Читать книгу The Highest Bidder - Maureen Child - Страница 13

Vance leaned in toward her so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice above a roar. “So what did you think of the auction?”

Her gaze snapped to his and excitement shone in her blue eyes. “It was wonderful. It is every time, but today, seeing the royal jewels? Knowing that I was touching something worn by a queen more than a hundred years ago? Wonderful, if terrifying.”

“Terrifying?”

“Did you hear what that necklace sold for?” She shook her head and laughed. “I was terrified I’d drop it or accidentally twist the gold wire or gouge out a stone or something….”

His mouth quirked. “A busy imagination.”

“Oh, incredibly busy. I’ll probably drive Jake crazy as he grows up. If he gets a cold, in my head it escalates in seconds to pneumonia, then an oxygen tent and my donating a lung or something.” She paused, took a breath and said wryly, “Now that you know I’m nuts, feel free to run.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not, are you?” She tipped her head to one side to look at him and a cascade of blond hair swung down by her shoulder like a slice of sunlight. “I wonder why.”

He wondered that, too. She wasn’t the kind of woman who usually drew him in and, yet, she fascinated him enough that he was willing to put up with complete bedlam just to sit across the table from her.

“Anyway,” she said, returning to his earlier question, “I love the auctions. Being part of the excitement, even in a small way.”

Vance nodded. “I understand that completely. My father took me to my first auction when I was ten. It was sports memorabilia. Baseball cards, Babe Ruth’s glove, Ted Williams’s favorite bat, that kind of thing.” She was smiling at him, silently encouraging him to go on.

So he did. “Even at ten, I felt that rush you were talking about. Seeing those things from the past getting a new shot at being appreciated …”

“Exactly.” Absentmindedly, she reached out and patted his hand in solidarity. “Like the jewelry today. Justin says the collection was most likely kept locked away in Cadria, in a vault or a crown jewels room—who knows? But today, the pieces were in the light again. Being admired. People were buying them so they could be worn again. Dazzle again.” She sighed.

“Liked the jewelry, did you?”

“What woman wouldn’t? Especially that necklace. But it wasn’t just the stones themselves, it was the romance of it. A wedding present from a king to his queen. The legend of happily-ever-after attached to it. The diamonds and rubies themselves were just part of the whole.” She shook her head, still awestruck. “Amazing.”

Behind Vance, the crazed three-year-old was shouting about cake and his parents were quietly telling him to use his inside voice. Vance wasn’t sure the kid had an inside voice and if he did, whether it would be heard in the cacophony of sound.

Keeping his voice as low as he could and still be heard, he leaned toward Charlie and caught her gaze with his.

“How’d you get interested in auctions? I mean, I was born into it. What’s your reason?”

The waitress showed up with two coffees and a small dish of fresh fruit. As Charlie cut the pieces of cantaloupe, watermelon and grapes into even tinier pieces for her son, she started talking.

“In college I went to a few auctions with friends.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Nothing like the ones we hold at Waverly’s, of course. These were more country auctions, selling crates of mystery goods or farm equipment, some furniture and antiques. But the feeling was the same, if you know what I mean. The sense of anticipation—people hoping to find something special. Maybe buying a painting for a dollar and discovering an old master under an ugly dog playing poker—”

He laughed.

Charlie shrugged and said, “It was everything. The auctioneer, the crowds, the bidding. I loved all of it. So when my grandmother died—”

“Your grandmother?”

She stopped and he read hesitation in her eyes as she bit at her bottom lip. He knew she hadn’t meant to say that and his curiosity was piqued.

“My grandmother raised me,” she said briefly then hurried on. “Anyway, when she died, I packed up and moved to New York. Two years ago, I got a job at Waverly’s. I started out in HR, but worked my way up, and now I work for the boss.”

He laughed. “One of the bosses, anyway.”

“Why did you take us to dinner?” Charlie asked suddenly. She smoothed wisps of light brown hair off her son’s forehead and said, “I can’t imagine you’ve been dying to have dinner with a bunch of screaming kids.” Her eyes widened as she looked past him. “Oops.”

Vance felt someone watching him and slowly turned his head to meet the three-year-old screamer’s big, dark eyes. The boy was hanging over the back of the bench seat, watching him intently. Vance stared right back at him. When the boy stuck out his tongue, Charlie laughed and Vance winced.

“Trevor!” the boy’s mother snapped, and dragged him back down to his seat. “Sorry,” she murmured.

