Bedeviled Page 14

  “No matchmaking, please!” Charlotte replied, sidestepping the question about the event entirely. “I have been spending some time with Alex Gaines and I think he is enough for me to handle without adding a long-distance relationship.”

  “I wasn’t sure,” Regan mused. “You two looked very cozy at the engagement party but I couldn’t tell if it was just because Alex was housing you while you recovered or if there was something going on.”

  “Actually, the night of the party might be when things changed from friendly to more,” Charlotte confessed, her cheeks turning a becoming pink. “I like him, Regan. I really like him a lot.”

  “Well, he is a serious catch, Char, but I think I mentioned before that he is elusive as hell. He is notorious for dating models and actresses, so you may have your work cut out for you. But it would be really nice to see him settle down and he would be very lucky to win your heart.”

  “Well, it’s too early to say where things are headed,” Charlotte prevaricated. “Still, there have been some promising signs and I am not muddying the waters with a congressman.”

  “Of course not. Anyway, all I want to know is when will you be back? Do you want a company car to take you to the airport?”

  “Oh, no. I already have a ride and I will be back in the office Monday. Just call my cell if you need me before then.”

  Charlotte thanked Regan and went back to work clearing work off her desk. A few hours later, she jumped into a taxi in front of the building. After the cab weaved through traffic for a few blocks, Charlotte told him to pull over, tipped him well for the short ride and jumped out.

  Quickly diving into the nearby office building, Charlotte took an escalator to the basement, watching around her constantly, and waited for the blue line train to the airport. She found the easiest place to get lost was on public transportation. And right now she needed to get lost. If she were to make it to Boston, she would have to be careful, and be in stealth mode.

  Alex would appreciate how much I’ve learned from those spy movies of his. The woman in a business suit, heels and sleek bob that got on the train would never be recognized as the ponytailed, baseball cap wearing tomboy in the hoodie and heavy boots that emerged from the train at O’Hare.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Alex resisted the urge to slam down the phone. Where the hell was she? At first, he had called only to say hi, to hear her voice, to idly chat about the day. Now, after listening to the phone ring incessantly all day, he needed to know she was okay.

  The time difference had really messed him up. He had gone for a run, making it too late to catch her before she left for work and Alex hated to bother her during the workday. Meetings last night had kept him out too late to call and it had been almost two full days since he had heard her voice.

  Except on her damn machine.

  She was slow returning his text messages, but at least she usually answered them. Not today. Today his messages were met with silence. She was not answering the phone at his place or at her office. He had called her cell and texted but received no response. In desperation, he had even tried her apartment number but it was thankfully disconnected.

  So much for believing that call was from her brother. If that was the case, why disconnect the phone?

  A young man in a t-shirt and surfer shorts poked his head in the door of the large formal office, looking out of place. “We’re ready to resume, Mr. Gaines,” he told Alex in a respectful and business-like manner.

  “Thanks, Tim. I will be right in,” Alex responded with a nod. He put the phone back in its cradle slowly and rose with a scowl that sent Tim scurrying back to the boardroom.

  Alex reentered the meeting he had chaired earlier. While he had been trying to call Charlotte, most of the meeting attendees had grabbed organic tea, fresh-pressed juice, fruit or a granola bar. Looking around the crowded room, Alex had no doubt that he was back in L.A.

  California is just different.

  Unlike meetings at the bank in Chicago, Alex was currently surrounded by a much younger group of men and women, all dressed in shorts and tees, Hawaiian shirts, sundresses and Croc’s or flip flops. Everyone sat with a cutting-edge laptop or tablet in front of them. The team was different, the clothes were different and the food was different. Even the looks on their faces were different. In that moment, Alex longed for a roomful of suits, and a tray of Danish.

  “Relax, everyone. Nothing has changed,” Alex reassured everyone as he strode to the front of the room. He wore the trousers from his suit, a crisp white shirt and a Bijan tie that he had purchased on a whim on Rodeo Drive the day before. “My lawyers have assured me that we can find a solution and avoid a hostile takeover. Right, Stu?” Alex pierced a young man at the foot of the table with a glare from his azure eyes.

  “Right, Alex,” the lawyer stammered. “They don’t have a leg to stand on.”

  “Everyone feel better?” Alex asked. He looked down the table, watching everyone visibly relax shoulders and necks. “The company is fine. We have plenty of cash on hand but not too much, sales are strong, up four percent year to year. We look great on paper, but not so great that a huge conglomerate will back this deal. My family can go to hell if they think they are taking my legacy away from me.”

  A lot of heads bobbed in agreement up and down the polished table and Alex turned to look out the window at Southern California, traffic crawling on the I-5 in the distance. How had he ever thought to live here? He had loved coming out here as a kid, but he hated it now. He hated the casual clothes, the palm trees, and the god-awful traffic. He even hated the granola bars.

  Jeez, I miss her worse than I thought.

