“Oh, hell. Other shit. You know.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “All you said was that you were going to fuck Damien over. So what did you do?” My left hand is closed into a tight fist, my nails biting into my palm. It is only through a supreme force of will that I am remaining calm. “Dammit, Carl. What other shit are you talking about?”
He stays silent, his expression unreadable.
“For Christ’s sake, Carl, why did you come here in the first place?”
He sucks in a gulp of air. “You know how Stark paid Padgett off, right? And now Padgett has to keep his mouth shut.”
“How do you know that?” Eric Padgett was threatening to go public with his theory that Damien had something to do with his sister’s death, and Damien actually wrote a check to shut the worm up. It’s not something I like to think about. More than that, the terms of the settlement were supposed to be confidential.
“I know a lot of things. Padgett did a lot of talking before he got Stark’s money. And most of his talking was to other people with an ax to grind against Stark. Trust me when I say that I realized pretty fast that Padgett was the least of Stark’s worries. There are a lot of people who want to see the shit fly.”
“You included,” I snap.
“Not me. Not anymore. That’s why I’m here. I get it. I got the whole thing wrong and I screwed Damien and I screwed you. I’m saying I’m not the only one.”
“Who, then? And what shit?”
He shakes his head. “Just tell Stark that he may not see this one coming.” He makes a rough noise in his throat. “I was blown away when I learned who Padgett had lined up with an ax to grind against your boyfriend.”
I stand very still. He’s scaring me more than he probably knows. “You won’t tell me who?”
“I’ve said everything I’m going to. I’ve played my part, and now I’m getting out of this mess. Whatever happens isn’t coming from me, I can promise you that.”
“Then why did you come here at all?”
“Because telling you is like telling Stark. It’s a small world, and I burned a bridge I shouldn’t have.”
“And you think this is going to fix it?”
“No, but I think it’s a start.” He meets my eyes. “Tell Stark to watch his back.”
“I’ll tell him,” I say, proud of myself for keeping my voice from shaking. “But he always does.”
18
I am actually wishing for the paparazzi as I walk toward my car. At least then I could be pissed off at them instead of worried for Damien.
The second I get in my car, I reach into my glove compartment for my phone charger so that I can call Damien, but the damn thing isn’t there. I forgot to put one in my briefcase, so my phone hasn’t charged at all today, and it’s almost dead. I dial anyway, figuring I can talk fast, and am relieved when Damien picks up immediately.
“I ran into Carl,” I say without preamble.
“Ran into him?” His voice is low and measured and very, very ominous.
“As in he came to Innovative and waited for me in the lobby.”
“Are you okay? What did he do?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, because I can hear both the worry and the temper. “He wanted me to tell you to watch your back.”
“Did he? Tell me everything he said, exactly how he said it.”
I comply, relating the conversation in as much detail as I can manage.
“And he wouldn’t tell you any more?”
“No,” I say. “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”
I hold my breath, wondering if Damien will cite the thing going on in Germany. Or the tennis center. Or even the Eric Padgett settlement. There are so many things that this could be about, and though I haven’t got a clue, I am certain that Damien does.
But when he speaks, he tells me nothing. “I think this is Carl’s way of blowing smoke.”
“Why would he do that?” I ask.
“You said he wants to rebuild burned bridges. What better way to do that than to warn me about some upcoming danger?”
“Because there’s always some sort of danger for a man like you,” I say, picking up the direction of his thoughts.
“An angry competitor. A fired employee. A stolen patent. And then Carl comes along and tells me to be on guard, and when I next notice some nefarious deed, I will think, oh, isn’t it lucky that Carl warned me. I guess the little prick isn’t so bad after all.”
I laugh, because Carl is a little prick and nothing is going to change that. But the laughter doesn’t erase my worry. “So you’re really not worried?”
“I make it a point not to worry,” Damien says. “There’s no profit in it.”
“Damien—”
“Stop,” he says gently.
“Stop what?”
“Stop worrying about me. You’re wasting precious energy.”
“What else am I going to do with it?” I ask airily. “It’s not as if you’re here beside me.”
He laughs. “Good girl,” he says. “Where are you?”
“The parking lot. I’m going to hit the grocery store and go home.”