Chapter One
Charlotte Nichols
Charlotte Nichols sipped her getting-cold coffee and sighed. Normally, the noise of the coffee shop in the financial district—her makeshift office—cheered her up. Today, it was just distracting. A dark-haired man in a suit smiled at her. “Is this seat taken?”
Startled, she smiled back. “Yes, I mean, no, it’s not taken. Yes, you can sit there.” Was he hitting on her?
But no, he just wanted the chair, which he dragged away to another table. She shook away her disappointment. Was she getting so desperate she hoped some strange businessman would hit on her? That was pretty sad, especially as she didn’t even want a date. It would just feel nice to know someone thought she’d be worth asking.
Charlotte refocused on her list. Josephine’s Coffee was Charlotte’s favorite coffee shop because it was full of loud and brash business people and they were all working: having meetings, taking phone calls, tapping away on laptops. She didn’t come here to meet people; she came here to work. She just liked feeling she was in the middle of things, a part of the city’s business district and at the heart of the hive of industry. It also meant she didn’t feel guilty talking on the phone at the coffee shop, because everyone was doing it.
She dialed the next number on her list. As she started speaking, she pasted a smile on her face, hopeful it’d come through in her voice. She had started her own company last month and so far, she’d failed to drum up enough business to keep afloat. “Hello, I’d like to speak to your CEO or maybe someone in the human resources department. No, I’m not looking for a job. I’m a private investigator and I’m phoning to let you know about my services. Right, yes. Can I send you a brochure? I’ll do that then. Thanks.”
Charlotte grit her teeth. She was late on her parent’s mortgage payments and two months late on her rent. But she was not going to give up. She’d take a second job if she had to, to make ends meet, but she was going to make this work.
Her iPhone vibrated against the table. “Nichols Investigations, This Is Charlotte... oh, hi, Mom.”
“You don’t sound so thrilled to hear from me!”
“Sorry, Mom, I was just hoping you were a customer.” She instantly regretted giving her mother an opening to talk about the job. She held the phone away from her ear as the lecture started: Charlotte worked too hard and didn’t keep herself up. She should be spending her time finding a nice man. She wasn’t getting any younger! Her mother had worked as a television presenter but quit when she got married, and since then her life revolved around her husband. Charlotte loved her mother but she didn’t want to be her. Her dad taught her she could be anything or do anything but her mom still thought her best prospects were to get married and become a housewife. Finally, though, she seemed to be running out of steam.
“Mom, did you really just call me to complain about my lack of dates?” A woman at the table looked up from her laptop and grinned at Charlotte in solidarity, which cheered Charlotte immensely.
“It’s just dinner tonight. Your father’s had a rough night, he couldn’t sleep, which means I’ve not had any sleep either. Can we make it another time?”
“Sure.” She’d have to pick up some food on the way home. Charlotte frowned. Maybe her mother had a point, seeing as Charlotte’s social life involved her parents more than anyone else. But at least it would give her a chance to write up a report for the one client she currently had.
Once she got her mother off the phone, she went back to cold-calling. This time, she tried getting the receptionist to help her instead of trying to bluff her way through to the right person. ”I offer private investigation services and I would like to offer my services to your company. Do you know who I should be speaking to? Maybe your CEO would be interested in my services?”
It was no use. After seventeen polite no-thank-yous and two rude ones, she packed her list away. Her coffee was completely cold now, just a prop so she could keep her table. She would try again tomorrow to see who she could get through to. And if she didn’t get any new work by the end of the week, she’d give up and get a job.
She was a good investigator—every client she’d had was happy with her work and the results. Even Mr. Mackaw, who shouldn’t be. Mr. Mackaw had hired her to catch his wife “in flagrante” as he put it. It was a job straight out of Hollywood: follow Mrs. Mackaw without getting caught and take photographs of her with her lover, so Mr. Mackaw would have proof. The thing was, Charlotte didn’t think Mrs. Mackaw was having an affair. The woman spent a lot of time out of the house, sure, but she was taking long walks through the park and doing shopping. She just seemed to want out of the house. Certainly, there’d been no sign of another man. And the old Charlotte would have told Mr. Mackaw that and closed the file. But Mr. Mackaw had insisted Mrs. Mackaw was seeing someone secretly and said he would pay by the hour. Charlotte pushed down the niggling feeling she was wasting his time and money. In business, you had to be ruthless, didn’t you? He could call her off if he wanted to but for now, she’d keep doing the job he was paying her to do. Besides, she could be wrong. Charlotte rubbed the raw spot on her wrist where she’d had the tattoo. It was small and not easily noticed: a gothic letter R on her inner wrist, to remind her of her vow to be ruthless. Because that’s what it took to get ahead, she’d decided. The people in this coffee shop didn’t get to where they were by being meek and accepting and giving up. They got there by taking the bull by the horns and doing what needed to be done. And that was what Charlotte was going to do, too.
The table next to her cleared in a flurry of handshakes. She glanced over to see an abandoned newspaper and picked it up for the headlines. On the cover was a photograph of Jordan Lovett, most eligible bachelor, who had recently taken over as CEO of Lovett Industries when his father retired. He had a half-smile on his face, as if he found it all very amusing. His eyes were dark and brooding, though, full of secrets. Was that his personality or just a good portrait photographer? He was good looking, she thought grudgingly, but sure to be a complete jerk and selfish, just like his father.
According to the article, the company was planning to go public. “We’re always expanding,” said young Jordan. “This is an opportunity for investors to get in on the ground floor.”
She dropped the newspaper angrily. Jordan Lovett was the son of her father’s ex-best friend and cheating business partner who had forced Dad out of his own business ten years ago. It broke him: everything her father had worked for all his life was gone. When she was a teenager, she dreamed of confronting Mr. George Lovett, asking why he stole the company from her dad. His name came up a lot, especially when her dad got drunk and melancholy. Once, he’d let slip that he was pretty sure George had illegal inside information but he couldn’t prove it.
Dad’s partner had been ruthless. That’s what Charlotte needed to be right now, ruthless. She sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t something which came naturally to her, but that’s what it took to succeed in business.
She furrowed her brow as a new thought came to her. What if she actually investigated Lovett Industries?
She tapped her pen against the side of the coffee table, still looking at Jordan Lovett’s photograph. If she could prove his father had broken the law, then maybe she could make the company pay out. They were about to go public, any whiff of a scandal would be a big deal. At the very least, she could stop George Lovett’s upgrade from billionaire to zillionaire. In a perfect world, she could make him lose everything, just like her father had.
She picked up her phone and then put it down again. It was no good offering her services to them. She needed to get inside access, not just offer her services. What she needed to do...
A smile crossed her face as the plan began to form. If they were always expanding, they needed staff. She would apply for a job there, any old job, and get on the inside. That would get her enough money to pay the rent but she wouldn’t be giving up. It would just be a temporary thing while she worked on the most important investigation of her life.