Shaking his head, Vance turned back to Charlie. “Clearly the evil Boss Stare doesn’t work on kids,” he muttered, then looked into her eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Would it be wrong to say yes?”

“Yes, it would.”

Soberly, she nodded. “Then no, I don’t like it at all. It’s absolutely terrible how you’re suffering.”

He gave her a rueful smile. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been teased. Usually people—women—were wary around him. They spoke softly and moved slowly, as if he were a live grenade about to go off. Not Charlie. And while he never wanted to see this diner again, he was actually having a good time.

Something he hadn’t expected. He’d only thought about how to get her talking. To spilling secrets, if she had any. But if she had those secrets, they were still her own. Which meant that he’d be spending more time with her.

A plan he didn’t have a problem with.

When her son rubbed at his eyes with tiny fists, Charlie said, “I have to get him home to bed.”

“It’s barely eight.”

Tipping her head to look at him, she said, “Babies go to bed earlier than we do.”

“Oh, right.” Idiot. He signaled the waitress for the bill and took care of it while Charlie cleaned up her son. Once they were ready, he stood up and Charlie lifted the little boy from the high chair.

Instantly, Jake held out both pudgy arms to Vance.

Vance stared at the boy for a long moment. The baby’s hair was practically standing on end. There was a food stain on his I love Mommy T-shirt. And his dark blue eyes were fixed on Vance as if he were Santa and the Easter Bunny rolled into one. He’d never been around babies much and hadn’t really missed the experience. Until tonight, Vance would have said he had zero interest in kids altogether.

But this baby seemed … different, somehow. Certainly quieter than the other kids in the diner. It was younger, softer and it had a dimple in its left cheek, just like its mother.

“Jake …” Charlie was clearly surprised by her son’s move and, frankly, so was Vance. But who was he to argue? He reached for the boy, tucked him against his chest and headed for the front door, Charlie trailing behind.

The baby laid his head down on Vance’s shoulder and, despite his best efforts, something inside Vance melted.

“I cannot believe I had to hear this from Justin! Did you lose your phone again?”

“No,” Charlie said, laughing. “I haven’t lost my phone in almost two years, thanks. And I was going to tell you but—”

“You were too busy dating your boss?”

Charlie had a feeling that Katie’s stunned expression was probably an echo of her own. Heck, she had lived through last night and she was still feeling the shock. After dinner the night before, Vance had hailed a cab to take Jake and her home. The surprise was when Vance had joined them for the trip.

Jake had fallen asleep on the way home, cuddled comfortably against Vance’s broad chest. Though she’d offered to take the baby from him, Vance had held the boy all the way to her apartment. And for a moment or two, Charlie had actually been envious of her son.

Being with Vance in the quiet of the cab had been … nice. They talked as the city whizzed past in a stream of subdued noise and neon color and when they were finally at the small apartment she called home, Vance had walked her to her door, handed Jake to her and said good-night.

“I can’t believe this,” Katie was saying in an awed, hushed tone. “You do know the whole building’s talking about this.”

“Thank you, Justin,” Charlie said on a sigh.

“Well, even if he hadn’t told, you never could have kept this a secret for long. You have to know that.”

“I suppose so.” She frowned and said, “I don’t think Vance even cares if people know.”

“Vance?” Katie repeated that one word in a dumbfounded tone. “You call him Vance?”

“‘Mr. Waverly’ seemed a little formal for a date.”

Her friend shook her head slowly. “A date. With your boss.”

“Are you getting past that anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so,” Katie admitted, then shifted on the stone bench to look at her. “Did he kiss you?”

Charlie’s mind slipped back to the night before. When her apartment door was open and the light from inside was slanted across Vance’s face as he looked down at her. There had been a sort of expectant hush hanging in the air between them. He bent down, she leaned in toward him and for one heart-stopping moment, she was just a breath away from being kissed. But then Jake woke up with a cry and the cab driver honked impatiently and the moment was gone. Probably for the best. She was sure that was a date Vance would never want repeated, so why indulge in any more fantasies?

“No.”

“Well, that sucks.” Frowning, the tiny redhead with bright green eyes grumbled, “And how did I miss all this excitement?”

Charlie shook her head and grinned at her friend. Katie lived in an apartment upstairs from her and most mornings they rode the subway into work together. In fact, it was Katie who had helped Charlie get the apartment in her building. “You weren’t home last night for me to tell and this morning you came in early, so we didn’t get a chance to talk on the train.”

