High Stakes by Fern Michaels (8)

The Ferrari growled its way to the curb and stopped.

“You sure you can handle this, Toby? You seem a little too jittery to me. I need you to calm down. Like now. Take deep breaths. The girls are already inside, so they have your back. Keep your eyes on them and follow their cues if they offer any up. Nothing is going to happen in a public place like this. Watch Pilar’s eyes. No matter how hard you try, your eyes always give you away. I know you’re smart, Toby, but you’re out of your league here. The girls and I know how to play this, so don’t try anything on your own. We talked about this on the way over here. You are not going to be all gushy mushy with Pilar. That was all okay last night. Today it’s a different story. This morning your feet are firmly on the ground. Yes, you are in love. Yes to all the stuff you spouted last night to the housemother. Today, with your boss, you’re just happy and willing to share your happiness with Pilar, your boss. You got it?”

“I got it. I am jittery. Once I’m inside, I’ll be okay. Oh, am I supposed to know the girls inside?”

“Yes. I introduced you to them a few days ago. My friends. You don’t have any background, just that they’re my friends and fellow grad students on lunch break. Don’t volunteer anything. Like I said, just react to their cues. Before this is over, you’ll be as suave and debonair as Sean Connery. You know, the original James Bond character. Think of it as a plus on your résumé next time you send one out.”

“I don’t send out résumés. They come to me,” Toby said through clenched teeth. Like he could even come close to Sean Connery. Not even within a mile. He sighed and turned to open the door.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mia said.

“No. What?”

“You’re supposed to get me in a lip-lock. A little squeeze here or there. I need to see some sparkle in those baby blues of yours. You’re supposed to be in love, remember? People are watching. It might be this fancy car, but they also want to see who is in this fancy car. For all I know, your boss already passed us and is inside or is watching from someplace. You’re an actor, so, damn it, start acting.”

Toby felt his eyes narrow. She wanted acting. Well, then, he’d give her a first-class performance worthy of Sean Connery. Before Mia could draw a breath, Toby had her in a clinch as he smashed his lips against hers. He knocked off her pearly-white Stetson as his fist grabbed hair that smelled like lilacs, forcing her even closer to him. He swore later that he could feel the beat of her heart, or maybe it was his heart, or then again, maybe it was both their hearts. Sean Connery, eat your heart out.

And then he was outside the low-slung sports car, leaning in the window, a wicked grin on his face. He thought his heart was going to explode right out of his chest, but somehow he kept his cool. “I’ll be available for an encore in about ninety minutes, if you think you can handle it. See you, sweet cheeks!”

For the first time in her young life, Mia Grande was left totally and completely speechless. “Uh-huh,” was the best she could manage before she clamped the Stetson on her head and peeled away from the curb to head toward the Georgetown campus. “Uh-huh.”

* * *

Toby entered the Dog and Duck on trembling legs. Inside, it was neither dark nor light, just dim, with music blaring from somewhere. Toby tried to remember if he’d ever been here before, but nothing came to him. Probably, was his best guess, or someplace that looked just like this one. It was, after all, a sports bar of sorts, with television screens on every available wall. Wall-to-wall people, waitresses and busboys scurrying back and forth with platters of fast food, mostly finger food, held high to allow them to maneuver through the crowds. The noise level was deafening. He could feel a headache coming on. He looked around. How the hell was he supposed to find Mia’s operatives and Pilar in this mass of humanity?

Toby looked down at the phone clutched in his hand. He felt the vibration and looked at the incoming text:

There was no signature. He jammed the phone in his pocket as he pushed and shoved and elbowed his way to the back of the room, where there were six booths and five tables. He saw Pilar immediately, taking up a table for four. He had to wonder how much that table cost her.

“Right on time.” Pilar smiled up at him. “I took the liberty of ordering for us. You might want to think about wiping that lipstick off your cheek, honey.”

Toby hated it when she called him honey. He flushed a bright crimson as he reached for the tissue Pilar was holding out to him. Then he remembered his instructions. He shrugged and grinned, just as Mia’s friends erupted in a loud greeting. He turned and bolted from the table to the booth to be hugged and squeezed. Eat your heart out again, Sean Connery.

Five minutes of playful, happy banter followed before Toby turned to Pilar and said, “I’d like to introduce you to Mia’s friends, but I can’t remember their names. So, girls, this is my boss, Pilar Sanders. Pilar, meet . . .”

