Chapter Six

Peyton typed notes on her device as the magazine rep chattered through her phone earpiece. She’d put in several calls to GQ early in her time at the company, but they’d blown her off. Apparently, a couple years and building Xavier’s image had done wonders. Not only were they interested, but the promotion they were proposing could kick-start a whole new rash of donations for his charity.

She bit her lip. “When were you looking to do an interview?”

Daniel made a whining sound like he was thinking too hard. He had a loud voice, and though she’d never met him face-to-face, he had aw-shucks written all over him. “The sooner the better. I was looking to have this done for next month’s issue. Initially, we were seeking January, but with the big veterans benefit weekend coming up in October, I shifted things around. How’s next week?”

“Let me check.” She paged through Xavier’s appointment itinerary. “Tuesday looks good. How much time do you want and are you in need of photos?”

“We’d do our own shoot. After the interview, most likely. This is a five-page spread, so allot me at least a few hours to chat with him.” Typing clicked in the background while her jaw dropped at the space they were talking. “I also want to sit down with you.”

She straightened in her seat. “Why?”

“You’re one of the closest people to him. We’d like some quotes to place throughout.”

Sitting back in her chair, she strummed her fingers on her desk. “Let me discuss that with Mr. Gaines. Call it a maybe for now. We also reserve the right to refuse to answer any questions I’m uncomfortable with.”

“I’m told you’re present for all his interviews, so I was expecting as much.” More typing. “Tuesday at ten? How’s that? I’ll come to you. We’ll discuss the shoot’s location at that time.”

Xavier knocked on her door.

She waved him in and stood. “Bring your photographer along. We can find somewhere in the building. Mr. Gaines isn’t fond of shoots.”

“Works for me if the photographer is good with it.” Daniel’s voice dipped an octave. “I’m looking very forward to this, Miss Smoke.”

She laughed. “I’ll just bet you are. We are, as well. I’ll see you Tuesday, Daniel.”

Peyton tapped her earpiece to disconnect and looked at Xavier from across her desk. “You are never going to freakin’ believe this. Guess who’s getting a five page spread in GQ. And just in time to boost hype for the Fallen Veterans charity weekend.”

His smile was stiff, as it had been all morning. “Good work.” He set a long garment box on a chair and took a seat. “You look no worse for wear after your big birthday weekend.”

Concern twisted her belly. Utter and sheer mortification heated her cheeks. She’d all but thrown herself at him in her bathroom, and he was obviously out of sorts about it. Other than a couple drinks, she had no idea what had come over her.

“I’m totally embarrassed.”

His golden gaze cut to hers with a hardening of his jaw.

She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him angry. But he didn’t seem just mad. Confusion and unease radiated in his eyes, too. And...shoot. She’d gone and upset their very well choreographed unit. Somehow, she had to put things right, no matter how turned on she’d been.

Peyton, honey...

She shook her head, and his low, coarse voice from memory. “I hope I didn’t do anything too humiliating. I can’t seem to remember anything after my second drink.” She hated the white lie, but he needed to think balance had been restored. Hopefully, he’d chalk the whole thing up to drunken confusion.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a beat, then his shoulders sagged. A grin split his handsome face, and her girly parts wept. “You were as charming as always. Nothing to concern yourself about.”

Just like that, they were normal again. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or mourn.

“I brought your dress for Saturday. It just arrived.” He pointed to the box beside him.

“Ooh. Let’s have a look.” She rounded her desk.

Since event apparel fell into the category of work expenses, and she shuddered at the designer price tags, he’d been picking out her evening wear for benefits the whole time she’d worked for Gaines Industries. And he never allowed her to wear the same one twice. She had a closet filled with thousands of dollars in garments going to waste. He had great freakin’ taste. To date, there hadn’t been one dress she’d disliked.

Lifting the lid to the black box, she gasped. “Oh, X. It’s lovely.” Pale pink silk. Saturday’s charity was for breast cancer research and, thus, the color choice. Carefully, she removed it to check out the design. Strapless, it was an imperial cut and floor-length. “I don’t know how you always get my size right, too.”

