TRAVIS TOLD ME that he’d arranged for my car to be taken back to the penthouse. I didn’t mind. With everything that had transpired, I would have a difficult time concentrating on driving. In his SUV, I settled against the passenger seat and tried to make sense of my afternoon. I couldn’t process the entirety: Parker at the warehouse, the Albinis… and then Brody. Parker was a dick—a pencil dick—but that wasn’t a revelation. The Albinis—a few days ago, I’d never heard the name. I’d never heard of Carlisle Albini. Now, we’d spoken. Though my knowledge level was only slightly elevated, I felt a surprising sense of calm. Then again, Brody didn’t. He was upset that I spoke with them. Why?
“Victoria,” Travis’ deep voice pulled me from the depths of my thoughts and questions. “The way you’ve handled the Albinis, I think Mr. Harrington would be proud. Honestly, I think he’d be shocked. I’m sorry to say, he probably underestimated you.”
You have no fucking idea. “I don’t think he’s the only one.”
Travis’ lips went together in a straight line, before he said, “He did care about you. I see how you would doubt that, but he did.”
I didn’t want to think about Stewart caring for me; nevertheless, I asked, “How do you know?”
“I know. He worked to keep your identity hidden from both sides. He believed that if Carlisle knew who you were that you’d be in danger.”
I turned toward Travis. “My mother had said the same thing, but I didn’t sense that. Did you? Just now?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I think Mr. Albini respects you.”
“Oh, God!” My stomach lurched as nausea struck with a vengeance.
“What?” Travis’ dark eyes flew my direction. “What’s the matter? Are you getting sick?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I had a thought. Oh, God, please, please Travis… please tell me that the Albinis aren’t friends.”
He reached over and placed his hand on my suddenly trembling knee. Feeling the warmth, I stared at the size as I waited for his answer. After a moment, he pulled it away. “Sorry, I remember: no touching, ever.” His lips morphed into a lopsided grin. “No, the Albinis weren’t among Stewart’s friends. I’m pretty sure they have plenty of women in their business. However, the more I see of them, the more I’m inclined to believe that they may be a few of the more honorable men in a world of filth. It’s no doubt why they’re the most successful.” He looked back toward me. “Nothing against you, but I’m not sure they would’ve wanted to be one of Stewart’s friends.”
“You did.” I wasn’t sure what made me say it, but once it was out I couldn’t bring it back.
Travis shrugged. “I’m not honorable.”
“I’m beginning to question that. A while ago, I would’ve agreed with you, but now I’m not too sure.” I turned toward him and studied his profile. His hard chin flexed as his jaw clenched. “You did it on purpose didn’t you?”
“What?” he asked.
“You were an ass to me. That day at the warehouse; you wanted me to know it was you.”
He forced a laugh. “Yes, because I’m into being bitten until I bleed, and kneed in the balls. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”
“No.” I shook my head, closed my eyes, and turned away. I remembered that day. I remembered his scent and his warm breath. I was so fucking scared. After that incident, it took a while for Stewart to invite his first friends; instead, Stewart spent more time and worked with me, encouraged me. That day also gave me a sense that even with what he was making me do, Stewart had my back. Maybe he did, but now I knew that Travis did too. Travis was always there, even today. “You knew I wasn’t ready. You did what you did: you purposely made sure I knew it was you. You did that so I’d have more time. You also wanted me to know that through all that shit, I was protected.”
Travis’ knuckles blanched as his grip assaulted the steering wheel. “You’re wrong. I wanted to fuck you. I’m the only fucking man who’s been at the warehouse who hasn’t had his cock inside of you. I was too energetic. I screwed up.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Travis turned his narrow dark gaze back toward me. “Are you calling me a fucking liar?”
Smugly, I nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“You’re wrong. I wanted to fuck you before and I still do. Maybe when we get to Craven and Knowles we should check out the legality of my contract.”
“You’re a liar and that’s not happening. If you really wanted it, Stewart would have caved. He would have let you.”
“Mrs. Harrington, you’re dead wrong.”
I grinned toward the window. “Victoria, asshole, my name is Victoria, and I’m not wrong. You’ve been a nice guy all along. Ha! Who knew?”
I glanced at the clock in the SUV as Travis parked outside of Craven and Knowles. It was nearly seven-thirty: almost five hours since I’d left Parker in the warehouse. As we approached the leaded glass doors to the ostentatiously large entry of the esteemed law firm, Trish sprang from behind her desk, her eyes wide as she rushed toward us. Opening the doors, she said, “Mrs. Harrington, I’m so glad you’re here.”
No doubt, the surprise at Trish’s gregarious greeting was evident on my face. Never once had she been as welcoming. “Trish.” I nodded.
“Mrs. Harrington, let me show you back to Mr. Craven’s office. You’ll see when you get there…” She added in a whisper, “He needs to go home. I’m afraid we’ll all be ill if he doesn’t.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Trish, if Mr. Craven is that sick, perhaps—”
Her long neck, visible with her dark hair twisted behind her head, moved from side to side. “No, he said he’s not leaving until he speaks with you…” She eyed Travis up and down. “…alone.”
I looked to Travis and back to Trish. “That’s fine. Mr. Daniels will wait outside. Shall we go to the conference room?”
