The Professional Page 18

  I moved out of the doorway and took a seat in the great-big parlor, pondering this unbelievably convenient piece of information. None of my jobs had ever gone this smoothly. It was like I was being tempted by some unseen spirit. I had a straight path right to the Crown only now I couldn’t steal it. I mean, I could steal it, but that would effectively destroy my relationship with Cora. It wasn’t worth it. I’d already lied to her enough.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t just sneak in later tonight. Just to take a look, of course.

  * * *

  With the excitement of seeing the Crown in the imminent future occupying my mind, the rest of the day passed even more slowly than the ones before. It didn’t help that Cora was going to be gone until late, so there wasn’t even the chance of seeing her around the manor at dinnertime to distract me. Instead, all I could do was dwell on the piece waiting for me in the chapel. As the midnight hour drew closer and closer, I could practically feel its weight in my hands.

  Finally it was time. I didn’t bother wearing a mask - blatantly incriminating if I were caught - and wore my black suit instead. Then I snuck out of my room and crept upstairs to the servants’ quarters. On the other side of the bedroom doors, the essential staffers slept. I was lucky to have gotten my own room. I wondered if Jackie was in there somewhere, kept awake by snores. I chuckled at the visual and then entered the hidden passage that Cora had saved me from last week.

  I moved carefully through the walls, enjoying the jaunt. I was serious about going straight, but even so, I knew I was going to miss these moments. Going out in the dark, risking everything, feeling all my senses heightened. I tried to relish it while it lasted. This was going to be the last time.

  Once I made my way downstairs, I was extra careful not to let even a footfall sound through the empty house. In the great-big parlor, I spied through a peephole on the guards Micah placed at the door outside the chapel. They looked bored, but more or less alert. I almost felt bad for the fiery man. He’d have had a heart attack if he knew how easily this room could be penetrated.

  Careful not to make a sound, I pushed aside the wall and entered the chapel. It was lit once again with that ethereal glow of city lights through stained glass. There, on the altar, glittering in a spotlight made from the towers outside, was the Crown of Athea.

  I approached reverently. It was stunning in person, beautiful of course with a body of spun silver, a spiderweb capturing jewels in its tangle, but even more so because of its rich and unique history. I was one of a handful of people in the world to ever be alone with it.

  I climbed the stairs and looked down at it for a long while. It called to me and my fingers itched to pluck it from its velvet cushion and run for the hills. But no, I couldn’t. I was only here to ensure my future with Cora. The Crown didn’t matter.

  Outside the door I heard the mumble of voices. The guards were talking to someone. No time to linger. I quickly did what I’d come to do and ran lightly down the aisle, closing the wall just as the door opened and someone entered. I almost continued down the passage, but then I paused. Who the hell would be coming here so late at night? Who would they even let in here alone at this hour?

  I followed the wall until I found a peephole. I peered into it and saw a very familiar shape walking down the aisle to the altar.

  It was Scott. I was instantly brought back to when Cora and I had hidden in this very spot while Scott creeped around the house last week. Of course, that time he’d had an excuse, patrolling the halls for signs of trouble. Now, though, this room was protected and watched. What could he be doing here?

  I watched him carefully as he approached the Crown. He stood at the top of the stairs, looking at it for a long while, and I had the eerie realization that he must appear just as I had only moments before. Then he did something I didn’t expect. He reached down and plucked the Crown from its cushion, holding it up to the light from the windows and examining it. I heard myself suck in breath. Did he not know how many millions of dollars worth of history he was handling in meaty hands?

  Then I saw his face, the serious, tense expression, the way he held it like it was the most valuable object in the world, and I realized that he knew exactly what he was holding. He knew and he was prepared to take it for his own.

  Scott, the stern-faced security guard, the recent hire to the mansion just before me, was Midas.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Cora

  I sat on my bed and stared down at the file for a long while after reading it. There had to be some kind of explanation. The Alex described in these pages was similar enough to the one I knew - there was a long career of bodyguarding (feat. Sarah Summers), an apartment in Manhattan, a height of six foot four with eyes labeled “Grn” and hair “Blk”. But that was where the similarities ended and the blatant falsehoods began.

  Well, I couldn’t quite prove the first was a lie, but still, it was odd enough to make my eyes pause on the page. The paper said that Alex had gotten a degree in Security Management from NYU five years ago. For some reason, I would never have considered that Alex was a college graduate. It was confusing. I didn’t see a man like Alex spending four years in a classroom.

  The next bit of information flew directly in the face of something he’d told me. Unlike the college degree that was never mentioned, Alex had told me a story or two about his childhood growing up in Brooklyn, making me laugh with wild tales of him and his delinquent friends. But the papers said he grew up in southern Michigan and I had to read it three times to fully comprehend.

  But perhaps the worst part of the file, the only thing that really couldn’t be explained away or cleared up, was a single sentence at the bottom of page two. Parents, Bill and Sharron Flynn, are retired and live in Kalamazoo, MI.