“All true. Still. Dating your boss. It’s sort of sexy, unless,” she added with a shudder, “it’s my boss.”

“I think Vance was just being nice.”

“Uh-huh. He took you and Jake to dinner, then brought you all the way home to Queens just to be nice. Sure, I buy that.”

Frowning, Charlie took a sip of her iced tea and studied the faces of the people hurrying down Fifth Avenue. They often brought their lunch out here to sit and watch the city go by. It was hot, steamy and the lunchtime lines at the food carts were busy. Even in the summer heat, it was nice to get out of the building for a while and rejoin humanity.

Especially now, when Charlie was doing everything she could to avoid thinking about her blackmailer. She’d received another email threat just that morning and the message was burned into her brain.

No more stalling, it had said. Get those files or risk losing your son.

She was running out of time and was no closer to knowing what to do about it. She couldn’t steal files. And she couldn’t not steal them. Lose her job, lose her son. It was a vicious circle with no way of winning.

“Katie,” she said abruptly, turning her head to look at her friend, “have you heard anything about Rothschild’s lately?”

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

Katie shrugged. “A couple of people are talking about that article in the paper. You know, the bit about Ms. Richardson and Dalton Rothschild. Did they or didn’t they? But I mean, who cares? If they did, it’s not as if she would have handed him the keys to Waverly’s, you know?”

Charlie chewed at her bottom lip. “But it doesn’t look good.”

“True, but Ms. Richardson is devoted to Waverly’s. She wouldn’t put the auction house at risk.” A long pause. “Would she?”

The problem was, Charlie didn’t know. And neither did Vance apparently or he wouldn’t have asked her to listen for gossip at the house. She worried. It wasn’t a coincidence that the article had appeared in the paper the very same day she’d received that first threatening email. Whoever was behind her current trouble was no doubt also the source of that article.

What did that tell her? A lot of nothing, really.

“Hey,” Katie said, nudging Charlie with her shoulder. “Don’t take it so personally. These big companies are always having some kind of trouble. They’ll work it out.”

“You’re not worried?”

“The only thing I’m worried about is finishing the audit of last quarter’s books before my boss decides to have a stroke on my desk.”

Charlie smiled, but it was halfhearted. Thankfully, Katie didn’t seem to notice. She’d give anything to be as uninterested in what was happening as her friend apparently was.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” Katie said abruptly after a check of her phone for the time. “I’ll meet you for the subway ride home … unless you get a better offer.”

“Not much chance of that,” Charlie said. “I’ll see you later.”

She still had twenty minutes before she had to return to work and she was in no hurry to face her computer and the email program that had her so spooked. So she’d just finish her tea, and then stop by the day-care center to see Jake on her way back upstairs.

“Waiting for someone?” Vance’s voice came from behind her.

“Were you watching me?” she asked, turning to look up at him.

“Watching sounds so stalkerlike,” he said as he sat down on the stone bench beside her. He laid one arm along the back of the bench and stretched out his legs, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I prefer … admiring.”

Charlie shook her head. She’d seen so many different sides of Vance in the last week or so, she could hardly keep them all straight. He was ruthless in business, didn’t tolerate stupidity in the workplace and was gentle with her son. He laughed when she teased him and gave her looks that set fire to her insides. Now he was sprawled on a stone bench in the hot sun as if he had all the time in the world when she knew he was a workaholic.

“I saw your friend go back to work, so thought I’d join you,” he said, tipping his face up to the brilliant blue sky and the blistering sun. “Nice day.”

“It’s hot.”

He tilted his head to look at her. “Yeah, but nice anyway. What’s wrong, Charlie?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You seem a little on edge.”

“No, just thinking.”

“About?”

“Lots of things.”

“Want to narrow that down any?” he asked.

“Not really.” She wouldn’t have known where to begin. Besides, it wasn’t as if she could tell him she was being blackmailed. And she couldn’t very well tell him that whatever thoughts weren’t being taken up by the mystery threats were devoted to him. God, could this get any more complicated?

He straightened up, but kept that one arm along the bench, almost close enough to touch Charlie. She had the strangest impulse to lean back into him. But she didn’t do it. “Your friend. She works at Waverly’s?”

“Yeah,” Charlie told him, taking a sip of her tea. “She’s in Accounting.”

He nodded. “Has she said anything about the situation with Rothschild’s?”

