Pitch Perfect Lies

Chapter 4

Naomi froze, her heels sinking slightly into the plush carpet as her eyes locked with the stranger’s. The ballroom’s glow cast him in partial shadow, but even from this distance, she could make out the silver glint of the Leon & Co. access key as he slipped it into his inner jacket pocket. Her pulse thudded loud enough to drown out the string quartet.

That key wasn’t something just anyone could get. It unlocked the executive-level archives, private projects, client lists, and internal data. She had one. Ethan had one. A few other board members, maybe. No one else.

And yet, here this man was, standing at her company’s charity gala like he belonged, sipping from a champagne flute as if he hadn’t just shattered her carefully built sense of security.

Claire touched her arm lightly. “Are you okay?”

Naomi blinked. “Yeah. Just heat. I need some air.”

She excused herself and stepped away from the ballroom’s warmth, moving toward the corridor lined with towering glass windows. The stranger hadn’t followed, but she knew better than to let her guard down. Her phone buzzed in her clutch.

ETHAN: You clean up nice. Don’t forget to dazzle tonight.

She almost rolled her eyes but then hesitated. Ethan. Would he recognize the man? Should she tell him? But what if Ethan already knew?

That thought lodged deeper than she wanted to admit. Ethan could be a manipulative bastard, but not stupid. No one played CEO at Leon & Co. without guarding their throne. She slid her phone back into her clutch. No. She’d handle this herself. She needed to see where this thread led before yanking it.

Naomi circled the perimeter of the ballroom, feigning interest in the displays of charitable contributions and digital screens playing company highlights. Her eyes kept darting back toward the bar, but the man was gone. Damn it.

She reached the far end of the room and turned sharply, colliding with a solid chest.

“Woah,” the deep voice chuckled. “Trying to knock me out already?”

Naomi looked up to see Ethan, dressed in an obsidian tuxedo, with that insufferable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looked like every woman’s dream and every HR department’s nightmare, too confident, too polished, too dangerous for his good.

“You wish,” she said, recovering quickly.

He offered her his arm. “Dance with me.”

She hesitated, but there were eyes on them. Always eyes. “Fine.”

As he led her toward the center of the ballroom, she whispered, “Do you recognize a man in a charcoal suit, tall, clean-cut, blue tie, dark hair, sharp jaw, who was standing near the bar?”

Ethan frowned. “That’s a hell of a description.”

“He had a Leon & Co. access key.”

Ethan stopped mid-step. “What?”

“Exactly.”

They resumed their waltz, keeping smiles pinned in place as they glided beneath the chandeliers.

“I’ll have a security sweep,” he said under his breath.

“No,” Naomi said quickly. “Let’s not cause a scene. I want to know who he is first. If he has that key, he’s already deeper in than we think.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “You’re playing with fire.”

“I’m used to burns,” she replied.

After the dance, they split up to avoid drawing attention. Naomi made her way to the gallery balcony above the ballroom. From there, she could survey the entire space. She scanned the crowd, fingers gripping the banister tight enough to ache.

There, by the exit. The man was leaving.

She rushed downstairs, weaving through conversations and waiters, slipping out the side door and into the cool night.

The man walked briskly toward a sleek black car idling by the curb.

Naomi quickened her pace. “Hey!” she called.

He paused but didn’t turn. “Excuse me,” she said again, reaching him just as he opened the car door. “You dropped something earlier.”

Now he turned. His face was clean-cut, but his expression gave nothing away. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“You had a Leon & Co. key. Where did you get it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You must be Naomi Carter.”

The sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine.

“Answer the question.”

He smiled. “We’ll be seeing each other again soon. Don’t worry. I never go where I’m not invited.”

Before she could press him, he stepped into the car, and the door slammed shut. The vehicle sped off, leaving Naomi in the glow of the streetlights and the sting of a hundred unanswered questions.

She returned to the ballroom feeling the world had shifted beneath her feet. She needed answers. And if this man knew about the fake engagement or knew anything more, then this whole game with Ethan was teetering on the edge of disaster.

She found Claire by the dessert table and quickly pulled her aside.

“Get me a list of everyone who RSVP’d tonight. Cross-check it against internal access logs. I want to know if we’ve had any unknown entries this month.”

Claire didn’t question it. “I’ll have it in the morning.”

Naomi nodded, heart racing. She barely noticed when Ethan appeared beside her again, his smile tight.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing useful,” Naomi said. “But he knew my name.”

“And he had that key.”

They stood silently for a moment, the hum of the party washing around them.

“You know what this means,” Ethan said.

Naomi nodded. “Someone inside Leon & Co. gave him access.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched. “We might be deeper than we thought.”

Naomi looked up at him, her voice low. “We already are.”

******

Later that night, Naomi sat in her apartment, the glow of her laptop casting long shadows across the room. She opened the security logs Claire had forwarded. Most of it was standard.

Except for one thing.

An internal file had been accessed the night before.

A classified project labeled: PITCH PERFECT INITIATIVE—CONFIDENTIAL.

Naomi’s fingers hovered above the keyboard. That was the file containing all the details of her and Ethan’s fake engagement plan.

Is the access ID attached to the breach?

Ethan Blake.

Her heart stopped.