Chapter Nineteen
Her heart surged as she heard the familiar voices through the door. Ally shifted back in front of the full-length mirror for one last check, taking a deep breath as she brushed invisible lint from her front.
Yesterday had been…
Enlightening.
Freed from Vincent’s shadow, she’d had a good time promoting the company and making some real progress without having to worry about covering for one of Vincent’s faux pas.
Trey’s presence had been far from the annoyance she’d anticipated, given the way they’d separated the previous evening.
He’d been silent and supportive, standing nearby with a quiet strength that somehow helped empower her. She could have done the meetings without him, but it felt good to have someone guarding her back, both figuratively and literally.
For a fleeting moment, she’d considered taking his hand, pushing past the truce and making another move on him, but decided against it.
When Vincent returned, everything would be different—of that she was sure.
She stepped through the door to see Trey sitting there, chatting with Edgar and eating up a storm as he demolished a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast courtesy of room service.
“Good morning.” She crossed over to the small buffet table, accepting the coffee from Edgar. “I thought you might not make it back, what with your other job and all.” She sat in the far chair and sipped her coffee, unable to keep her eyes off him.
His white dress shirt was tight across his broad chest. The black pants fit well, almost too well—tight in all the right places. His tie was slightly askew, tempting her to reach out and straighten it, wrap the tail around her hand and give a swift tug, pulling him in for another one of those devastating kisses.
She fought to not stare, remembering how he’d felt, how he’d tasted…
A flash of heat between her legs reminded her of when she’d straddled him in the car’s backseat, his hips rocking against hers in a primitive dance as old as time. It had been only a day since they’d been in the taxi, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. And she still wanted him.
She bit her tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood.
“The club’s doing fine without me. Not too fine”—he held up a finger—“so I’ve still got a job.” He plucked a piece of bacon off the platter. “So, I understand we’re doing more of the political thing this morning.”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat, grateful for the diversion. “This is more the meet-and-greet, press-the-flesh type of get together.”
“More your strength,” he offered. “I’m more the knock-their-heads-together type of negotiator. Tact is not one of my strengths.”
Edgar came over with a plate loaded up with eggs and fresh fruit.
Ally picked at the cantaloupe slices. “Any news on Vincent?”
“Not yet. The best thing he did is take that cash advance—it confirmed he’s alive and spending money.” Trey nodded as he accepted a coffee refill from Edgar. “She’ll bring him back.”
She speared a juicy piece of pineapple. “He’s going to be furious.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Trey settled in the chair opposite him. “Jessie’s pretty persuasive.”
She ate in silence, mentally juggling her concern for Vincent and the cold business matters ahead of her.
“I’m glad you stayed,” she said. “I know it’s doubtful there are going to be any more ‘visitors,’ but I’d like to keep Edgar free for any possible issues that might come up.”
She knew it was a comfortable lie, and he knew it as well, judging by the slight uptick on one side of his mouth.
At least they agreed on that.
He eyed her. “Like I said, I don’t know how much help I’m actually going to be if things get too deep. Edgar left me some notes, and I’ve done research, but this is new territory for me.”
Edgar nodded as he collected the empty plates.
“I understand.” She replied. “Except it never hurts to have a strong, handsome representative for the ladies. You can stand there and be eye candy.”
Did I just say that?
Talk about sexual harassment.
Her cheeks burned. She resisted the urge to touch them and confirm her embarrassment.
“I’m at your beck and call.” He winked. “Just don’t sell me off cheap.”
Her mouth went dry, as if filled with cotton.
Edgar coughed, bringing her back to Earth.
“I’ll bring the car around. See you downstairs.”
…
Trey was familiar with public relations. Dylan schmoozed all the time with prospective clients who wanted to book the club for a party, and he helped out with charities when the Brotherhood donated their time. Trey thought he knew how to play the game.
He was wrong.
By the third meeting, he was ready to kill someone. He stood near Ally like a faithful hound, muttering platitudes while the politicians rambled on about their great plans for Las Vegas. Ally deftly dodged queries about Vincent and inserted her own coy comments about how good Sheldon Construction could be for all involved. They’d worked their way up from the mayor’s office and now had gone to the state level.
