11
BELLE TRIED TO STOP her hands from shaking as she carefully lowered herself into Diana’s office chair.
“It’s not booby-trapped, you know,” Sierra hissed from the door where she was standing lookout. “Just sit down and get to it.”
Belle rolled her eyes at her partner in crime. Her exasperation was more calming than the deep-breathing exercise she’d been trying since they’d decided to break into Mitch’s assistant’s office.
Her stomach constricted again.
No, break in was the wrong term. It was business hours. Broad daylight. Just because Belle had carefully timed her visit to coincide with Mitch’s trip to the airport and had arranged for Diana to pick up a special order that suddenly couldn’t be delivered didn’t mean it was wrong.
“Get on with it,” Sierra snapped. “We don’t have that much time.”
Belle glared, but before she could say anything, her lookout did a hurry-up motion with her hand. Figuring finger gestures were next, Belle bit the bullet and, with a cringe, started peeking into file folders.
“You’re positive she’s the dirty dog who’s screwing Mitch over?” Sierra asked as Belle carefully repositioned the laundry invoices in their file.
“No,” Belle shot back. “I already told you, I’m not positive. But every bit of evidence I’ve found has been right here in her office. And since I refuse to believe it’s Mitch himself, that leaves her. Now stop bugging me and keep watch.”
Finished with the folders on the desk and not brave enough to start on drawers, Belle moved the mouse beside Diana’s computer. The floating bubble screen saver cleared and her gaze flew to the bottom of the screen. Of course, there was no incriminating document open today. Clueless but determined, she randomly opened and scanned document files. While she did, she considered the question. At least Sierra had stopped arguing that it might be Mitch. After meeting him again, spending the past few days in his company, she’d been totally won over.
The same couldn’t be said for her opinion of Reece, Belle had noticed. After that first explosive meeting four days ago, they’d retreated behind a wall of polite iciness. So much for sexual tension. Instead of being engulfed in heat, they’d straight up frozen each other out. When she’d tried asking Sierra about it, her friend had claimed instant irritation as the culprit and stated she was taking the high road and ignoring the idiot.
Frustration built as the seconds ticked and Belle came up empty-handed. Sierra hissed. Terror slapped Belle and her gaze flew to the door. Instead of a bust, though, Sierra made another hurry-up gesture. Belle opened her mouth to retort but Sierra put her finger to her lip for silence and raised both brows. She was having way too much fun with this covert crap.
With a curl of her lip, Belle mentally flipped her friend off, then went back to her snooping. Her silent cuss-fest halted when she found the recycling bin and stabbed the mouse button to open it.
Gobbledygook. Most of the files had recognizable names, but a few were weird combinations of numbers and symbols. All had the current date. Did that mean Diana emptied the recycle bin daily? The extent of Belle’s computer knowledge ended when she hit Send on her email, so she had no clue. She clenched her teeth in a silent scream of frustration. She should have let Sierra check the computer, but if one of them was going to get caught, Belle needed to take responsibility.
Helpless to do anything else, she started opening random files.
And found what she was looking for in her third gobbledygook.
“Holy shit,” she whispered as she read.
“What?”
Belle waved Sierra to silence as she right-clicked, trying to find the print command.
“Belle,” Sierra muttered.
“I’ll tell you in a second,” she said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the print icon. She hated this new operating system, she had no idea where anything was.
Aha. She clicked.
“No.” Sierra’s words had gone from a hiss to full-out panic. “Now—you have to move now.”
“What?” Panic was a stifling blanket of intense black heat as it poured over Belle. Her gaze flew to the printer, spewing pages, and back to Sierra’s freaked-out face.
“That damned cowboy is coming up the hall,” Sierra hissed, her eyes flitting around for someplace to hide.
“Damn.”
Belle stood so fast the chair flew back and hit the wall. But the move didn’t make the printer spew any faster. How long was that file? She gnawed at her lip, dancing in place. Did she hit Stop and leave it in the queue, tipping Diana off? Did she grab and run? Did she...
She caught herself actually wringing her hands and gave a little scream of frustration at the printer.
“Hold him off,” she ordered.
“What? You’re crazy.”
