Aftershock. Part 10

The tension left my shoulders. "I do, too."

"I'm concerned for you...and I have my reservations about Jackson...but really-" she swiveled her chair to face me directly "-the problem is with me. I'm projecting my own experience onto you."

"You mean Ian."

Her red mouth curved without humor. "It must be obvious that I loved him. He was my whole world. If you'd asked me then, I would have told you that he'd never betray me. That he didn't have it in him. I would've told you he loved me too much to do anything like that."

"What happened?" I had never broached the subject before, but now that she'd opened the door, I was dying to know what had helped shaped my boss into the woman she was today.

"We were working on a deal. The negotiations had been tough, but I had the advantage and Ian let me run with it." A thoughtful wrinkle appeared on her otherwise smooth forehead. "Unfortunately, sometimes I get so focused on the hunt itself that I forget to pay attention to my prey."

She looked out the windows at the Manhattan skyline. "I was too confident and I pushed for too much without giving enough in return. Worse, I made the man on the other side of the negotiating table feel insignificant and powerless. Somewhere along the way, he decided he'd do anything to put me in my place."

"What place?"

"Behind Ian, instead of beside him. I think Bruce was insulted that Ian had him doing business with me. I don't think he ever saw me as Ian's partner, just Ian's piece of a.s.s, so that's what he used against us."

"How?"

"He kept setting up recurring meetings with me, telling me he needed clarification on different points or wanted to discuss alternatives. We met in the restaurants of the hotels he was staying in at the time, just as you and I did with the Williams twins at the Four Seasons. It wasn't until later that I understood he'd been creating a paper trail to prove he and I had been having an affair."

"Oh, Lei." I felt a little of her remembered suffering; her tone of voice carried so much pain. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, and maybe that was the wrong choice. Ian is p.r.o.ne to jealousy, so he's especially vulnerable in that regard. I refused to confirm or deny his accusations because I was so hurt that he'd given them any credence at all. I told him to figure it out for himself, and apparently I was tried and convicted."

"Jeez. I'm sorry."

She shrugged off my sympathy, but gave me a rueful smile. "It's been over a long time now."

I drummed my fingers on the armrests of my chair as I warred with myself about discussing Jax with someone who didn't trust him. I valued Lei's opinion, but it wasn't objective when it came to Jackson Rutledge.

In the end, though, I told her because of her bias. I wanted an extreme, worst-case-scenario opinion.

Lei sat forward as I spoke, and by the time I finished, she'd set her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. "So he's withholding information from you. People keep secrets for two main reasons-to protect themselves or to protect someone else. Do you have any thoughts about which direction Jackson is moving in?"

"I'm not sure. With everything else we've faced, I could see him trying to...shield me from something. But this... I can't help feeling like he didn't want me to know my family was being used to further a Rutledge agenda."

"If that's the case, it probably won't be the last time. How do you feel about that?"

"p.i.s.sed. How can he say he loves me, and then do things that I have a problem with?"

"That's a question you have to ask him. Sooner rather than later."

Lei had just reaffirmed what I already knew, but it was still valuable to have my position confirmed.

Now I just had to prepare myself for what I'd do once I got the answer.

When my lunch break rolled around, I checked my smartphone and saw I'd missed a callback from Deanna. I headed to one of Savor's conference rooms for privacy, pa.s.sing LaConnie, who was arranging a new display of branded spices and seasonings on the shelf behind her reception desk.

She waved as I pa.s.sed, and I complimented her on the kick-a.s.s red pantsuit she was wearing.

I was smiling when I entered the same conference room where I'd taken Jax when he visited Savor. That memory helped alleviate some of the nervous antic.i.p.ation I felt when I dialed Deanna's number.

"Gianna," she greeted me. "Glad we got past the game of phone tag."

"Me, too. How are you?"

"Excellent. Hang on. Let me move somewhere more quiet." A moment later, the background noise of multiple people talking at once disappeared. "So I looked into the Rutledges, focusing on Leslie Rutledge as you suggested. You've got great instincts-I hit a gold mine with that one."

"Oh?" A shiver of unease slid down my spine.

"The family had her committed to a sanitarium for a few months. It was after she was released that she disappeared from public view. There were some rumors back then, nothing concrete, but now I've got a reliable source."

My gut twisted. I started pacing.

"I can't confirm what kind of mental illness she had," Deanna went on, "but the real story here is that she was expendable. She had a problem and they packed her up, out of sight."

"You don't know that!" I thought of the photos of Leslie in Jax's living room. He hadn't forgotten her.

"Uh, yeah. I do. Just a minute." The receiver was m.u.f.fled, then, "Anyway. More details will emerge after the story breaks. They always do."

I straightened, panicked. "What do you mean 'after the story breaks'?"

"It's news and about to be public knowledge."

"That wasn't the deal!"

"What deal?" Deanna shot back. "We didn't have one beyond you paying me for my time, which I won't be collecting on because this is going to pay off in other ways."

"You can't run this story!" I hissed, circling the conference table with angry strides.

"It's already done, Gianna. Your name isn't mentioned, so don't worry about that. Listen, I've got to go. I just wanted to give you a head's up and say thanks. Take care, all right?"