  That sentence was what was really keeping me sitting there on the bed, racking my brain for some kind of explanation as to why Alex would lie to me about his parents being dead long before there was any chance at a relationship between us. I thought back to when he’d told me, that first morning when we were running through Central Park and he was still an object of my scorn. But for a brief moment there, when I found out that we shared the loss of a parent at a developmental age, the icy layer of indifference had chipped a bit.

  Alex wasn’t so conniving to have planned that, was he?

  The only way to know for sure was to ask Alex myself, but at the moment I didn’t know if I could stand to face him. What if it had all been a lie? Had Mother known he was lying? Was he just some plant to make me look foolish? No, I knew my mother was capable of a lot of things, but she wasn’t cruel for the sake of being cruel. And Alex would have to be a sociopath to lie so convincingly about his feelings for me. But then again it would explain a lot of things. If he really had been a bodyguard for so many important people, why had he acted so unprofessionally right off the bat? Why had Mother gone through all the bother of hiring him yet had not expected him to be by my side throughout their visit? I never believed that she considered me a kidnapping risk, yet she also didn’t use him for information like I’d expected. Of course, he also might have been lying about that. But so convincingly? I never saw myself as easily fooled. Was a handsome face and flirtatious green eyes all it took to make me lose control of my reason?

  There was an explanation for all this, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was.

  Unable to decipher it myself, I locked myself in my bathroom and called someone who might be able to help.

  “What up, bitch?” Diana panted into the phone.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Cycling class,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. I need someone to distract me. Genevieve is killing us.”

  I got right to the point. “My mother knows about Alex and me. And she gave me a background check on him.”

  Diana gave a squeal of delight. “Are you serious? And - wait, let me guess - you’re locked in your bathroom right now, riddled with anxiety on whether or not you shoul
d open it and violate his privacy or just let the dirt pass through your fingertips.”

  “Well the bathroom part’s right. But I’ve already read it.”

  “Cora!” Diana sounded impressed. “I knew I was capable of that kind of invasive sleuthing, but you? It’s good to hear I’m rubbing off on you.”

  “Stop it!” I said. “I wasn’t trying to be invasive.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Really,” I insisted. “I read it fully expecting to be able to prove Mother wrong. She said I didn’t know him.”

  “And do you?”

  My silence worked as an answer.

  “I’m so sorry, Cora,” Diana said. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. Talk me through it.”

  So I did. I told her that, according to his file, Alex had spent four years at NYU getting a degree. That he’d grown up in Michigan, not Brooklyn. And, most incriminating, that back in Michigan, both of his parents were apparently still alive.

  There was silence on the other end of the phone as Diana processed this news.

  “So?” I asked finally.

  “So I’m waiting for the bad shit,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “He lied about his parents being dead! And about where he was born! Who the hell does that? Not to mention he does not seem like a college graduate, let alone he’s never even mentioned it. Why would he do that if he wasn’t hiding something?”

  “I don’t know! Why do guys do anything?” she asked. “Derek once kept a cow’s head in our freezer for almost two months and never acknowledged that it was there. I didn’t say anything and one day it just disappeared. Guys are just like that. They like their secrets.”

  “But wouldn’t you want to know if Derek wasn’t who he said he was?” I asked.

  “Honestly, I wish Derek wasn’t who he said he was,” Diana said. “But not all of us get the luxury of changing our boyfriends. Why don’t you just ask him?”

  “I’m afraid of the answer,” I said. “What if it’s bad. Like really bad.”

  “How bad could it be?” she asked.

  The thought that my mother had something to do with Alex being in my house - and in my bed - crossed my mind again, but I didn’t voice it. “I don’t know,” was all I said.

  “Well if it’s bothering you this much, then go ask him. There might be a really simple explanation for all of it. Then either accept it and move on to having a super hot, ripped hunk who’s fantastic in bed, or break it off and fire him. I can already tell you which one you should pick.” She continued on before I could answer. “I gotta go, Cora. Getting a lot of looks and the intensity’s going up. Remember, you shoot yourself in the foot all the time. Don’t let it happen with Alex. Believe me, guys like him aren’t around every corner.”

  She hung up before I could say anything, leaving me sitting in the bathroom, staring at the floor.

  Could there be a simple explanation? Maybe Alex was so estranged from his parents that he considered them dead. But then why would he tell me specifically that his mom died of cancer when he was twelve? It was all too similar to my own father’s death at that same age. Was Alex really so manipulative that he’d use my personal tragedy to get into my bed? I could maybe understand lying about a childhood in Michigan or forgetting to mention a college education, but something about even those simple facts rang false to me. Or was I deluding myself about how much I knew Alex?

  I didn’t know for sure, but I certainly wasn’t going to wait much longer to find out. Alex needed to answer to this and I needed to hear it, no matter how much it hurt.

  * * *

  Alex was sitting at the desk in his room when I pushed open his door. He started and turned at the noise, face breaking into an easy smile at the sight of me. My heart lurched in my chest. Why couldn’t I have just shoved the file in a drawer and forgotten about it? An hour ago, I’d have been so happy to see his eyes locked onto mine. Now I was just filled with regret and distrust.