“No, ma’am. Mr. Craven wanted me to bring you to his office.” I followed a step behind as she led us past the normal fish bowl and down a long hallway. As she did, I realized that I’d never been back to the partners’ offices. Only once had I been in Brody’s office; it was always better for us to meet away from the firm. After only one rap on the shiny wooden door, Trish opened it wide, revealing the grandeur of the senior partner’s private workspace.
The customary bookshelf lined with volumes of legal jargon filled one wall. Fleetingly, I wondered with today’s technology if that were truly necessary. Wouldn’t it be easier to do a computer search to locate a specific precedent than search through a wall of dusty journals? Two of the walls were floor-to-ceiling glass, looking out onto an impressive ocean view. It was in front of one of those spectacular windows where my eyes were suddenly drawn. I couldn’t look away from the man behind the desk. His normally olive complexion was pale and his face was covered with a sheen of sweat. More perspiration dripped from his temples, running down the length of his face and plunging from his quivering chin to the depths of his dampened shirt. Even his eyes were clouded with a veil of infirmity.
“My God, Parker, what’s happened to you?”
The clouds before his eyes parted, as a dark, menacing stare looked my direction. “Sit down, Mrs. Harrington. Trish, leave us.”
I turned toward Trish who looked at me with raised brows. I nodded, confirming her earlier concerns. Parker Craven was obviously ill.
When I looked back, Parker said, “I believe I told you earlier today to not make me repeat myself. Sit.”
I considered arguing. I’d spent the better part of the day standing, thanks to him, but seeing his pallor, I nodded and perched myself on the edge of a chair. When I did, he smiled sadistically, and asked, “Are you comfortable, Mrs. Harrington?”
“No, I’m not. Did you call me here to gloat?”
“Hardly. I called you here…” His words were interrupted by a hacking cough. “…I’ve received some troubling news. There are rumors that you have made the unfortunate decision to entertain…” More coughing. “…a business venture, which I feel would be better…” Coughs. “…discontinued.”
“If you’re talking about Travis—”
His fist pounded the desk as his other hand then went to the collar of his shirt, loosening the top button and his tie. Parker continued, “Don’t interrupt and don’t play dumb. You’ve been talking to Niccolo Albini.”
He again began to cough.
I waited. With my eyes open wide, I implored, “Parker, this can wait. You’re obviously ill. I hope it isn’t contagious. We’ll discuss it when you’re feeling better: maybe when we discuss the will. Right now, I’m Stewart’s wife and I’ll talk to anyone I want.”
He took a drink of water and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “You will not make any more promises or deals with the Albinis. With our new contract, I’m in charge of all of those decisions. To that end, unless you want your birthdate and all it implies made public, and believe me, you don’t, you’ll sign this power of attorney.”
More coughing. His chest convulsed as he hacked into the handkerchief. I grimaced at the red seeping through.
Shaking my head, I pursed my lips. “My goodness, you’re getting worse by the minute. Has anyone called Maura? She should take you home.”
“Victoria, the Albinis don’t know who you are. If they did—”
I stood. “You see, Parker, that’s where you and Stewart were mistaken. Carlisle, my father, and I had a nice little chat this afternoon at the hospital. Apparently, you were all misinformed. I don’t know what you or the Durantes think you know, but I’ll assure you, Carlisle Albini is an honorable man. His brother Niccolo has pledged his protection on me and my family. Carlisle has confirmed that. For the time being, I believe this discussion is over.”
Wearily, he shook his head. “No, you can’t do that. You can’t do any of that. You don’t have the power.” He again wiped the perspiration as it dripped near his eyes. “I have your contract.”
“Parker, you’re delusional. I’m afraid your fever is making you forget. I never signed a contract with you.” As I spoke he reached down near his feet to where I assumed he had his briefcase. “I haven’t seen you today until now. Harrington Spas and Suites will not be run by you. And very soon, I will be seeking legal representation elsewhere. Oh…” I added while he searched through the folder now open on his desk. “…and the warehouse is closed.”
“You can’t…” he choked.
“I can and I did.” I pulled my phone from my purse and found Maura Craven in my contacts.
Speaking into the phone, I said, “Maura, dear, hello. I’m sorry to bother you. But I came to your husband’s office to talk about Stewart’s will, and dear, your husband is sick. He’s being too much of a man to admit it, but I’m worried.”
I smiled toward Parker as Maura replied.
When she was done, I said, “Yes, we will need to have that lunch. I think you should come and get him. We don’t want him working himself to death, now do we?”
“Goodbye, dear.”
I disconnected the call and leaned closer, lowering my voice. “One more thing: I heard the most interesting thing on television the other day. They were saying that it’s not smart to try to turn wild animals into pets. They said it can be dangerous.” I tilted my head to the side and scanned his pathetic, shivering body. “Oh, that was just some random trivia I wanted to share. Unfortunately, I think it might be too late for you.
“I do want to thank you for calling me in here tonight. I would’ve hated to have missed this.” I pulled the generic Dom/sub contract from the folder and placed it on top. “You may want to shred this before Maura arrives. We don’t want her to know what a pencil dick she married.” I waved my fingers as I turned to leave. “This time, I’ll be the one running along. Goodbye, Parker.”