9
Two and a half weeks after Joseph’s call to Nick Prossi, Lia received an official offer from Prossi Designs at an annual salary of fifty-five thousand dollars. So elated by the news, she only felt a minor panic when she received a registered letter from Zurtech the following Friday demanding six thousand dollars in restitution.
It was a few minutes past 5:00 p.m. when Joseph returned her call. “Thanks for calling me back,” she said as soon as she heard his voice.
“What can I do for you?” His voice was friendly but professional, and she felt a stab of disappointment, which was ridiculous considering she wasn’t interested in a personal relationship.
“First, thank you for calling Nick Prossi. I start working on Monday. It wouldn’t have happened without you, so I’m very grateful.”
“I’m happy I could help.”
“The other reason I called is because I received a letter from Zurtech today.”
“What kind of letter?”
“Do you remember the personal shopper from Neiman Marcus I mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“They say I owe them six thousand dollars. I signed something saying I’d pay them back if I left before six months. I’m not paying them back. I can’t believe they have the nerve to even ask me to.”
“Would you email me the two documents?”
“They’re hard copies, and I don’t have a scanner. Wait, I could go to my mother’s and—”
“No, that isn’t necessary. Can you meet me somewhere? I just left the courthouse in Fairfax, so I’m in your general vicinity.”
“Yes, of course.” Her heart instantly began to pound in her chest at the thought of seeing him again.
“Or would it be easier if I came to you? With Taylor and—”
“Taylor’s with Ned for the weekend. I can meet you.” She didn’t want him coming to her apartment. It would be too weird. “Where should we meet?”
“Do you know Pearson’s?”
“Yes.” She’d never been, but she knew of the exclusive club.
“Can you be there at a quarter of six?”
She glanced down at her jeans. “I’ll try.”
Twenty minutes later, Joseph entered Pearson’s, a members-only restaurant and lounge in Fairfax County, Virginia. The hostess greeted him by name and then, at his request, led him to an obscure booth in a quiet area of the restaurant.
He’d heard from Sam Malone, who was still in the preliminary stages of his investigation, two days earlier. He’d conducted a thorough background check of Stan Hall. Hall was married with two kids, living in a $2 million home in Oakton, Virginia. His mortgage payment was over $5,000 a month, which wasn’t inconceivable with a salary including bonuses of about $300,000 per year. He’d been with Zurtech for eight years, starting as a division lead and rising to Director of Marketing in less than three years.
He’d studied business at Penn State, where he received above-average grades and met the woman he would later marry. Fifteen years later they were still married, but for the past four years he’d been having an affair with Zurtech’s Director of Human Resources, Cecile Mann.
The Zurtech House turned out not to be a Zurtech property. It was owned by Mike Hall, Stan Hall’s younger brother, who was also the millionaire owner of Tia Tacos, a successful food-truck business with a fleet of over thirty trucks, serving areas on both coasts. The house was purchased three years prior and, as far as Malone could tell, was used exclusively by Zurtech’s B2B division. Malone figured Hall had arranged to have Zurtech pay his brother for use of the property.
Malone’s investigation of Lia didn’t hold any surprises. She grew up in Northern Virginia. Her parents divorced when she was still young and her father remarried. She had one brother, who lived in the same town in California as her father, and three half siblings. She appeared to be estranged from her father.
Her mother remarried when Lia was twenty, and she appeared close to both her mother and stepfather. Lia married Ned Merrick the summer after her junior year in college and dropped out of school to work full-time while Merrick attended law school. The two had their first and only child, Taylor, a year before Merrick completed law school. Merrick began an affair with Candice Blackman, now Candice Merrick, soon after becoming an associate at Blackman and Associates. Candice’s father was the founding partner. Merrick left Lia for the other woman less than six months after taking the position. Lia had briefly moved in with her mother while she completed her undergraduate degree, and she was now living in a two-bedroom apartment off Route 7 in Tyson’s Corner. She owed a little over $7,000 in credit card debt and $10,000 on a car lien and had less than $800 in the bank. She had never been arrested and there was no evidence of drug or alcohol abuse. Malone included a couple of recent photos of her, which Joseph had studied for more than a few minutes the evening before.