“She doesn’t know anything,” Charlie said on a sigh. “And she’s not really worried about it, either. She thinks it’ll all work itself out.”

He laughed shortly but there was no humor in the sound. “I wish she was right. Truth is, we have no idea what Dalton is up to.”

“Ms. Richardson hasn’t said anything more?”

“No.” He frowned and looked out at the bustle of Fifth Avenue. Charlie followed his gaze and thought how odd it was that the world could go on so blithely while she was tied up in so many knots. Brilliant splashes of color sprouted from the flowers spilling from cement planters. Car horns blared, a siren wailed in the distance and a dog walker herded six dogs of varying sizes along the sidewalk.

“I had a good time last night,” he said quietly.

She laughed, keeping her gaze on the street because it was so much safer than staring into his gold-flecked brown eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

He reached out, cupped her chin and turned her face to his. Then he grinned at her and the flash in his eyes took her breath away. The man was absolutely devastating when he smiled and put his heart into it.

“Crazy,” he said as he released her. “But I really did. Not that I’m in any hurry to go back to the Zoo Diner. Appropriate name for it, by the way. But I had a good time with you.”

God, it would be so easy to let herself fall for him when he was like this. Just the touch of his hand on her skin made her yearn for more. The soft smile on his face had her wanting to kiss that delectably curved mouth. He was the most dangerous man she had ever known.

“Vance, what’re you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

She shifted on the stone bench and felt the sun-warmed heat of it soak into her. Looking into his eyes, she asked, “This. With me. Why are you being … nice?”

One eyebrow went up. She had already noticed that he did that when something caught him off guard.

“I have to have a reason for being nice?”

“It’s just—” She took a breath and blew it out. “You’re acting like you’re interested in me and I’m not sure why. Or what you expect.”

He reached over, took her hand and held it for a second or two. Long enough to get her pulse pounding and her heart rate jumping into high gear. Then he gave her hand a squeeze before letting go and said, “I like you. Is that so strange?”

“I guess not.” Though silently she was saying, Yes, it is strange. I’m your assistant. I’m not rich. I have a baby. I’m not the kind of woman you usually spend time with, so what’s going on? She had seen enough photos of him in the society pages of the newspapers to know that most of the women in his life had trust funds, rich ex-husbands or both. So why, she asked herself again, was he coming on to her?

“Good.” He stood up, checked his watch and said, “Lunch is over and I hear your boss is a real bastard about work hours.”

“Yeah.” She stood up, too. “You wouldn’t believe the stories about him.”

He stopped. “There are stories?”

“Millions of ‘em,” she quipped. “But I don’t gossip.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

There was something here, she thought. Just under their words. A feeling. A sense of something that wasn’t being said. Attraction yes, but that wasn’t all and it felt … off. He trusted her and she wasn’t going to do anything to ruin that. But at the same time, she had a threat hanging over her head that jeopardized everything in her life.

Suddenly, Charlie wanted to tell him all of it. To ask for help. But she was too afraid of what he might think. What he might do. She couldn’t lose her job. She couldn’t lose her son.

So, instead, torn with confusion and indecision, she settled for losing her mind.

“I’ll see you at the office,” she said and tossed her iced tea cup into the nearest trash can.

Then she walked alone down Fifth, part of the crowd, but separate. And she felt the heat of his gaze follow her.

“This is starting to become a habit,” Charlie said when she opened her front door to Vance three nights later. He smiled at her and Charlie’s heart did a slow flip and curl. The man was just … overpowering. Even now, when he was wearing blue jeans, a short-sleeved red shirt and a pair of boots, he exuded power and a sensual heat that should have been illegal.

Every evening since the first night he had brought her home, Vance had appeared at her door, and they’d gone for long walks with Jake. Sometimes they window-shopped, sometimes they stopped for cookies and a latte. Most of the time, they just took turns pushing Jake’s stroller and … talking.

And Charlie was getting way too used to it.

Vance leaned against the doorjamb and grinned at her. “Are you complaining?” he asked, then half turned. “Because I could leave …”

“No,” she said quickly. She wasn’t sure what was going on between her and her boss, but whatever it was, she liked it. Probably too much. “Not complaining.”

“Good.” His eyes fixed on her and Charlie’s heartbeat quickened. Then he squatted down to eye level with the toddler in his stroller. “So, Jake, where to tonight?”

The tiny boy squealed with delight and shouted “Ba! Ba!”

Vance looked up at Charlie. “He says a night at the ballet would be clichéd. He’d prefer a stroll through the park.”

