have.”
His statement set off about five different alarm bells in her lawyer brain. Before she could press further, he motioned toward the door behind him.
“We should head inside. Everyone’s waiting.”
“Everyone?” she asked cautiously.
Mr. Silverman released a sigh. “You’ll see once we get inside.”
Nova’s professional instincts screamed “bad idea,” but Mr. Silverman had never given her reason to mistrust him. And technically, she was there on his dime. So, with one last wary glance at the warehouse, she nodded.
“Lead the way.”
As they stepped inside, Nova looked around. The space was cavernous and mostly empty, except for a long table in the middle of the room with a group of very large, male figures sitting around it.
The moment that the door clanked shut, all conversation amongst the mysterious group ceased, and heads turned in her direction. Every single man at the table locked their eyes on her as if she had suddenly turned into a Vegas showgirl wearing neon lights and some big feathery-looking hat.
“Well, this is not at all intimidating or creepy,” she murmured under her breath.
Her brain immediately launched into rapid-fire thoughts:
Why are they all looking at me like I’m a giraffe that wandered into a biker bar? And why do I feel like I’m about to get drafted into something I absolutely did not apply for?
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Silverman announced, “May I introduce Ms. Nova Hart, the attorney representing the law firm handling our acquisition review of Gulf Tide Ventures.”
Her eyes swept around the table. There were nine men in total, and all but one had their eyes locked on her. And it wasn’t a subtle glance, nor did it seem casual. It was the kind of collective stare that made her feel like she had just stepped onto a stage she hadn’t known she was auditioning for.
All of them had broad shoulders, hard expressions, and a mix of curiosity and calculation in their eyes. They definitely were not your everyday office guys.
Her pulse kicked up a notch as she resisted the urge to fidget, lifting her chin just slightly instead. If they expected her to shrink under the attention, they were about to be very disappointed.
Her gaze drifted toward the far end of the conference table, settling on the man who seemed completely engrossed in whatever was displayed on the tablet in front of him. His head was lowered, making it difficult to see his face. But the more she studied him, the more familiar he seemed.
Just then, the man lifted his head, and as soon as their eyes met, she felt a jolt of electricity hit her.
Of all the people she could have run into again, it had to be the gorgeous stranger from the plane—Mr. Sexy Blue Eyes.
And judging by the faint flicker of recognition that crossed his face, he remembered her too.
Ignoring the awkwardness in the room, she slowly turned back toward Mr. Silverman, her voice much tighter this time. “What’s going on? And who are these people?”
Mr. Silverman opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of a chair scraping against concrete as one of the men stood up.
He looked a bit older than the rest, though he was built just like the others. He carried himself with an air of authority as if he were the man in charge.
He stepped forward and extended his hand. “Ms. Hart, I’m Commander Derek Connors. United States Navy.”
Nova’s spine straightened instantly as she shook his hand. “Nova Hart, Corporate Counsel for Mr. Silverman.”
He gave her a knowing smile. “It’s good to meet you. I can see you have a lot of questions. Why don’t you have a seat? Then Mr. Silverman and I can walk you through what this is all about.”
Nova glanced back at Mr. Silverman, who was still wringing his hands like a man halfway into a confession. She then looked back at Commander Connors and nodded.
She chose the chair nearest the head of the table, and Mr. Silverman sat beside her. Commander Connors took the seat across from her.
She slid her backpack onto the floor, rested her hands on the table, and took a breath.
“So, what exactly is going on here?”
Mr. Silverman leaned forward first, clearing his throat. “Nova, first, I want to thank you again for coming. I know this is unconventional, and you’re probably wondering why I brought you to a place that looks more like a villain’s lair than a boardroom.”
“That’s one way to put it,” she muttered.
He smiled sheepishly and continued. “Officially, Silverman Petroleum is purchasing Gulf Tide Ventures. But there’s more.”
Nova’s brow arched. “More?”
Commander Connors spoke up. “Ms. Hart, before we go any further, I need your word that what is said in here doesn’t leave this room, as it does relate to national security.”
National security? Nova swallowed hard and nodded. “Of course, Commander. My client is present. So, I’m also bound by client-attorney privilege.”
Derek nodded, then continued. “Several government agencies are currently investigating a few incidents that have occurred in the Gulf. And they believe one of the rigs that Gulf Tide owns is connected in some way.”
“When you say connected, what does that mean?” she asked.
“That there could be some illegal activity happening out there that is tied to the accidents that have been happening in that sector. Right now, nobody knows exactly what they’re dealing with.
But enough red flags have surfaced that multiple agencies are suddenly very interested in Gulf Tide, specifically that rig. ”
“Illegal?” Her lawyer’s mind began to consider all the implications this could have for Silverman.
“That is what we are trying to find out.”
Nova looked between the commander and Silverman, trying to process the shift from a simple acquisition review to a potential national security threat. “So, you brought me here? I don’t work for the government, and last time I checked, I’m just a lawyer, not law enforcement.”
Mr. Silverman gave her a pointed look. “True. However, we do need an attorney to make this work. And your reputation speaks for itself. You have an eye for detail that most people don’t.
You catch things like small discrepancies, irregular patterns in contracts, inconsistencies that others overlook entirely.
You are also very trustworthy. That’s exactly what I, and,” he gestured toward the group of men, “they need.”
She placed her hand against her forehead for a moment, still trying to understand the situation. When she looked back up, all eyes were on her. Even Mr. Sexy Blue Eyes looked like he was scrutinizing her.
She looked at Commander Connors. “I have questions.”
Derek grinned. “I would imagine you do. And we’ll help answer them.”
“First, who are you guys?”
“I guess we probably should have started with that. We are all part of an elite unit.”
“Elite? Like security contractors?”
Derek’s lips quirked. “Not quite. We are all active-duty Navy SEALs.”
Nova’s eyes widened as they moved around the table again, this time with new awareness.
Well, she thought wryly, that explains why they look like a lineup for a military-themed GQ shoot meets survivalist calendar.
Nova then glanced between the Commander and Mr. Silverman, trying not to let her expression betray the absolute chaos of thoughts currently stampeding through her brain.
She felt like she had walked into a deleted scene from Mission: Impossible. The one where the lawyer was very much not supposed to be there.
“Let me introduce the rest of the team,” Derek said, and gestured toward the guy sitting on the other side of Mr. Silverman. “We’ll start with our team leader, Bear. Beside him is Jay Bird, followed by Duke, Joker, Playboy, Aussie, Nails, and Snow.”
So, Mr. Sexy Blue Eyes’ name was Snow.