Twisted Deception

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“How are you?” It took everything Greyson Hollister had

not to return the vise-like handshake from the man she knew was spreading the

takeover rumors. The conference center hummed from all the glad-handing going

on around her. She was sure her next comment would pass without notice, except

for its intended target.

“Good to see ya, Greyson. Sorry about your father.”

“Thanks.” She pulled her hand back and gently jerked him

toward her. “Cut out the bullshit takeover rumors.” Her voice was menacing now

that no one could hear them. “You know I own controlling interest in Integrated

Financial, and I’m not selling,” she whispered. For good measure, she pecked

him on the cheek. “Otherwise, I’ll go to the FCC on that little trade issue

with Markham Holdings.” He paled as she patted him on the shoulder. Squeezing

his hand harder, she wished she could crush it and the man at the same time.

“Didn’t think I knew?”

“It isn’t me, Greyson.” He dropped her hand and stepped

back, putting some critical distance between them.

“You’ve been warned.”

Greyson walked past him and toward the bar. She needed a

drink. All of this pressing the flesh, as her father called it, left her with a

sore hand, indigestion, and the need for a shower to get the scum off her.

“The price of doing business, princess,” he said. She

watched him soak in the energy of the hive as people milled about schmoozing

and puckering.

It was a memory best left to yesteryear.

Flexing her hand, she nodded her thanks to the bartender

as she tipped her two fingers of bourbon and savored the fire coating her

throat. The burn was more refreshing than a cool drink of water and just as

soothing. She’d accomplished her mission tonight: kill the takeover talk.

“Ms. Hollister, there’s been an incident at the office,” a

man whispered in her ear.

For Greyson Hollister, men were like earrings or purses:

nothing more than an accessory that she could switch out from time to time.

Lately, though, she’d forgotten to trade her latest accessory for a new one.

Jarrod Bennet, her pseudo-date for the night and her never-late assistant,

always had bad timing.

She didn’t let her smile waver as she scanned the room and

waved at someone without missing a beat. She never lowered her guard, and the

recent economic troubles only made her persevere. Bad news rarely ruffled her

feathers. She poked a strand of hair back into a tight all-business bun that

was giving her a splitting headache.

“Did you hear me?”

“I did. You said there’s been an incident at the office.

What kind?” Taking another sip of her bourbon, she let its peaty taste linger

on her tongue. “I assume you can handle this, Jarrod. I pay you enough.”

“I’m afraid this is a little out of my wheelhouse, Ms.

Hollister.” Jarrod pulled at his necktie, trying to loosen the knot. Clearly he

was out of his element. “The police called and would like to speak with

you.”

Greyson narrowed her eyes. A sideways glance at Jarrod’s

sullen face almost made her smile. “Police? Was there a break-in?” Briefly

exchanging niceties as another patron slid past her, she said, “If so, call the

insurance company. They’ll send a rep out—ˮ

“There was a

rape.”

“What?” Greyson straightened as if her spine had suddenly

fused itself. She tried to conceal the shock as another constituent approached.

Now Jarrod had her full attention as she finished the handshake and pulled him

away from the crowd.

“Someone was raped in the building,” he repeated, pulling

his necktie looser.

“When?”

Jarrod peeked down at his watch. “Around ten thirty.

They’re taking the victim to Mercy General.”

“Who?”

“Addie Blake. She’s an analyst down in accounting. Seems

she and Paul Winston were pulling a late night to bring in the quarterlies on

time.”

She knew Addie Blake from division meetings. Addie Blake

was a mouse of a gal. Soft-spoken, hard worker, smart. She didn’t speak often

during meetings, something Greyson appreciated when others were too chatty.

What she did contribute was thoughtful and concise. Just the kind of worker

Greyson liked. She’d taken an interest in Addie Blake, especially after seeing

her leaving just as many a late night as Greyson did. Greyson found that

admirable in a cutthroat world of corporate suits who’d knife their coworkers,

especially if it meant a bigger piece of the pie or face time with the boss.

Corporate greed. It fueled the world of high finance. Towers filled with

testosterone, scotch, and bitches. Greyson wasn’t the corporate b***h, but she

was the top b***h.

Greyson suddenly felt sick. “Please tell me they have the

suspect?” Setting her drink on the table, she glanced at Jarrod but knew his

answer wouldn’t be good.

He shook his head, cast his eyes down, and buttoned his

jacket. “I’ll get your coat and have the car brought around if you want to make

your apologies to the guests.”

“Excuse me?” Greyson furrowed her brows. She didn’t

tolerate a man telling her what to do. Especially a subordinate. Jarrod kept

other men at bay and provided enough cover that relationship questions were

nonexistent. Lately, though, he’d tried to cross the line into paramour. She’d

been on track to yank the proverbial rug right out from under him tonight

before he shared this tragic news. “Are you telling me what to do?”

Jarrod shrank. “No, no, of course not. I’m sorry. I just…I

mean…I thought you’d want to handle this personally. I mean, we’ve never had

something like this happen at Integrated Financial. I can call someone from Legal

if you’d rather not be bothered.”

“We?”

“I don’t mean ‘we’ as in you and me. I just meant the big

‘we.’” He was blathering, making a small circular, almost unnoticeable, gesture

with his hands.

“Have my car brought around and find out what hospital Ms.

Blake is in.”

“The police have asked to speak with you.”

“Call Legal and let them know what’s going on. I’ll ask

Neil to meet me at the hospital.”

Neil Harris was her personal attorney. He was cutthroat,

efficient, and well-connected—the only person she trusted. His advice had

become invaluable of late.

“Of course. Would you like me to drive you?”

Greyson spied an opportunity and pounced on it. “Jarrod,

there is no ‘we.’ You’re my assistant. If I’ve led you to believe anything else

existed between us, that’s only in your head,” she said sternly as they walked

toward the coatroom. She’d shot him down repeatedly and almost felt sorry for

him—almost. She compensated him well for his extracurricular help. If she knew

Jarrod, they would do this dance again in about a month.

She really should let him go, and eventually she would,

but at this moment she was kicking it into damage control. She’d handle Jarrod

later. “Now, I’m sure you can find a taxi home. Can’t you?” She pushed through

the doors, leaving him fumbling for a response. Snatching her keys from the

valet, she raced to her car, barely hearing Jarrod curse and then respond.

“Of course.” The venom dripping from his voice might have

concerned her if she’d hesitated a moment longer.

****

The fog wrapped around the departing SUV like a protective

cape. He smirked. It would only be a matter of time before he took a bite out

of that apple. Until then he would just have to satisfy his appetite with

another juicy morsel. Walking back into the convention center, he fingered the

razor-sharp stiletto in his pocket. It was begging for release, and he was more

than happy to oblige.

“Hey, did you forget something?” asked a waitress loaded

down with a tray of dirty glasses.

She’d been shaking her ass in his face all night, and he’d

more than noticed. He’d waited patiently until they could be alone.

“Yeah. I think I left my cigar case inside. Mind if I

check?”

Her eyes smiled as she looked him up and down. Clearly she

was appreciating his tailored appearance.

“Sure. If you can’t find it there, go to the coat check.

It’s also the lost-and-found.” She pressed the button on the service elevator.

As it opened, he followed her in. “Here. Let me help you

with that,” he said, pressing the down button and watching the door slide

closed. If only she could see the feral grin spread across his lips. Tonight

was going to be a great night, he thought as he caressed his stiletto.