Joseph glanced at his watch. It was 6:00 p.m. He opened his briefcase and took out some files.
Lia parked her Honda between a Lexus and Land Rover and quickly headed through the parking lot to the restaurant. While she liked nice things, she’d never given much thought to how much money other people made, until recently. As she struggled to make rent, she was very conscious of the thirty-year-olds driving around Northern Virginia in fifty-thousand-dollar cars.
She sighed as she turned and retraced her steps to her car, where she’d left the letters. First, she’d forgotten them in her apartment and had to backtrack five minutes, and now she was trying to go into the restaurant without them. She was acting like she was meeting him for a date instead of a business meeting. And now she was thirty minutes late.
“May I help you?” the hostess asked coolly as she approached.
“Yes. I’m here to meet Joseph Craig.”
Lia knew she didn’t imagine the widening of the other woman’s eyes at the mention of his name. “Right this way.”
She felt her heart jump as soon as she saw him sitting in a corner booth in the back of the restaurant and was thankful for the extra time she’d spent on her appearance, even if it was one of the reasons she was late. “Thank you,” she said absently to the hostess before slowly approaching his table.
He lifted his eyes when she was still about fifteen feet away, and then he was coming to his feet, looking incredibly handsome in a dark gray suit. “Hello.” His eyes were even more incredible than she remembered—a light shade of brown with a depth she could lose herself in.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I left my place without the letter and had to go back, and then traffic was bad, and—” She stopped, realizing she was rambling. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s perfectly fine. It gave me time to catch up on some work. Please”—he held his hand towards the booth—“have a seat.”
She lowered herself into the cushioned seat, letting her eyes move over his face, noticing his full lips and day’s growth of beard.
“What would you like to drink? Scotch, perhaps?”
Her eyes flew to his, and she realized he was teasing her. “I think my scotch days are over.”
“If you could just learn to sip, you might actually enjoy it.”
She scrunched up her face. “I don’t actually like the taste of alcohol.”
“A girlie drink it is,” he said. “What would you like?”
“A Cosmo.”
A waitress appeared, and he ordered Lia’s drink. Then he began gathering up some papers and files and slipping them into his briefcase. “May I see the letter?”
“Oh.” She reached for her purse, surprised at how quickly he turned the conversation to business. “The copy of the contract I signed is attached.”
He slipped on a pair of black reading glasses and remained silent as he read the letter and then flipped it over and read the contract she’d signed. “I’ll take care of it.”
“How?” She leaned back as the waitress placed the Cosmo on the table. “Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on Joseph.
“Don’t worry.” He refolded the letter and placed it in his briefcase. “You won’t have to pay the money back.”
“I wouldn’t pay it. I’d rather them take me to court.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Lia paused, unsure of what to say. She’d been upset about the letter all day, and less than five minutes after meeting with Joseph, the problem was gone. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You’ve done more for me in the past two weeks than anyone in the last…” She trailed off, dropping her eyes. “Thank you,” she said again. “I wish there was something I could do to repay you.”
“You could stop thanking me,” he said, lifting his glass.
“You got me a job,” she said.
“No, your skill set got you a job. I made an introduction.”
“That’s everything,” she said as she carefully lifted her glass to her lips. “Plus, he told me you’re his silent partner.”
“Did he?” He smiled. “Well, I’m not too silent then, am I?”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thanks.” He winked at her and her heart jumped.
“Does ‘silent’ mean you aren’t involved at all?”
“I have a financial stake in the company, nothing more.”
“I saw online that you invest in a lot of companies.”
“Online?”
She blushed, realizing she’d basically admitted to stalking him. “I researched you before we met,” she lied, her embarrassment growing at the knowing look in his eyes.
“I saw your ex-husband today.”
“Really? At the courthouse?”
He leaned back, one hand lightly gripping his drink, the other stretched out along the back of the booth cushion. “In the courtroom. I destroyed him.”
“You did?” She didn’t attempt to suppress her smile.
“Yes. I enjoyed it.”
“I would have enjoyed watching.”
“So you’re not on friendly terms?”
“No, not at all.” She dropped her eyes and took another sip from her drink.