One by one, the giggling girls introduced themselves. The last young woman, who introduced herself as Mandy Lee, looked at Pilar and brazenly asked if she was a cougar.

Pilar laughed, but it was a forced sound. “Sorry, no. I’m happily married to a wonderful man.” She waved her left hand to make her point, at which point people started pointing at all the televisions on the walls and yelling for quiet. The room went totally silent.

Toby looked up and almost blacked out when he saw Dennis and his fellow reporters standing next to two elderly ladies. What the hell . . . ? He looked over at Pilar, who was reading an incoming text, her eyes wide and disbelieving at what she was seeing. The thought that entered his mind was that whatever she was reading was good news, and she was delighted. But whatever it was she was reading couldn’t possibly be as interesting as what was playing out on the big-screen television sets. He watched, his jaw dropping, as someone named Countess Anna de Silva welcomed what looked to him like several hundred veterans holding up placards and pointing to the large building behind where they were patiently lined up. Doctors in white jackets and with stethoscopes around their necks stood next to a group of nurses in white, who were smiling into the cameras.

The young woman named Mandy looked at Toby’s puzzled expression and hissed, “You do know who Countess de Silva is, right? If she isn’t the richest woman in the world, then she is the second richest, after that lady standing next to her, Myra Rutledge. Those ladies have taken on the current administration and the VA to get our veterans the help they need. It’s been all over the news for the past month. This is the result.”

Toby frowned. He knew he was missing something here. He also knew that Mandy was trying to tell him something, but he was too dense to figure it out.

“I wish my boyfriend, Avery Snowden, was here,” Mandy said. “He donates all his free time to VA centers.”

Toby nodded. He finally got it. It was all falling into place for him now. He stepped back from the edge of the rabbit hole and fixed his gaze on Pilar, who finally started to pay attention to what was happening on the screens all around her.

Pilar eyeballed Toby and smiled. She waved away what was playing out on the giant screens, which meant “Let’s get down to business.” The group of young women made their way back to their own table, still watching the TV screens. “So, tell me your good news.”

Toby forced a grin that he didn’t feel. “I think I found my soul mate. I can only hope she feels the same way. I guess Martha told you, huh?”

“Well, yes. That’s her job as housemother. She told me how deliriously happy you were last night, when you got home. Now, I don’t want to seem like one of those helicopter mothers, but this happened so quick, Toby, so naturally I’m a little concerned. What do you really know about the young lady, honey?”

“All I need to know. I love her sense of humor. She’s kind, caring, and she loves animals. She does a lot of volunteer work for the elderly. She comes from Brazil. Actually, she’s an heiress to a fortune derived from some kind of hot sauce her family makes. She told me she has a trust fund that will never run out. Whatever that means. She’s going for her MBA at Georgetown and carries a four-point-oh GPA. It’s not the money. She didn’t even tell me that until last night, because she was afraid it would scare me away. She wants to be loved for herself, not her money. I don’t care either way. She wants her parents to come here to meet me. We plan to Skype tonight so she can introduce me to them. She’s in class right now but is picking me up after our lunch is over. I’ll introduce you to her.” Breathlessly, Toby picked up a crispy wonton and popped it into his mouth. He hoped he didn’t choke on it.

“What does this mean in regard to your job, Toby? Are you planning on leaving us? You wouldn’t bail out on me this close to the end of the year, would you?” Pilar’s tone of voice clearly warned him he better not even be thinking about it.

“Of course not. Mia is fine with what I do. She says she likes that I can express myself onstage. Nothing is going to change, at least for now. When she finishes up her studies in the spring, it might be a different story. For now, it’s the status quo. Don’t tell me you’re worried about me. Oh, there is one thing. She wants a ringside table the nights I dance. I said no problem. That won’t be a problem, will it, Pilar?” Toby asked, a definite edge to his voice. “A whole table for six so she can have her friends with her.”

“Of course that’s not a problem. For now. However, I’m calling a meeting tonight, before the first performance. An offer has come to us from Hong Kong that I want to discuss with my lead dancers. A very lucrative offer, I might add. So, Toby, tell me more about your new love,” Pilar said as she broke an egg roll in two, one that she never bothered to eat.

They talked for another half hour, until one of the operatives in the booth gave him a nod and held up her cell phone. Mia was waiting out front. Time to go.