“How do you deal with all this bullshit?” he whispered to Ally as they ate the rubber chicken and overcooked vegetables, a working lunch with a pair of congressmen and their assistants. “Talking to all these men and knowing some of them are imagining you naked and on your knees.”
She stared at him, her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t blame the messenger. I’m a man.” He pointed at his chest with the dull knife provided to hack up the rubber chicken. “I see the looks they give you. I know what they’re thinking.”
“Nothing I can’t deal with. I smile a lot.” She demonstrated, making his heart skip a beat. “I wonder how they would appear buck naked and on their knees.”
He flinched and put his fork down. “Oh, man. Now I need to bleach my brain.” He fought to keep from glancing over at the beaming politician, busy nattering to one of the local reporters.
“Exactly.” Ally grinned at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t stare at the ladies like that at times.”
“Never,” he answered, maybe a bit too fast.
“Never?” she repeated. “I find that hard to believe.” Ally smiled, a mischievous smirk that had his blood racing south. “Oh, don’t worry. I do it about you, too, when you’re not looking.”
She picked up the glass of sparkling water and took a sip before turning to the man sitting next to her and striking up a conversation, seemingly oblivious to the chaos she’d sown in Trey’s mind.
…
As she finished off the light talk with the congressional aide Ally pondered how the day had gone so far. Teasing Trey wasn’t part of the plan, but she enjoyed the freedom, the release from having to be always on guard, watching out for Vincent.
It was relaxing, liberating—almost addictive. She said what she wanted to say, sold the business without having to worry about Vincent interrupting with a bawdy joke or some other etiquette fumble.
The most interesting aspect of the situation was their flipped roles. Usually, Vincent played the smart one, and she the thoughtful but quiet aide, popping in with details as seen fit. With Trey taking her normal role, she was now front and center, and she quite enjoyed taking point.
Very much so.
Ally had seen the adoring gazes tossed his way, the women talking behind their hands to each other, wondering who this mystery man was. Add in the lack of a wedding band, and she was sure there’d be more than a few hand-scribbled notes on napkins tucked into his jacket pocket by the end of the day.
She couldn’t pass up the chance to tease Trey. Without the shadow of Vincent hanging over her, she’d managed to present Sheldon Construction in a positive way, setting the stage for future projects. If things worked out, the seeds sown today would bear profitable fruit for the company over time.
A pang of guilt shot through her at the idea of profiting through Vincent’s absence. It didn’t feel right, and yet… It was best for the company and, though she hated to admit it, for her.
She played with the fork and knife on her plate. She didn’t hate Vincent; she couldn’t hate him. He’d been there for her when she’d needed help growing up—she couldn’t ever consider that debt paid off. But when he was around, she was constantly putting out fires, and the past few days, while hectic, had been a welcome change.
Something had to be done when Vincent came back. She put the thought aside for another time, a promise to explore her options.
She just didn’t want the changes to be due to Vincent’s death.
A cold shiver drummed through her veins, dampening the happy feelings from the positive interactions.
She looked at Trey and saw the concern in his eyes, all the humor gone. With a shock, she realized he knew what she’d been thinking, her mental juggling visible to him and him alone.
“He’ll be fine,” he said, reaching over to take her hand. “It sounds silly, but the longer we can’t find him, the more likely he’s alive. Jessie’s got a lock on him, and she’s not going to give up until she has answers for you.”
She didn’t want to argue with his logic. The simple touch of his hand sent her heart racing. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since their frantic coupling in the car.
Yet here they were, talking and flirting like ordinary people.
“It’s more than that.” She sighed, holding back the urge to put her hand on his, interlock their fingers, and keep hold of him forever. “It’s the waiting for an answer. Waiting to find out what’s going on, what the hell he was thinking when he put this company and my livelihood at risk. It burns and burns, digging into me.”
“I understand.”
She looked at him, the breath catching in her throat as she saw it in his eyes.
He did.
She couldn’t answer him because she suspected, she knew it had something to do with Vincent.
She had to find out what.
Trey cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “How long before we can leave without seeming impolite?” he asked.