“Well, then,” Charlie said, laughing, “by all means.”

Vance maneuvered the stroller out the front door and down the short set of steps to the grass. Charlie pulled the door closed behind her and locked it. Then she paused to take a quick look up and down her street. She loved it here.

Her apartment building had once been a grand old house, built to look like a Tudor-style English manor. Years ago, it had been converted into four apartments. She had the ground-floor apartment on the right side and her friend Katie was just upstairs. Charlie never would have been able to afford an apartment in this area ordinarily, but the owner was an elderly woman currently living in England and she had a soft spot for babies, so she’d made Charlie an excellent deal.

The streets in Forest Hills, Queens, were narrow and decked with trees that looked as though they’d been there for centuries. Her neighbors were quiet but friendly and Manhattan was just a train ride away. But here, New York moved more slowly and Charlie could almost convince herself that she was living in a small town again. It was a perfect place to raise Jake. She looked at Vance smiling at her son and thought, at the moment, everything was perfect.

“Where are you guys going tonight?” a woman’s voice called out and shattered the quiet.

Charlie sighed, turned and looked up. Katie was hanging out her living room window, grinning down at them. She had probably been haunting her window just waiting for Vance to show up. Charlie couldn’t really blame her. This was all so odd, so out of the ordinary …

“To the park,” Vance answered, then picked up the stuffed dog Jake had tossed.

“Have a good time,” Katie said, a teasing tone in her voice. Then she gave Charlie a knowing wink before darting back into her apartment. No doubt, Katie would be turning up with a bottle of wine and a dozen questions later tonight. Charlie only wished she had a few answers for her.

Charlie turned to Vance. “You realize that Katie has told everyone at Waverly’s about your coming to see me every night.”

He shrugged. “Do you care?”

She should, Charlie knew. Getting involved with Vance Waverly was probably a huge mistake. But looking into his eyes, she knew she couldn’t regret a moment of this—whatever it was. Every evening, when the light was just slipping away, he showed up to spend time with her and Jake. And every evening, she told herself not to expect him. Not to look for him. But she did anyway and when she saw him, her heart got a little more involved. How could it not? He was so good with Jake. And so much fun to talk to. And when he took her hand in his, she felt … treasured.

Silly.

“No,” she said firmly, “I don’t care.”

“Good.” He smiled at her as if she’d given him the perfect answer. “So let’s go.”

They walked a few blocks east and the world changed perceptibly. As lovely as her street was and as much as she loved it, Charlie always felt a little twinge of … not envy, exactly, just a bit wistful when she walked through Forest Hills Gardens. Exclusive mansions sprawled behind wide, manicured lawns and what looked like private forests.

“I haven’t been in this neighborhood since I was a kid,” Vance mused.

“You lived here?” Charlie couldn’t imagine living in a more beautiful spot. She could practically see Jake growing up on these gorgeous streets, riding his bike up and down circular driveways, climbing the majestic trees. Of course, that was a completely unrealistic daydream—but what was the point of having ordinary dreams?

“No, a friend of my father’s did,” Vance said. “We used to visit him a lot. Funny, I haven’t thought of this place in years. But it’s really nice, isn’t it? And close to the city.”

“It’s perfect is what it is,” Charlie said, with a little sigh of pleasure.

“Yeah?” He stopped pushing the stroller and looked at her. “If you had to pick, which house would you buy?”

She took a deep breath and smiled. “It wouldn’t be easy to choose, but I do have a favorite,” she admitted, because she had played this little game with herself every time she took Jake for a walk down there. There were brick mansions and bungalow styles. There was even a home with a red Spanish tile roof. But the house she loved had stood out for her from the beginning. Hooking her arm through his, she gave Vance a tug and said, “Come on. It’s a little farther down.”

Halfway down the block, she stopped. Giving his arm a squeeze, she said, “That’s my house. Well,” she added with a half shrug, “the owners don’t know it, of course.”

She always found the chance to walk past the house she considered her dream home. It was like an English cottage only bigger. It was three stories high with sloped roofs and dark red shutters on the windows. There were brilliant splashes of pink and yellow flowers crouched around the long porch, and the wide double front doors were arched, like a storybook castle.

“It’s beautiful,” Vance said.

“It really is,” she agreed, and met his gaze only to find him staring at her not the house. “All it needs is a porch swing.”

“You’d like a swing?”