  And anger. No, I was glad I’d read the file. Alex had lied to me and I was going to find out why.

  The smile faded slightly when I didn’t return it. He stood and walked toward me. I put a hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Now he looked just as serious as I felt.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. Even though we had to whisper, his words seemed to echo through the room. What was wrong? Everything was wrong.

  “What was it like at NYU?” I asked him.

  He furrowed his brow, confused.

  “What part of Michigan are you from?” I asked, and understanding finally broke through in his green eyes.

  “Cora-,” he started.

  I held up my hand again. “What about your parents, Alex? Is it true?”

  He looked away, unable to meet my eyes. “Is what true?” he asked when I waited for him to answer.

  “Are they really dead?” I demanded, emotion cracking through my voice like a whip. “Because I just read a file that says they’re alive and well in Kalama-fucking-zoo!”

  He cringed. Then he asked, “Why did you read my file?” He actually had the balls to look hurt. “Don’t you trust me?”

  I was at a loss for words. Briefly. “I read it because I trusted you!” I hissed. “My mother gave it to me. She knew there was something off about you and she was actually right! So you admit it? You lied to me about your own mother dying of cancer? What is wrong with you?” He tried to speak but I steamrolled right over him. After a week of holding my tongue to Mother, I was finally able to speak my mind and once I started, I couldn’t stop. “What I don’t understand is what the end game was here. You actually made me care about you. I defended you to my mother of all people!”

  “That’s a shock,” he muttered and I fought an intense desire to slap him.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  He chewed on his lip like he regretted saying it.

  “Go on!” I said. “Tell me.”

  “You act like you’re ashamed of me,” he said. “You feel like a fool? How do you think I felt standing at the top of that staircase being passed over for someone who actually matters.”

  “You said you understood,” I accused. “Was that all bullshit too?”

  “Yes! No!” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. No, it wasn’t bullshit. I do understand, but maybe I hoped that you would fight for me.”

  “I tried,” I said. “I went to my mother and- oh my God, I can’t believe I’m having to defend myself. You lied to me. You’re not the victim here!”

  “I didn’t lie to you,” he said. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Than what could possibly be the explanation for this?” I demanded.

  “I can’t tell you,” he admitted. “But it wasn’t what I told you that’s untrue. It’s the file. Pretty much all of it is bullshit. Except my name. Well, my first name.”

  Now I really didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t been wrong. There was something going on and if Alex’s entire official backstory - including his last name - was faked, it was a lot more serious than I could have imagined. But still, his admission sparked some strange sense of hope in me. Maybe we could work it out. “Just tell me,” I pleaded. “Explain to me and maybe I’ll understand.”

  He shook his head and turned away. “No, you won’t. I… I didn’t want you to find out like this. I didn’t want you to find out at all.”

  “Are you scheming with my mother?” I asked, hoping, praying, that he wouldn’t confirm my worst nightmare.

  He gave a humorless laugh. “The opposite really,” he said. “At least at first. Now I’m not working against anyone. Listen Cora. I came here for a reason, but I can’t tell you what it is. All I can ask is that you trust me when I say that my only objective here now is you.”

  I shook my head. “How can you ask me to just blindly follow you? You know how much I put on the line for us to work. I want to try to understand, but I can’t if you don’t share with me.”

  Alex was q
uiet for so long, I feared the silence would never end. Just tell me, I begged internally. Tell me and I can go back to loving you.

  “I can’t,” Alex finally said. “I can’t do it to you.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  He shook his head and didn’t answer. We both stared at the floor, full of regret at how things were working out between us.

  “Does this mean it’s over?” he asked.

  I pursed my lips and tried to think up a scenario in which all of this worked out for us. I was coming up blank.

  “I think so,” was all I could say.

  He walked closer to me and this time I didn’t push him away. Whatever secret Alex held had a stronger hold over him than I realized. But I couldn’t fault myself to let him hold me one last time.

  He threaded one hand through my hair, raking his fingers through the strands as we stood face-to-face, looking into each other’s eyes. He didn’t offer any explanation. It didn’t matter. There wasn’t any point. My future was in the public eye with a man like Malik - rich, royal, well-bred. And Alex’s? I couldn’t even begin to guess. With a past in the shadows, I had to assume his future lay there as well.

  He gazed down at me and there was a question in his eyes. As much as I wanted to push his hand away, to run from the room and accept my predestined future, I knew that it just wasn’t that easy. What was the harm in one final time? So I nodded slightly, giving in to his desire and mine.

  He kissed me passionately with the fervor of a dying man, knowing this was the last time. I met him in intensity. Would I ever have a connection with a man like the one I had with Alex? Maybe not and if I never did, I wanted to remember tonight as the final time I laid my passions bare and took what I wanted and was taken in much the same way. His tongue dove into my mouth, lips mashed into mine. He pushed me backward against the door and pinned me to the wall as he ran his hands up and down my body, touching me in all the right places. I groaned into his lips as his hand slide into my inner thigh.

  “Shhhh,” he whispered into my ear. “Your family might hear us.”