  “Okay,” he said, returning his gaze to his rapt audience. “This is the agenda for the rest of the day. Stu will take us through the case, explain the data and documents that we need to collect and then Joanie will take us through the financials before we adjourn for the day. Does anyone have anything else that we need to cover?”

  “Sir?” a young woman asked from a seat against the wall. “Would you mind giving us an update on your father? Are we allowed to visit or anything?”

  “Same as last time, Sheila, no visitors. I am sorry.”

  There was a brief murmur around the table but Alex offered no additional information, nodding instead to Stu to take the floor.

  Alex, normally extremely attentive, allowed his mind to wander. Where the hell was Charlotte and how was he supposed to deal with his miserable family when he was growing frantic about her whereabouts?

  Over the last four weeks, Alex had replayed that day in his mind and wondered how a budding love affair had soured so fast. He knew the phone message he heard was no joke between Charlotte and her brother, that the break-in was not a random thwarted robbery and he was quite sure that Charlotte had been attacked in the park. All of that was awful, but the rift it had caused between them was worse.

  It was a time for them to come together and fight whatever and whomever this threat was. He wanted to assist. He felt increasingly protective of Charlotte. Still, he could get nothing from her. She was more tight-lipped than ever. The longer she stayed silent, the more withdrawn he became, and the further apart they grew.

  This is the exact opposite of the direction I wanted us to be moving.

  It seemed obvious to Alex that someone was stalking Charlotte but he could not figure out who or why. Was someone trying to abduct her? He knew that she came from a wealthy family but he did not think that was it. He had talked to Regan since the break-in. Charlotte had never even mentioned it to Regan, which surprised and unsettled him. There were no hostilities at work, Regan had assured him, and she felt certain there was no abduction threat. There were no acquisitions, no mergers, no evictions and no foreclosures that could explain someone wanting to attack Charlotte. He had no explanation and she refused to discuss it.

  Who or what is she protecting? I just know it is something from her past. Something to do with all those trips to Boston.

 
; Even more troubling to Alex than the stalker was the fact that Charlotte didn’t trust him enough to talk to him about it. He really believed that she cared about him. The break-in had forced her to start living with him despite the fact that she had wanted time to think about it. They were doing well together, better than well. They were doing fantastic. He was learning to cook beside her in the kitchen; she was learning to swim well enough to compete someday. He had turned the extra guest room into an office for her and they lived and worked side by side during the day, cuddled, made love and slept side by side at night. They did everything but talk.

  He watched her during the long silences, brooding and far away. He was a problem solver but she would not let him solve this issue, or even tell him what it was. He had thought to call her family, but he did not even know which of the famous Roche brothers was her father.

  He was reluctant to bring his friends into any potential danger so he kept the whole situation to himself. He felt cut off, lonely and hurt.

  Why couldn’t she trust me with this? After all we have shared, didn’t she understand that I would be there for her, no matter what? No matter what…Wait a minute, asshole, it’s not like you are telling her the truth either.

  Alex shied away from the realization that he too was keeping big secrets. How could he expect her to trust him if he refused to trust her? Maybe he needed to have a serious talk with his mother. It was long overdue. He would do it immediately following his sister’s wedding. Alex and his parents needed this wedding to come off without a hitch. He had to be sure that not a whiff of scandal touched his sister before her dream wedding to her dream partner. She was blameless in everything and Alex refused to allow her to pay the price for the mistakes of others.

  But after the wedding, what did they have to lose? With the problems here in L.A., Alex recognized that he was rapidly losing control. Sure, there would be ugly fallout, but it was long past time that he got his life back. After the wedding, he would sit his mother down and they would have it out, once and for all.

  Of course, if I don’t contain this situation here and now, I won’t have a choice about when and how this all comes out.

  “Back up Stu, and go through it again,” Alex demanded as the reality of his situation hit him. “I want absolutely no stone left unturned.” Turning back to the discussion in the room, Alex gave it his full attention.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Charlotte was exhausted from the stress despite the fact that the trip had been uneventful. She gratefully slipped off her dark glasses, pulled the too-tight ponytail loose from its band, pulled out the pins holding the shorter ends under her cap, unlaced and kicked off her heavy boots. Sinking into the lumpy, pillow-top mattress of the Holiday Inn Express, she took her first calm breath of the day. She had taken two taxis and the train to get to the Foxborough location, paying cash for everything and backtracking more than once. She could only hope her brother took similar precautions. Foxborough was just too close to home for comfort. Anyone might recognize her here.

  “Be careful. Smithson,” she texted. She waited, holding her breath until she received the short text in response to hers.

  “You too. Gerard.”

  Picking up the phone in her room, she waited for the front desk to answer.

  “Hi, this is Susan Smithson in 206. Please let me know when Mr. Gerard checks in. Yes, a message would be great. Let him know I am in room 206. Thank you very much.”

  Charlotte hated all the subterfuge, but years of experience had taught her to be cautious. She suspected she was not the only one being watched. They needed to be so careful not to go anywhere, or see anyone. She had mentally prepared herself for a couple of days with nothing but four walls and delivery pizza. It was worth it. She sat back to wait and finally responded to the increasingly desperate texts from Alex.