“Not soon enough. We’ve got a quick clothing change at the hotel and then an evening cocktail party.” She laughed at his scowl. “Don’t worry, we only need to make an appearance for an hour or two. Tuxedo time.”
He chuckled. “Been a long time since I’ve worn a tux.”
“Don’t worry, it’s like riding a bike.” Ally smiled, some of the weight lifting from her heart. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in it.”
…
The ride back to the hotel was quick; the fitting for the fancy clothing needed for the cocktail party, not so much. Trey didn’t have a tuxedo available, and Edgar insisted he wear Vincent’s—there was no use in buying or renting one at this late date.
Trey allowed himself to be talked into it, enjoying the interaction with the veteran.
He stood in the center of the suite, wearing the tuxedo as Edgar growled and huffed at the awkward fit.
Edgar frowned as he tugged at one arm. “I need to call the hotel tailor. We need this adjusted.”
Trey rolled his shoulders, the fabric tight across his back. “I can make this work for a night.” He searched for a way to turn the subject from his physique. “How’s the cover story about Vincent’s food sickness holding up?”
“So far, just fine. No one’s really looking too closely—Vincent might run the company, but he doesn’t have many true friends, and none of them are here. As far as they’re concerned, he’s holed up in his room either sleeping off a massive drinking binge or actually working on this presentation. Either way, it’s working out.”
Trey nodded as Edgar pinched the fabric again. “Vincent’s going to be pissed if you get his clothing resized.”
The older man grumbled. “We can buy a new tux. It’s important for you to make a proper impression. Having you look like a refugee from a frat party isn’t going to help Ally when she’s making her pitches.”
“About Ally…” Trey paused, choosing his words carefully. “Why hasn’t she found a boyfriend?” He put his hand up before Edgar could answer. “I’m curious why she hasn’t got them lined up out the door. She’s smart, sexy, single…”
“She’s had a few.” Edgar pulled the jacket off Trey’s shoulders and put it on a hanger. “Vincent tends to chase them away with his antics. He comes with her, and that’s often too much baggage for most men to consider taking on.” He eyed Trey. “Not to mention it takes a strong man to keep up with Ally.”
Trey chuckled. “I’m seeing that. She’s smart enough to run this company by herself. Why haven’t her parents kicked Vincent to the side? Or at least relegated him to a purely ornamental role—trot him out when they need a man and then stick him in the back with his toys and let Ally run the show.”
“Her parents love and adore her—they wouldn’t trust her with as much as they do if they didn’t have the utmost confidence in her abilities. She’s the daughter they never had. They’re afraid, with good reason, that if they put her up front that some companies will walk away because she’s female.” He held up a hand, stalling Trey’s response. “Vincent may be a jerk at times, but he’s always had her back. When she proposes something, he more often than not goes with it because it’s sound business and he knows how good she is at this. Splitting them up would be tough. They also believe Vincent will somehow come into his own as a man, mature out of these frat boy games of drinking and gambling.” Edgar grunted. “I don’t think there’s a chance of that happening. Now with this latest complication…” He shook his head. “I can’t say I’m keen on staying with Vincent much longer. A man who steals from his own family isn’t someone I want to work for.”
“What if he’d killed someone?”
Edgar stared, one eyebrow slowly rising. “Killed someone?”
“Yes.” Trey edged out onto the invisible ledge. “What would his family do? What would you think?”
The older man frowned, crossing his arms. “You and I, we know about killing. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”
“I’m asking what you would do if Vincent was personally responsible for a man’s death.”
“I’d like all the details.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at Trey. “All of them.”
“Understood.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take this to the hotel tailor and have it fixed right away.” He picked up the jacket and opened the door leading to the hallway.
“Edgar.”
He paused and glanced back over his shoulder.
“I’ll tell you if and when I can. I promise.”
“Be sure you know what you’re doing, and have the proof in hand. Because if it’s not solid, the Sheldons will come after you on every level they can. And they’ll destroy you.”
“And if it’s true?” Trey nudged.
Edgar’s expression didn’t change. “It’ll destroy this family. Including Ally. Might want to keep it in mind before you pull the pin and throw that particular grenade.”
The door closed with a click, leaving Trey alone.