Toby looked up to see the girls sliding out of their booth. Then he looked up at the TV screens in time to see a dog named Gizmo offer up a snappy salute to the veterans making their way into the new clinic. He took a moment to wonder if the amazing dog could fold towels. His phone buzzed.

“My ride is here, Pilar. Gotta go. What time is the meeting?”

“Seven o’clock in the second-floor conference room at Supper Club One. You cannot bring your girlfriend. Understood?”

“Understood,” Toby said.

“You did say you were going to introduce me to your new love. Let’s do it, honey. I can’t wait to meet her.” Pilar laid some bills on the table, then set a bottle of hot sauce on top. She blinked when she read the label. GRANDE HOT SAUCE. If she weren’t in such a hurry, she might have noticed that the Grande label had been affixed over a Pico Pica label.

Outside, the day had turned gray and blustery, leaves swirling in all directions as Pilar focused on the candy apple–red Ferrari whose engine was purring at the curb. She felt Toby’s hand on her elbow as he guided her to the curb and the purring Ferrari. The window slid down.

He leaned in and said, “Mia, come around. I want you to meet my boss.”

Fascinated, Pilar watched as the young woman slid out of the car, adjusted the pearly-white Stetson she was wearing, and walked around the front of the car. She stepped up onto the curb, a huge smile on her face. Pilar took it in all at once, the Stetson, the beautiful smile, the perfect teeth, the wealth of gorgeous hair. The designer jacket, the long legs encased in black tights with a miniskirt and, of course, the cowboy boots. She felt a flash of envy and sadness all at the same time. She would kill to be this young woman, even without the trust fund. When the woman moved closer, she caught the wink of light from her earrings. Three carats each at least. Hidden by her hair. Understated. As were her nails. French manicure. Pilar was aware of her own bloodred talons, which suddenly looked tacky to her eye.

“How nice to finally meet you, Ms. Sanders. Toby has told me so much about you. Not to worry. It was all very flattering.”

“Then you have the upper hand on me, Miss Grande. I just found out about you. I don’t want you stealing my prize dancer away from me now, you hear?” Pilar teased in a light voice.

Mia smiled, her teeth glistening on this gloomy day. “It won’t happen. My little sweetie here is very loyal.”

Pilar worked her tongue over her own veneers and felt cheated. “I am so glad to meet you. I would have been terribly offended if my prize here, meaning Toby, didn’t see fit to introduce us. I try to be a stand-in mother to the boys. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. This time, it did. I’m sorry, but I have to cut this short. I have a meeting I need to get to, and I’m already running late. I’ll see you tonight, Toby. Please don’t be late. Again, nice meeting you, Mia.”

Her body ramrod straight in her Jimmy Choo shoes, which couldn’t hold a candle to Mia’s cowboy boots, Pilar walked away to the parking lot and her four-door Mercedes sedan. Suddenly, she hated the high-end, family-looking car. Compared to the candy apple–red Ferrari, the Mercedes was a Volkswagen Beetle. Right now, right this minute, all she wanted was a pair of cowboy boots. For a moment, she was tempted to call a cab so as not to be seen in this drab black vehicle, but in the end she opened the door and climbed behind the wheel. She sat for five minutes as she let her thoughts go from Toby and Mia to the text that had come through earlier from Carlie Fisher, the club’s business manager. She wondered if Carlie had sent the same message to Gabe. Evidently not, or Gabe would have called her by now.

What did it all mean?

* * *

Jack clicked the remote, and the room turned silent. Everyone looked at everyone else in disbelief. “Charles, did you know about all of that?” Jack said, pointing to the overhead screen.

“Not really. I knew they were working on it from the day Maggie, Ted, Espinosa, and Dennis left to start the series. I guess being as smart as the two of them are, they knew this would be the outcome, and they went at it. The truth is, Fergus and I have seen very little of our lovely ladies, and they did not see fit to confide in us. I just didn’t . . . I had no idea they’d accomplished all of what we just saw. Having said that, I couldn’t be more proud of them. Ask yourself, who do you know who could have gotten all of that done in a month? The government would appoint committees, hold meetings to look into things, and there would be more meetings while everyone responsible is vetted, and on and on the list would go. Myra and Annie dived in and made it happen. They made it happen! Someone should give them a medal.”