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“It’s fine.” She sighed. “It’s fine.” She returned her gaze to his and felt momentarily lost in his eyes. There was something so familiar about him.
“He’s not very bright,” he said, and they both knew he wasn’t referring to his skill in the courtroom.
“That’s probably true, but I don’t think I am either. I married him.” She took another sip of the Cosmo and realized it was almost gone. She needed to slow down.
“Tell me about you, Lia,” he said.
“Why?” She raised her eyes to his, surprised at his request.
“I’m curious about you.”
“I’m sure your story is more interesting,” she said. “In fact, I know it is because I read about you in the Washingtonian magazine a few months ago.”
Joseph smiled, revealing his deep dimples. “What did you think?”
“I think your story is a lot more interesting than mine.”
“But I already know my story. I’d like to hear yours.”
“It’s boring.”
“Humor me. Please,” he urged.
For the next ten minutes she gave him a synopsis of her life. “I told you it wasn’t interesting,” she said as she finished. “No one’s going to write my biography.”
Joseph watched her in silence for a long moment before finally speaking. “I’m about to say something unprofessional.”
“You are?” She couldn’t imagine what he was going to say.
“Yes.” He continued to meet her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about you since you came into the law firm. I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” His voice was low and steady. “I want to see you. Socially.”
Lia was stunned speechless by his bluntness. And when she recovered she was embarrassed. She’d obviously not done a very good job of masking her feelings. And then she was mad. Mad he’d asked her out when he knew that she knew he had a girlfriend. “Are you sure your girlfriend would be okay with this?”
He brought his eyebrows together in a frown. “Kathy and I broke up.”
“Oh.” She dropped her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head.
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
Lia closed her eyes as a panicked feeling began to grip her chest. He was so handsome, and she was so lonely, but she knew she couldn’t handle getting hurt again. Not so soon after Eric, probably not ever and certainly not by him. “I still can’t date you,” she rushed out. “I can’t.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
Lia let out a humorless laugh. “No. And to be honest, I don’t think I ever will again.”
“May I ask why?”
“I’m not good at it. Every relationship I’ve ever had with a man ended with a great deal of pain,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “Pain for me. I don’t want anymore.”
“Mr. Craig?” the waitress’s voice interrupted.
“Give us a minute,” he said, holding up his hand, his eyes remaining locked with Lia’s. “I’m not interested in causing you pain,” he said as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. “Quite the opposite actually.”
Lia dropped her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I just can’t.”
“Let me buy you dinner.” He reached across the table and covered her hand. “Please.”
Her whole body began to tingle in response to his touch, and she felt tears coming to her eyes. The thought of getting up and leaving him and going home to her lonely apartment was intolerable, and yet she knew if she had sense it was exactly what she would do.
“Just dinner?” she asked softly, lifting her tear-filled eyes to his.
“Hey.” He ran his index finger beneath her eye, catching a tear. “Don’t cry. I’m not the bad guy. I just want to buy you dinner.”
It was three hours later and she was beside Joseph, walking across the darkened parking lot towards her car. “Thank you for dinner. It was nice.”
“It was.” They continued in silence, the only sound coming from the gravel kicking up under their feet as they crossed the parking lot, both lost in their own thoughts.
Lia took her keys from her purse as they approached her car. “This is it.”
He opened the door, but she made no move to get in, instead turning to face him. “Thank you again for everything. The job, the Zurtech stuff, dinner.” She felt like she could cry again. He was being so nice to her, and she felt overwhelmed with gratitude and something she wasn’t prepared to label yet.
“You’re welcome.” He lowered his head in acknowledgement. “Now get in your car. It’s too cold for you to stand out here talking to me.”
He was right. The wind had kicked up, and it felt like icicles were forming on her bones. She sank down into the bucket seat and put the key in the ignition, bringing the engine to life.
“I want you to do me a favor,” he said. He stepped back from the door and set down his briefcase before reaching inside his coat and suit jacket to extract a brown leather wallet from an inner pocket. “I want you to think about the women you know.” He was removing a business card from his wallet as he spoke. “Are you doing that?” He placed the wallet back in his pocket.
“Yes.” Her hands were resting on the steering wheel as she looked up at him.
“Do you have a pen?”