She glared at Sierra and pointed toward the hallway. “Now. Get his attention, drag him off to look at a horse or something. I don’t give a damn what you do, but keep him out of here.”
Sierra huffed and glared. But Belle watched thankfully as she turned on her heel and with a quick shake of her shoulders sashayed down the hall. As the door swung shut behind her, Belle sent up a brief prayer for the cowboy’s virtue and cleared the files from the computer screen. Finally, the last page printed. She grabbed the stack of papers, folded them and then looked down. A-line skirt, camp shirt, sassy heels. No purse, no pockets, no hiding place.
She glanced at her breasts. Too small, shirt too tight not to notice the sharp angle of folded pages. Oh, to be a C-cup and have hiding room.
With another glance at the door and knowing that as good as Sierra was, if he wanted in this office, Reece would be storming in any moment, she slid the pages into the waistband of her skirt right at the small of her back. Tucking her shirt over the top of them, she winced and realized she’d have to walk sideways down the hall to keep them hidden. Of all the times to forget her portfolio.
But a girl had to do what a girl had to do. So she smoothed a shaking hand over her hair, pasted her biggest fake smile on and headed for the door. Opening it just a smidge, she peeked out.
Nothing. No Sierra, no Reece. Belle frowned and tried to angle herself to peek the other way. Still nothing.
Had Sierra really dragged him off to see a horse?
Did she care? Nope, Belle just heaved a sigh of relief, and with a quick grab for an empty file folder on the cabinet, retrieved the pages from her skirt, tucked them in and opened the door.
She couldn’t wait to get back to her cottage to see who was behind the dirty deeds. Belle grinned, gave a finger wave at the concierge and practically skipped through the foyer. Wouldn’t Mitch love her when he realized she’d saved him, too? Hey, she’d take any way she could to get into his heart.
* * *
MITCH WATCHED THE RUSH of bodies hurrying through Lakeside’s foyer in satisfaction. Waitstaff bringing food to the registration desk for the guests. At the concierge station, uniformed men were polishing the brass of the luggage carts. Housekeeping was running a damp mop over the marble and berating the waiter for dropping a crumb. Mitch grinned. Crazy busy preparation for the party that night. He loved it.
“What do you think?” he asked Larry, who was checking items off some list in a frantic way. The only person Mitch knew who was more list-obsessed was Belle. Totally beyond his comprehension, but he was damned grateful for the results.
“Timing, check. Food, check. Housekeeping, check. Flowers...where are the flowers?” Larry asked in a panicked tone.
Mitch nudged him, then pointed to the bouquets flanking the registration desk and the three people setting other arrangements around the foyer. His manager’s lips moved as he counted them. Then he nodded and made a mark on his clipboard.
Assured that things were under control, Mitch grinned and slapped Larry on the shoulder before heading over to the desk to sample the appetizers.
Before he could eat more than one brie-stuffed mushroom, Reece strode up, his face set in hard lines. He reminded Mitch of a gunfighter taking his stance to draw.
“What’s wrong?” Mitch asked when his cousin came closer. “Did you have a row with one of the cousins already?”
The investors, aka their entire family, had been arriving all day for tonight’s event. He’d been fielding congratulations and backslaps all afternoon and he was loving it.
“We need to talk.”
Mitch’s smile didn’t falter. He was in too good a mood to be worried about his cousin’s recent doom-and-gloom attitude.
“So talk.”
“Privately.”
“Look, I don’t have time for a covert exchange of information. I’ve got a lot going on here, in case you didn’t notice. The entire family flew in. I picked Grammy Lynn up at the airport a couple hours ago. She’s up in her room now laughing over the sex toys. The party is in three hours, so you should think about getting yourself ready.”
In other words, Mitch didn’t want to deal with this shit now. His focus was the party, a small-scale practice run for the special invitation to the press and A-listers grand opening starting the next week. They were still serving an aphrodisiac-inspired menu, hiring a live band for dancing and inviting couples to participate in the sex-themed offerings. But as much as he loved them, Mitch didn’t think his family would appreciate caviar and Cristal. Not when they knew the costs came out of their investment.
“Belle was in your office,” Reece said in a low voice.
“So?”
“Snooping around, using the computer.” Reece’s tone changed. “Her and that high-maintenance friend of hers.”