She hung up and my smartphone disconnected before I'd even lowered the phone from my ear.

I left the conference room in a rage, so p.i.s.sed I could hardly see straight. I was as furious with myself as I was with Deanna. How could I not have foreseen the possibility that she'd use the information she found?

"Your man knows how to treat you right," LaConnie said as I pa.s.sed her again. "I just set another delivery on your desk."

Cringing inwardly, I felt the weight of guilt on my shoulders. The sight of pure white lilies next to my phone d.a.m.n near closed off my throat.

I plucked off the attached card.

I'm waving the white flag of surrender.

I love you, baby. We'll talk tonight.

Jax had signed the card, but his signature blurred amid my anxious tears.

Worse than the violation of his privacy, I feared that such personal revelations about his mother would hurt him deeply. Her pictures in the living room of our home told me he had cared for her, but his reluctance to talk about her suggested the topic was painful.

And now the world would know about her, and I was directly to blame.

I touched a velvet-soft petal. "We've screwed up something perfect," I said softly.

Sinking into my chair, I started to plan how best to tell him what I'd done.

I had a good handle on how I wanted to open the subject of Deanna's story when the elevators on the penthouse floor opened and I stepped out into chaos.

I paused, shocked. The front door was open and through it I could see a dozen people in suits, pacing in my living room with smartphones pressed to their ears.

The queasiness I'd felt all day worsened until I thought I might be sick right there in the foyer.

When I crossed the threshold into the apartment, I looked for Jax. I couldn't find him, but Parker was there in front of the entertainment center, his gaze on the photos of his late wife. He would have stood out from the melee on sheer presence, but unmoving amid the frenetic swarm of visitors, he riveted me.

He turned his head toward me. I watched as the recognition of my presence set in. He started toward me.

"What's going on?" I asked, although I feared I already knew the answer.

"We're trying to put out a fire. I'm sorry we've taken over, but Jackson prefers to handle some issues from his home office."

"Is there anything I can do?"

His mouth, so like Jax's, twisted wryly. "I could use a drink. Something strong, preferably."

"Okay." I looked around him to the console by the window where crystal decanters held the world's finest liquors. I frowned when I saw only a vase of flowers atop it. "I'll get you something."

"Thanks. I'll put your purse in your bedroom," he offered, holding out his hand for it.

As he set off down the hallway, I maneuvered through the men and women wandering around the sunken living room. Bits and pieces of conversations washed over me.

"...confirm the source..."

"...should consider possible defamation and slander liabilities..."

"...a declaration of war against the Rutledge family isn't wise..."

My hands were shaking when I opened the doors of the console. The crystal decanters were tucked neatly inside, but they were empty. I made my way back to the kitchen, where I discovered an empty wine fridge.

Confused, I faced Parker when he returned. "Looks like we're out of everything."

"I couldn't find anything, either."

"I'm sorry. I'll call the concierge. Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

He touched my arm. "I'll take care of it. Why don't you hole up in your room and get out of this mess?"

"I feel like I should help somehow."

"Just take care of my son," he murmured. "Leave this to me."

My mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. I didn't know what to say. I ended up nodding and heading down the hallway, pa.s.sing my room and going to Jax's home office instead. He was alone in there, standing in front of the window with his arms crossed as he barked at someone through a headset.

"We need those records. Yes, I understand that and I don't give a s.h.i.t.... Don't think whatever this is won't blow back on you, too. Right. I'll be at this number." He tapped the earpiece, then pivoted abruptly, stilling when he saw me standing in front of his desk. "Gia..."

He fell silent. Shoving a hand through his hair, he cursed softly. He looked worn and edgy. He'd ditched his jacket and tossed it over a chair in the corner. His vest was unb.u.t.toned, as was the b.u.t.ton at the throat of his shirt. His tie was loosened and the shadow of evening stubble on his tight jaw gave him a dangerous appeal.

"Hi," I said quietly.

"Baby." He sighed. "I'm sorry about this. Something's come up and we've got to get a handle on it."

"What is it?"

"We got a tip today about an article that's supposedly going out tomorrow, and I'm trying to get details about the reporter and her piece."

I swallowed hard. "Deanna Johnson."

Jax froze. "You know her?"

"She used to date Vincent."

"f.u.c.k." He scowled. "I need all of her contact info-email, mobile and home numbers, address."

"All right." I stepped closer. "Jax, we have to talk."

"I know, and we will. But I can't right now."

"This is my fault."

He came to me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "No. I should've talked to you about Ted and-"

His smartphone started ringing on his desk.

"I have to get this." He tapped his earpiece. "Rutledge," he answered briskly, then, "That's a start. How quickly can you get them to me?"

He turned his back to me, and I clenched my fists. I left the room to fetch my smartphone to get the information he'd asked for. I was just going to have to blurt it out before he cut me off. I hated to blindside him like that, but he needed to know.

With my cell in hand, I headed back to his office and closed the door behind me. He was off the phone and sitting at his desk, reading something on his monitor.

"I have the information you wanted." I walked up to him. "Deanna's written an article about your mother. About how the family had her committed to an inst.i.tution."

His head snapped back as if I'd hit him physically. "You talked to her?"