“Sure.” She took a pen from her center console and held it out.
He took the pen and turned over his business card, cupping it in his palm as he quickly scribbled down his cell and home phone numbers, before handing her back the pen. “Now,” he began, squatting down in the opening of the door until they were at eye level, “think how different those women are.” His eyes were intense as they met hers. “Men are the same way.” He held out his card and she took it, their fingers brushing. “All I ask is you judge me based on my behavior and not any other man’s. My numbers are on that card.” His gaze dropped to the card in her hand before returning to her eyes. “If you ever want me, personally or professionally, call me.” He stared into her eyes for several more seconds before slowly standing. “I’ll keep you abreast of what’s happening with Zurtech, but don’t be surprised if it takes a while.”
She nodded. “I understand.” Her head was spinning as she tried to absorb the message he’d sent. He was leaving it up to her. If she wanted to see him socially she could call him, but he wasn’t going to call.
“Good luck Monday.” He stepped back from the car. “I hope you call,” he added before closing the door.
Lia rolled down her window when he made no move to leave. “Where’s your car?”
“I had it valet parked,” he admitted with a smile. “I’m lazy.”
“I doubt that.” He didn’t look lazy. She bet he belonged to a gym where everyone knew his face. “Aren’t you going to go get your car?” she asked when he still made no move to leave.
“I will.” He pushed his hands down into the pockets of his coat. “I’m going to watch you drive away first.”
She smiled. He was nice. He was so nice. “Okay. Bye.” She closed the window and put her car in reverse.
He stood in the center of the now empty parking lot, watching her drive off and continuing to watch until the car was completely out of sight.
“I almost forgot,” Tony began, dropping back into the club chair in front of Joseph’s desk. “Are you using Sam Malone for anything?”
“Yes. Why?”
“His invoice for February, which also included a hefty balance from January, was billed to one of my accounts. I have the invoice on my desk.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Joseph said, absently rolling a pencil back and forth on his desk.
“Just tell me the account. I’ll transfer it over.”
“I was using him on more than one case.” His eyes focused on the pencil as his index finger rolled it forward. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Alright.” Tony put his hands on the arms of his chair and pushed himself up.
Joseph leaned back in his chair as he watched his friend leave the room. Sam Malone had provided an update the week prior. In the past two months, the Zurtech house had hosted one to two receptions a week. Malone had taken dozens of pictures of women he identified from the B2B division and male senior executives, both local and out-of-town visitors, arriving and leaving the house at all hours.
As the weeks passed, it became obvious which women participated in the after-party activities. Malone figured seven of the twenty B2B women he documented were working as prostitutes. These women consistently spent the night in the house, while the others were always gone by midnight. There were more clients than B2B women involved—at least that’s what Malone thought—but it was hard to determine an exact number without actually being inside the house.
The same local caterer was used for all events, and it appeared Mike Hall was personally financing the receptions. Zurtech was paying for neither the use of the facility nor the food and alcohol consumed. Why the owner of a food-truck business with no financial connection to Zurtech was funding an operation clearly catering to their elite clients was still a mystery.
“Mr. Craig?” Martha’s voice over the intercom broke into his reverie. “Sam Malone is on line two.”
“I may have something,” Sam Malone said as soon as Joseph picked up the phone. “There was someone at the house at about noon yesterday. He was alone and had a key to the house.”
“What was he doing there?” Joseph sat up in his chair.
“I’m not sure yet. He went in for about ten minutes, tops, and then he came out. He was driving one of those big Lexuses, with fancy hubcaps and all shined up, blaring this loud music. Definitely didn’t fit into that neighborhood. I ran his plates, and his name is Marcos Rodriguez. He’s American, born in New York City. He has a record as long as my arm for petty theft, breaking and entering—that type of thing. But he’s been clean six years.”
“Alright.” Joseph scraped his hand over his mouth and chin.
“He’s on the payroll of Tia Tacos. Do you want me to put a tail on him?”
“Yes.”
“In addition to the house?”
“Whatever it takes to get some evidence. I’m already twenty-five grand in,” Joseph said. “Also, I need you to start sending your invoices for this job to my home address.”