“Oh, yes. That would be nice,” she mused, staring at the house for another long moment. “Sitting outside, watching the sun go down, saying hi to your neighbors …” Her voice trailed off as she turned her head to look up at him.

A soft, warm wind raced down the street. From a few houses down came the rhythmic thumping of a basketball, and a dog barked just because he wanted to be heard. The light in the sky was easing into twilight and Jake was in his stroller, laughing and talking to himself.

It was a perfect moment.

Vance leaned toward her. Charlie went up on her toes, her gaze drifting from his eyes to his mouth and back again. Her heartbeat was pounding and the world around her seemed to take a breath and hold it in anticipation.

His mouth was just an inch from hers when Jake tossed his stuffed animal and then howled in frustration. The baby’s shout broke the spell growing between Charlie and Vance and she could only be grateful for it.

Infatuation was one thing. Allowing herself to make a fool of herself over a man she would never be able to have was something else entirely.

Quickly, she picked up the stuffed dog, handed it back to Jake and told Vance, “We should get Jake home.”

“I suppose it is getting late,” Vance murmured.

She flashed him a glance, then looked away quickly. It was already too late, Charlie thought. Her heart was involved whether she wanted to admit it or not.

A week later, Vance was wound too tight and seriously on edge. The only one he hadn’t lost his temper with was Charlie. Which was ironic, considering that she was the one who had his insides tied into knots that only got tighter with every passing second.

The woman was getting to him and that had not been in the plan. Every damn day around her, his blood ran hotter, his mind clouded a little further and the idea of having her dug claws of need ever deeper into him.

Add to that the fact that he knew damn well she was lying to him about something. They’d spent nearly every night together. Oh, not in bed. More’s the pity, he told himself. But at dinner, taking Jake for walks or just sitting around her small, tidy apartment in Queens.

Hell, he was going to Queens for her. What was next? Brooklyn? At the thought, he jumped up from his desk chair and stared down onto the tree-lined street below Waverly’s.

Charlie was antsy. Nervous. And getting worse every day. She checked through the daily mail as if afraid of what she might find. She jumped when he entered a room and just yesterday, one of the security guards reported that Charlie had been in the records room, where all the old files and reports were kept. Why the hell would she be down there? And why hadn’t she told him? What was she hiding?

His gut told him something was off with Charlie. Another part of his anatomy told him he shouldn’t care. His mind was stuck somewhere in the middle.

When the office intercom buzzed, he stabbed at the button, focusing all his frustration on it. “What is it?”

“Jeez,” Charlie said. “Bite my head off.”

He rubbed one hand across his face and shook his head even as he smiled to himself. It hadn’t taken long for Charlie to feel at ease in the boss-assistant relationship. “Sorry. A lot on my mind. What is it?”

“Security’s on line 2 for you,” she said a little breathlessly.

“Right.” He didn’t think about the fact that she sounded nervous. Instead, he punched a button on his phone and said, “Waverly.”

“Mr. Waverly, this is Carl in Security. You asked us to let you know if anything out of the ordinary happened.”

“Yeah?” Hell, he’d had the whole place on alert for the past couple of weeks in hopes that they might catch whoever might be trying to sell them out to Rothschild’s. Now that they had something, though, Vance wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear what was coming.

Carl said, “We had the IT department keeping a tight lock-down on sensitive areas—in general, setting up their version of alarms. They alerted us to the fact that someone in your office was trying to access secure files this morning. And it wasn’t from your computer.”

This morning, when Vance had been at a meeting with a potential client. When Charlie was alone in the office.

“What files?” He shot a look at the closed door separating him from Charlie. Was she worried, knowing that he was talking to Security?

“Apparently,” Carl told him, “they were older records on minor auctions. According to the IT guys, this person didn’t get to anything important. A new firewall’s going up as we speak so everything’s secure.” Carl paused and asked, “Is there anything you’d like us to handle?”

“No.” His brain was racing and anger was beginning to churn inside. He needed to take care of this himself. He needed to look Charlie in the eye when he confronted her, because only then would he know for sure if she was being honest. Her face gave away everything she was thinking, feeling; he’d already learned that much about her. And hell, for all he knew, it hadn’t been her. She might have been in another part of the building and someone else had slipped in to use her computer just to incriminate her.

He wasn’t going to assume she was guilty of anything. Not yet, anyway. But he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the notion that Charlie was a traitor.

“I’ll take care of it,” he told Carl and hung up a second later. All he had to do now was figure out how.