“Call it a gift. Mathematical mind.”

Laughing, she folded the dress back in the box and reset the lid. “I’m sure Gloria at the boutique is of some help.”

The low rumble of his laugh skated across her skin. “Busted. For the record, I do choose the dress myself.”

Reclaiming her seat, she sighed. “Quick question. GQ wants to interview me, as well. Said they want quotes to use.”

He shrugged. “I trust you.”

“A photo shoot is required, too.”

“I heard that much.” He frowned. “I’ll deal. You’ll be there?”

She nodded. “For all of it.”

“Then, I’m good.” He rubbed his jaw, gaze drifting like it did when lost in thought. “Do you want to get together Friday night? We can go over the press conference for next week.”

If conferences regarding the government contracts were scheduled, she often prepped him thoroughly beforehand outside the office. It made him less nervous. “I can’t. I have a date.”

He reared. His gaze dipped to her necklace, his lips parting as if he was having trouble getting air.

Crap. What was wrong? “X?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. Two phrases I almost never hear you utter, and you just said both. I’m waiting for the sky to fall.”

“Ha. It’s Justin, so I doubt anything will come of it.” Between drink one and two, he’d asked her out on her birthday. Though surprised, she hadn’t seen the harm.

“The bartender?”

“Yeah. I’ll come over on Sunday and prep you then.” Her earpiece beeped once, indicating a call from the front desk. “Hold on.” She tapped the headset. “What’s up, Fern?”

“Mrs. Gaines is on the line.”

“Does she want me or Mr. Gaines?”

“She asked for you.”

Hm. “Patch her through. Thank you.” She looked at Xavier. “Your mom is calling me.”

Leaning back in the chair, he shrugged in a what-else-is-new.

“Hi, Elaine. It’s Peyton. How are you?”

“I’m great, dear.” Her smooth, affectionate tone always hit Peyton right in her breastbone. Both Xavier’s parents had been utterly kind to her from the first time they’d met, and treated her like family instead of their son’s employee. For a woman who had no relatives left, it meant a lot. “I was wondering if you both could come up for the weekend to discuss the details for the benefit?”

Fallen Veterans was technically Xavier’s organization, but it was run by his parents ever since his father had retired. Peyton pulled up their schedule. “We can’t this weekend, but the following is open. He’s sitting right here. Let me ask.” She relayed the plans to him and he nodded approval. “His majesty says okay.”

Xavier narrowed his eyes playfully as Elaine’s smooth laugh filled Peyton’s ear. “Perfect. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me, too. Can I ride the horses? Can I?” The Gaines’ had three geldings on their vast estate, and Peyton, having never been around a horse before visiting Napa, was in love with them.

Xavier smothered a laugh with his hand.

“Of course, you can. Now, make my son leave your office. I have something secret to discuss.”

Peyton grinned. “Oh, how James Bond of you. Xavier, go away now.”

Obviously confused, he rose. She waved her hand to stop him and pointed to the chair. With a make-up-your-mind scowl, he sat back down.

“Okay, he’s gone. What’s the secret?” She grinned at Xavier’s eye roll.

“Well, the first week of November is his birthday, and I’d like to throw him a surprise party. He turns thirty this year. I was thinking his house as the venue. He’d be comfortable there.”

Oh. God. In. Heaven. He was going to kill her. Dead.

She hesitantly met Xavier’s eyes. “A surprise birthday party at his house?”

He paled seven shades. Eyes bugging, he shook his head.

She winced. “What a lovely idea, but he’s not real big on surprises. Or parties.” Or people in general, really. He wasn’t fond of acknowledging his birthday, either. He’d put up a stink when she’d gotten him gifts.

Undeterred, Elaine pffed. “I know, but just something small. Family and friends.”

He was okay around family, but he didn’t have many friends that weren’t employed by him. “An intimate family and friends gathering?”