  Alex. She wished she could tell him everything. The tension between them was growing despite the pretense that everything was fine. They shared the condo comfortably, shared a bed happily, but conversations were stilted and painful. Every question was fraught with danger to her since the break in. She could no longer keep her lies straight in her head. Who had she told what? What excuse had she used last time?

  Poor Alex. He sounded frantic, even in texts. Charlotte began by apologizing for the delay in responding. She fabricated a story about traveling to a client meeting in St. Louis. Alex knew she was negotiating a large deal there and by now she was certain that he would have figured out that she was away from home. It would explain being unreachable due to flights and meetings.

  It was only seconds before he responded. “I was worried,” his text said.

  “No need,” she replied. “Home before you.”

  “Miss you,” he replied.

  “Ditto. Later,” she said before turning away from the phone to unpack her few possessions and wait. She wished Alex were with her on this trip. She longed to bring him home to meet her family. They would all love him and he would forgive her everything. She just knew it.

  Someday. Maybe.

  She flipped through email messages, channel surfed, read some contracts for work, bored and restless until a knock on the door almost sent her flying from her perch on the end of the bed.

  “Ms. Smithson?” a deep voice inquired. “It’s Mr. Gerard.”

  Charlotte flew to the door, yanked it open and pulled the handsome man into the room. She covered his face with kisses.

  “Stop, Char, stop,” the deep voice said laughingly, but the big man allowed her to continue hugging and kissing him. “Stop and let me look at you.”

  Charlotte stepped back and twirled around before grabbing her brother’s hands and dragging him into the room. “Oh, Jake, it is so great to see you. I missed you so much,” Charlotte gushed, hugging her brother fiercely.

  “Char,” he hugged her back, “let go, Char, I can’t breathe.” Stepping out of her arms, Jake checked out Charlotte from head to toe. “What’s with the bandage?” he asked harshly. “And no bullshit.”

  “I was running in the park and I sprained my ankle,” Charlotte explained, staying close to the truth. “End of story, and end of chances to run in the Chicago marathon. I was bummed.”

  “That’s it? Just a sprain from running?” Jake seemed skeptical and Charlotte turned away from his piercing gaze to grab a sweater off the back of a nearby chair. She would never survive his scrutiny. He knew her much too well. Thank God he only saw the ace bandage she was wearing these days. She would never have been able to explain away the boot.

  “Charlotte. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I just feel guilty. This is the reason I cancelled my last trip here,” she explained. “So, how are Mama and Papa? Any chance I can see them this time?”

  “I don’t think so, honey. I am so sorry. But Don said he would come down from school Friday night to be with us if he thinks it’s safe.”

  “Damn it. I have to worry about Don now too? This is so unfair.”

  “Relax, Char, Don is fine. We just want to be very careful since the break-in. You are our only sister. Forgive us if we worry.”

  “Okay. So tell me about Mama, and Maria and work,” Charlotte demanded. “I feel so out of touch lately. I want to know everything.”

  Jake pulled up a chair and Charlotte sank to the floor with her back against the bed, knees pulled to her chest. Her brother caught her up on all the news of home. Business was good, growing faster than they had planned and overwhelming all of them, especially her father.

  “Too much growth? That is a good problem to have,” Charlotte complimented.

  “Not if it gets out of hand. Are you sure you won’t reconsider and come work in the business?” Jake asked although they both knew the answer. Charlotte couldn’t come home.

  “You aren’t letting him work too hard, are you?” she asked with concern.

  “I promise. Papa just oversees things and tastes. He tastes everything. We will never be able to replace his discerning pal
ate.”

  “I think you are right, so you better perfect everything while you can,” Charlotte warned. “I thought you were crazy when you hatched this scheme, but the market was certainly ripe for artisan baked goods. You are so good at Internet marketing and social media, too. No wonder business is exploding. You and Papa make an unstoppable team. Of course, there is Maria. She was quite a bonus.”

  When Jake finished his MBA, he approached his father with a radical idea. Take their small Rhode Island bakery and become a specialty bakery with a worldwide reach. With the old-world recipes of her father and the marketing expertise of her brother, Old World Bakeries had taken off like lightening. They were shipping overseas now, even back to Portugal, in an ironic twist.

  It had been almost forty years since the Rochas had left Porto to start a new life in America. With virtually no money, Charlotte’s father had fallen back on his skills from home, going to work in a local bakery. The bakery served the strong Portuguese communities in Fall River and Providence. Those customers were soon asking for her father’s recipes which were so reminiscent of home. He became the critical resource, eventually taking over the bakery and then expanding. With three children to feed, Luzia joined her husband in the bakery bringing her recipes with her. They created wedding cakes and pastries, sweet bread and muffins. Luzia created take out meals with spicy Chorizo and fragrant stews. Soon they were getting a lot of press, reaching far beyond the Portuguese community.