“I second that,” Fergus said heartily. “What I wasn’t expecting to see was Lizzie Fox and Cosmo Cricket there at the end, handing over that good-sized check from all the casino owners in Las Vegas. They’re already on their way to the airport, because Cosmo is in charge of setting up a veterans’ clinic in Vegas. It’s like he said. If you want something done right, do it yourself, and that’s exactly what he’s doing, and he has the clout to pull it off, just like Annie and Myra did. Before you know it, every single veteran will be smiling, along with their families. I especially liked the part where Myra said they set up a fund for the families who are in dire straits. Food, clothing, housing, whatever they need, it’s theirs for the taking. Our girls did good. They went at it like it was a mission and brought it front and center. There will be no more sweeping things under the rug, and people will be held accountable. Count on it.”

“I’ll never argue with that,” Jack said. “But we really need to get down to business here. Abner, what do you have for us?”

“There is no master list of employees per se. I’m trying to hack into their CPA’s records, but the guy has some pretty sophisticated firewalls. I need to see the roster of employees, because that will give us addresses and Social Security numbers so we can track them. That part won’t be a problem. I got into the Sanderses’ financial records, and they are robust. But everything is heavily mortgaged. Six months ago, the couple took as much equity as they could out of the clubs and the properties that house the dancers. That tells me they’re going to be walking away very soon. Several of the clubs are working at a deficit.”

“What’s their personal wealth?” Harry asked.

“Fourteen million, give or take. Judging by a quick glance, with their overhead at all the clubs, they could never make that kind of money legitimately. Even if Gabriel is a whiz in the stock market. The couple each take a half million in salary every year. The husband invests it. It’s a joint account. I haven’t found out yet where that is stashed. So you can probably add another four million to that total I just gave you. My guess is it is probably offshore somewhere. Don’t worry. I’ll find it, and if I can’t find it, my buddy Phil Needlemeyer will find it for sure.

“We don’t have anything yet on the background checks for the Sanderses. It’s like they were hatched out of an egg twenty-five years ago. That’s as far back as I can trace them with their given names. That leads me to believe they changed their names at that point in time. Avery hasn’t checked in yet. Maggie didn’t say if they were coming back or not. Does anyone know?” Fergus asked.

“Just got a text. They’re on the way. Ten minutes out,” Jack said.

“I have a text coming in from Bert,” Charles said. As he read the short message, he shrugged. “He said he hasn’t heard from the Sanderses as yet. My guess is they won’t want to appear too eager, and they might even want to negotiate to drive the price up.”

“How did Toby’s luncheon go? Anything coming in on that?” Harry asked as he popped a handful of seeds into his mouth.

“I just sent off a text to Avery, who should be on top of things. It’s possible Toby has been in touch with young Dennis. We should have news on that shortly. By the way, did you boys come to a decision in regard to going to the Supper Club in disguise tomorrow evening to see Toby perform?” Charles asked.

“We did not!” Harry snapped.

Cyrus, not liking the snap to Harry’s tone, stopped chewing his bone and let loose with a shrill bark. Translation, “Tone it down.”

Jack held up his hand for silence. “I don’t think we need to go disguised as women. I don’t care what Espinosa says. He cannot transform us to the point where we look like women. Why can’t we just go as who we are? A bunch of guys out for dinner and a show. Or we could pretend to be gay, if you think that would work better. It’s all a no-brainer.”

“We’ll have to take a vote on that, Jack. One way or another, you all have to go to the club. All the girls are busy, so you can’t go with dates. We’ll work on that. We still have some time,” Charles said.

Cyrus bolted upright and raced from the room, an indication that Maggie and the gang were here. Snowden, too, as he was the first one to walk into the conference room.

The intrepid reporters wore huge smiles as they took their seats at the conference table.

“Pulitzers all around, baby!” Ted shouted to be heard amid all the congratulatory shouts and pats on the back.

“Enough!” Charles roared. “You can rest on your laurels later. We have a mission to plan and execute. Avery, you have the floor. Wait just a minute. Director Sparrow is sending me a coded text. He had a meeting at the White House, if you recall. It will take just a minute. Fergus, help me out here.”

The team sat quietly as they waited to see what earth-shattering news would be forthcoming from the director of the FBI.

“Gentlemen, Maggie. It would seem that the White House wants Director Sparrow and his agents to shut down Annie and Myra’s project for the veterans. He said the WH is saying Myra and Annie are giving the administration a bad name. He also said he managed to get hold of Lizzie and Cosmo just as they were ready to board their flight back home. They’re going to meet him at his office.”

Dennis West stood up, his hand clenched into a tight fist. He shook it fervently. “Then it’s war!”