****
Rachel could feel the headache gathering at her temples as the slight buzz she had worked up began to fade. She looked at James Whitley closely, trying to decide if it was even worth the effort of thinking anymore. “I understand why you feel manipulated,” James said, returning her regard without a trace of concern. “But I need you to understand where I’m coming from too, Rachel.”
“What I understand is that you could have easily given me some kind of note before I started getting stalked by people,” Rachel said. “I mean, I really appreciate being a millionaire and all, but a simple, ‘Hey, Rach, so there’s this guy who’s going to come after you—I’m sending help, but you might want to vacate your apartment and uproot your entire life right about now’ would have been nice.”
“I’ve been trying to evade him too,” James pointed out. “In case you haven’t noticed, Rachel, you and I have the distinction of swapping places as first on Jeffrey’s list to be eliminated depending on what day it is.”
“Okay,” Rachel said, standing unsteadily. She walked across the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets to retrieve a bottle of water. “Would you like one?” She asked, reaching for another bottle before James replied.
“Thank you.” Rachel returned to the table, handing James his bottle and opening her own before she sat down once more, heavily.
“I’m going to need you to explain exactly what the hell is going on to me,” she said, taking a long sip from the bottle. “Because honestly at this point the whole mess is as clear as mud to me.”
“Jeffrey has been trying to get control of the company for years,” James said, cracking the seal on his own bottle. “Before I was put in charge, his father ran Vantech Incorporated, and Jeffrey thought it was his just desserts to inherit the position.”
“I can see that,” Rachel said, taking another long pull from her bottle. Her impending hangover was not dissipating fast enough. “Where exactly do I come into this?”
“That is a bit complicated,” James told her, a faint smile curving his lips. He drank from his bottle of water and seemed to think for a long moment, spinning the cap on the tabletop. “When I came into my position as CEO of Vantech, Jeff became involved with another company; at first, we were all relieved—it seemed like he had decided to take his ‘loss’ gracefully.”
“Who do you mean by ‘we’? The shareholders?” The ghost of a smile crossed James’ face once more.
“The family; Jeffrey is my step-brother.” Rachel’s eyes widened. You bet your sweet ass it’s complicated, she thought. “In any case, the company he was involved with is the one that he’s trying to get Vantech to merge with now; if he succeeds, then he’ll have as close to a monopoly in our industry as the government will allow. And he would use the merger as a way to boot me and take over his father’s company for good.” Rachel absorbed that for a moment. She could see why James would want to avoid the merger; it would remove him from power.
“So you send me the money meant for the merger, I get that. But why does he have to come after me? If he’s in charge of the company now with you ousted…”
“He will have to take legal action to make it permanent,” James said. “There is a will involved—complicated estate issues and lawyers’ problems, ultimately. He’s only in power as long as I’m alive and able to defend myself. And from what you told me before of his explanation to you, he’s telling the truth about one of his motives: while you’re in possession of the money, his position is bad indeed.”
“How would killing me fix that?”
“If he kills you, there won’t be anyone in a position to dispute his claim that the money was transferred in error—and he could get it back with a minimum of fuss from the bank. The people running Vantech other than myself have no real interest in me as a person; they’re interested in results. If Jeff gets results, they have no reason to back me in the courts.” Rachel drained her bottle, shaking her head.
“Things just get better and better, don’t they?” she sighed. “So, what do I do?”
“You stay out of his clutches, and give me time to get everything the way it should be.”
“How exactly does that benefit me? Brock offered me five million to give back the money you gave me.” James laughed.
“He would have had you killed the moment the transfer was complete,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I know my step-brother very well.”
“How do I know I can even trust you?”
“I don’t seem to have given you many reasons, have I?” James chuckled. “How about this: I have a contract at the hotel I’m staying at in this area. It is absolutely legally binding and states that in return for assisting me, you will receive an additional five million dollars.”
Before Rachel could respond to the offer, there was a knock at the door. She jumped, nearly tumbling out of her chair. “Shit, shit, he found me,” she said. James shook his head.
“Not just yet, I think. That will be Dylan.”
“Dylan?” Rachel stared at the man across from her at the table in disbelief.
“I’m going to have to cut his pay, I think; I managed to find you before he did.” James shook his head and stood, walking to the door.
“Do I get to have any control or say over anything that happens in my life anymore?” Rachel asked, directing the question to the ceiling.
“Welcome to the life of wealth and prestige,” James said wryly from behind her. Rachel heard the door open.
“They’ll be here soon, I think,” Dylan said, and Rachel deliberately kept her eyes in front of her. She didn’t want to see him; even if the effort in his voice implied that he was struggling in some way.
“Were you followed?” James asked. “I see they caught up with you at some point at least.”
“Cracked rib, not much of a thing; I don’t think they could get their hands on legal guns, felt like a bean bag.” Rachel felt her stomach lurch—Dylan had a cracked rib? She turned her head almost involuntarily and watched as he approached the table in a slow, slightly staggering walk, with little of his usual upright cockiness. “Hello, Love,” Dylan said, smiling. “You learned well from me, picking an out-of-the-way place like this.”