Xavier made a slashing motion and bared teeth, mouthing no way in hell.

“Why are you repeating everything I say?”

She rubbed her forehead. “Um, I’m just taking notes.”

“Of course, you are. You’re so efficient.” Elaine gave a pleasant sigh. “I have to run, dear. We can finalize plans when you drive up. See you soon.”

Peyton opened her mouth, but the line was dead. So was she if Xavier’s expression was any indication. “Remember, manslaughter is a crime.”

Jaw ticking, he glared at her.

She pouted. It was so, so very wrong she found him sexy as heck angry. All fierce and…rawr. “She came to me. It wasn’t my idea. And I’ll make sure she doesn’t go overboard.”

Not so much as an eye tick.

“Come on, X.” She batted her lashes. “I’ll get you a really awesome present. And we can work on your surprise face.” She demonstrated with a shocked expression, waving her hands.

He closed his eyes and growled. “Cute won’t save you.” He leveled his gaze back on her. At her intensified pout, he groaned. “Stop with the puppy eyes.”

She grinned because the vein in his forehead had finally stopped bulging.

Standing, he buttoned his suit coat. “This is unforgivable.” His sullen expression relayed he was kidding, but she still felt bad.

“You know I can’t say no to your mom.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You say no a hundred times a day to a hundred different people. Interview requests, invitations, donations, etcetera. And you make them think it was their privilege to be denied.”

“But they’re not your mom.” She slapped the desk. “She’s all nice and sneaky and...nice.” Deflating, she dropped her chin in her hand. “Have I ever let you down? I promise, I’ll keep her reined.”

He grunted. One eyebrow quirked. “By what? Saying no?”

“Touché. At least you have people who love you enough to care about throwing you a party.” He had no idea how lucky he was to have family, and a wonderful one, at that.

Once upon a time, she and Mark had wanted to start one. His relatives refused to talk to her after the funeral, either because they blamed her for his suicide or it was too difficult to be around her. What she wouldn’t give to have someone besides Kate. Holidays sucked all by herself and it was rather pathetic. Nights. Weekends. Yada.

Loneliness clutched her chest.

Like a switch, all tension left Xavier’s frame, and he sighed. “Shit, Peyton. You’re right. I’m sorry.” His brows slammed together and stark, raw emotion filled his eyes. “I...”

Great. Pity from him. “Forget I said anything. I’ll find a way to slam the brakes on anyone but family for the party, okay?”

“Peyton...”

Her earpiece beeped twice, meaning an outside call not routed through reception. “Damn, I’m popular today.” She tapped the headset. “Peyton Smoke.”

“Hi, Miss Smoke. It’s Carson from downstairs. I’ve got something on that email you queried about. Should I come up to you?”

She snapped her fingers to get Xavier’s attention and stop him from leaving. “No, Mr. Gaines and I will meet you in your office. We’ll be down in a few minutes.” Disconnecting, she looked at him. “That was IT. They have info about the email.” She chewed her lip. “He called me direct instead of through the front desk. The staff never do that.”

Mouth firm, he pulled his cell from his breast pocket and summoned Joseph to meet them downstairs. “Let’s go.”

Her stomach was a tangled jumble of nerves in the elevator. She’d thought the email was just another line in nonsense, but her gut said something else now. Awareness crept up her neck, making her hair stand on end.

Xavier set a reassuring hand low on her back to guide her to the floor. “It’ll be all right.”

She nodded and strode toward Carson’s office deep in the tech department. Beeps and mouse clicks echoed in the room, and the faint scent of burnt coffee clung to the air as they passed many cubicles. Joseph and Carson waited for them just inside the entryway to his office.

Xavier shut the door behind them as they crammed into the small space littered with folders and computer gear. “What have you got?”

“So...” Carson ran his fingers through his longish brown hair, the motion stretching his polo shirt across his round belly. “We know the email came from our server. It had the distinct @ corporation address. The email pinged Miss Smoke’s box at seven p.m. The account was created at six-thirty, then promptly deleted at seven-o-five.”