Lia was halfway through Taylor’s bedtime story later the same evening when her cell phone began to ring. “Mommy, your phone’s ringing.”
“I know.” Lia glanced down at her phone, her heart jumping when she saw the Washington, DC, exchange. She wasn’t positive, but she thought it was Joseph Craig’s number.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Taylor asked.
“No,” she said, silencing the ring. “I’m going to finish reading you this story. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.”
As soon as she closed Taylor’s door, Lia brought her phone to her ear to listen to the voicemail. “Good evening, Lia. This is Joseph Craig. I have a question regarding Zurtech. I’ll be up until at least one a.m.”
She closed her eyes as she replayed the message, her pulse accelerating at the sound of his deep voice. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since their dinner at Pearson’s, but he was never far from her thoughts. She’d almost called him during the initial week after their dinner, her resolve weak after spending an evening with him, but as the days passed, her determination to take a break from men grew stronger. She had been too hurt by both Ned and Eric and, as much as she was attracted to Joseph Craig, she knew she wasn’t in the right mental state for another relationship. Of course, this knowledge didn’t keep her from fantasizing about him as she lay in bed each night, visions of his dark, wavy hair and brown eyes swirling through her mind.
She poured herself a glass of wine in an effort to calm the nervous flutter in her stomach. He had a question about Zurtech, but all she could think about was the fact she was going to talk to him again. She went about her normal evening routine, cleaning the kitchen and straightening up the house, her thoughts never far from Joseph Craig and the impending call. It was after 11:00 p.m. when she stretched out on her bed with her cell phone in her hand, her nerves muted but not altogether gone after a glass and a half of wine.
The phone rang several times before his voice came over the line, his breathing heavy from exertion. “Craig.”
She closed her eyes, an image of him having sex flashing through her mind. She wanted to hang up, but it was too late. He’d know it was her. “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted me to call you back tonight.”
“I did. Hold on for a second.” There was a long pause. “I was on the treadmill,” he said, his voice less labored.
“Oh.” She felt her entire body relax. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I was just finishing. How are you?”
“Good.” She closed her eyes, letting the sound of his voice wash over her. “How are you?”
“How am I?” He chuckled. “I’m fine.”
“I can’t believe you’re working out this late. Doesn’t that make it hard to fall asleep?”
“I’m still a couple of hours from sleep, but it doesn’t affect me. How is Taylor?”
“Good. She started reading. It’s amazing—one day she’s learning her alphabet and then suddenly she can read sentences. And she loves it. She wants to read all the time. The other day I caught her trying to read one of my books. I don’t think she could comprehend what she was reading, but she’s so proud of the fact she could read it.”
“She should be. It’s a huge accomplishment. How about her mother? Is she enjoying her new job?”
“I love it,” she admitted, and spent the next five minutes telling him about her position. “I’m sorry. I know you called for a reason, and I’m just going on and on, not letting you get a word in.”
“No, it’s nice to hear your enthusiasm. You sound like you’re in a better place than when we spoke last.”
“I am,” she said, knowing she was acknowledging it to herself for the first time. “I’m in a much better place.”
“That’s good to hear.” He paused for a moment. “The reason I called tonight was to find out if you knew or heard of a Marcos Rodriguez while you were at Zurtech.”
“I’ve heard of a Marcos, but I never learned his last name. He was Carmen’s boyfriend.”
“Carmen?”
“My first mentor, the one I said never worked and talked on the phone. Marcos was the person she talked to.”
“The same woman you caught in bed with—”
“Eric,” she finished. “Right, that was Carmen.”
“Did you ever see him at the house in Reston?”
“No. We weren’t allowed to bring dates to those functions.”
“Did you ever meet him?”
“No. Why? Why are you asking these questions about Marcos?”
“I’m just following up on some information,” he answered, distractedly. “I have nothing definitive, but I’ll let you know when I do.”
“Oh, okay.” She felt a wave of disappointment, realizing he was about to end the call. She wanted to keep talking to him.
“You’ve been very helpful. I’ll be in touch.”
She set her cell phone on her bedside stand before lying back on her bed, reminding herself she wasn’t interested in having a relationship, but unable to shake the sadness at the quick ending to their call.