He sat and faced the desk, his fingers flying over the keyboard. A black screen with white code popped onto the monitor. “It took me awhile of digging, but IP showed which desktop the email originated.”

Xavier’s hard gaze zipped over the screen as if he were reading a novel. “That can’t be right.”

“It is.” Carson sighed. “This code hasn’t been tampered with. The email came from Miss Smoke’s office.”

“What?” She stepped back and her knees wobbled. “I don’t understand.” The room spun, and she couldn’t draw breath. Someone had been in her office? With all her files and personal things? Violated, she ran a hand over her stomach.

Xavier cupped her shoulder and squeezed in a silent show of support. “Our offices are locked at the end of the day. In fact, our whole floor is shut down. You need an elevator key to access it.”

What about the obvious? “I didn’t send that email.”

Carson nodded. “I know. Which is why I went to security and looked at the digital feed.” His fingers flew over the keys again. A grainy black and white video popped on the screen. “This is from the camera above the elevator.” He pointed. “Note that it covers most of the reception lobby and the hallway to your offices. Watch. This is time stamped at six twenty-five.”

The semi-dark room showed a figure at the bottom of the screen walk off the elevator and down the hall. They used a key to enter Peyton’s office. Recognition dawned, and Peyton shook her head. No. It couldn’t be.

“It’s dark and hard to make out the person.” Carson forwarded the video. “Now, this is at seven ten.”

The same person walked out of her office, relocked the door, and headed toward the elevator. This time, clearly in view.

Carson paused the feed. “There’s your culprit.”

The air punched from her lungs. “Oh God.” She looked at Xavier, whose gaze had hardened at the screen. “Fern? She wouldn’t do something like that. She’s worked for you as long as Joseph.”

Xavier’s gaze cut to Carson. “Get me copies of this.”

“Already done, sir.” Carson handed him a folder. “That has the codes, a copy of the email, the time stamps, and a disc of the security feed.”

“Thank you. You did great work. Keep this quiet, please.”

Carson nodded.

Xavier passed Joseph the evidence folder and guided Peyton out of the office, his movements stiff. Joseph followed them onto the elevator. On numb legs, she watched him insert a key into the lock and stall the car with them inside.

He glared at his bodyguard. “What the actual fuck?”

Joseph shook his head. “I don’t know.” Gaze dialed to holy-shit, he looked at Peyton. “Has Fern said or done anything to give you a reason for this?”

“No!” Tears brimmed her eyes, and she choked. “I went to her daughter’s Christmas concert last year. She’s always been nothing but sweet to me. I mean, she’s a little weird, but I never felt threatened by her.” She wiped her cheeks with a shaking hand. “Just this morning, she bought me a latte.”

Even if this had been some sick prank, the betrayal sliced deep.

Xavier pressed his palms to his eyes. “This is going to be a nightmare.” He slapped his hands to his thighs. “Never mind the inner office gossip, but if the press catches wind my personal secretary was escorted out of the building by police—”

“Police?” She eyed the two of them. “You’re going to have her arrested?”

“Damn right. She threatened you.” Xavier’s enraged glare pinned her in place.

Knowing she’d never talk him out of it, she chewed her lip. “I’ll deal with the media. I’ll send out a statement. Human resources, too, for within the company.”

“I don’t want you giving the press a statement.” His gaze slid to hers. “The email was sent to you. If there’s a leak about the details, a Gaines Industries explanation will have more weight from me.”

She blew out a shaky breath. “Okay. I’ll prepare something—”

“I’ll deal with it.”

But…he never wrote his own statements.

Nodding, she glanced at the floor, her head swimming. Xavier was set to blow and a co-worker she considered a friend had sent her a heinously violent note. She couldn’t form a tangible thought to save her life.

Rubbing his bald head, Joseph sighed. “In the mean time, Fern needs to be handled.”