Mitch sighed. “Again with Sierra? You don’t have to maintain her, so what’s the problem.”
“No woman is worth the energy it’d take to maintain that one,” Reece mused. He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans while he contemplated the idea. “Although she’s one helluva short, sweet ride.”
“Giddyap,” Mitch muttered as he took the clipboard from Larry. After glancing at the liquor-delivery invoice, he signed his name and returned it with a nod of thanks. “You said is?”
Pulled out of his reverie, Reece stared blankly. “Huh?”
“Is a wild ride. Not would be, not seems like. Is. Care to fill me in?”
His cousin stood stock-still, no expression on his usually affable face. Then he shrugged.
“That’s not the point,” Reece stated. “Those women had no reason to be in there. I think they were up to something.”
Mitch sighed.
“Look,” Reece said, stepping around so he was face-to-face with Mitch. “You don’t want to believe it, that’s fine. But security is my job. Let me do it my way.”
“Do what your way? Giddyap?”
Reece’s eyes flashed rare anger. Mitch braced himself, even though he knew the punch wasn’t coming. His cousin never lost his temper.
“Mitch,” called a woman’s voice.
Both men glanced over to watch a stunning, heavyset woman cross the foyer in khaki capris and a white military-style shirt.
“Lena, you made it,” Mitch greeted, glad to see his stepsister. They exchanged a hug before she turned to Reece and, a hand on his biceps, pulled him close for a half hug.
“Royce, how are you?” she asked. She tossed her dark hair behind her shoulder and gave him a toothy smile.
“It’s Reece, and I’m doing pretty good. It’s nice to see you again.”
Mitch doubted that. Reece had complained more than once about Lena back when Mitch’s stepdad and mom had been alive. The two families hadn’t blended well, though not for lack of trying on the adults’ part. But Lena hadn’t ever quite fit with Mitch’s bevy of cousins. Reece in particular had developed a tendency to leave the room as soon as she entered. Probably because she’d thought he was—how’d she put it? Mitch frowned then remembered. The bomb.
He gave a silent laugh and watched her pour the charm on his cousin and realized that whatever was bugging Reece must be major, since he wasn’t excusing himself to leave.
Apparently Reece’s monosyllabic responses outweighed his appeal as the bomb, so, after a minute of attempting to catch up, Lena turned her attention back to Mitch.
“I’m so excited for you. I just took myself on a tour around the grounds and, wow, Mitch. This is one gorgeous property.”
“Thanks.”
They discussed the resort’s amenities while Reece loomed like a silent nag behind them. Since she wasn’t an actual investor or on the board, Mitch hadn’t considered Lena when he’d told Diana to arrange for his entire family to come out. He rarely saw the other woman, but since he’d loved her father and the old man had always been there for him, he’d readily approved her addition to the guest list.
“It’s so great to see you both,” Lena gushed again. “But I’m going to go ahead and pretend I’m a posh guest here and do the registration thing, then relax a little bit before the fancy soiree this evening.”
The men offered their goodbyes, and, as Lena turned to leave, she tossed an invitation over her shoulder. “Reece, you be sure and save me a dance. I’d love to revisit old times.”
“Old times?” Mitch teased under his breath as she left.
“Whatever,” he muttered back.
Mitch laughed in delight. This was going to be one helluva fun evening.
“You need to let me do my job,” Reece said when they were alone again.
Mitch shrugged. “We’ve been through this already. Go ahead, do your job. But don’t screw with my event and don’t be making any unfounded accusations. You nail someone, you better be damned sure you have the right person and enough proof to make a case.”
“You’ll have your proof by the end of the night,” Reece assured him.
The words were right, but the feeling in Mitch’s stomach was all kinds of wrong.
* * *
BELLE DISCONNECTED HER cell phone and was just tossing it in her evening bag when Sierra came into the cottage.
“What took you so long?” she asked. “We’re due on-site in five minutes.”
She spent ten seconds admiring her partner’s vintage Vera Wang dress before she glanced at Sierra’s face. Belle frowned.
“You’re chewing on your lip,” she mumbled.
“So?”
The brunette’s tone was not only confrontational, it had do-not-disturb vibes all around it. Belle wanted to know what had happened that afternoon, where Sierra had hauled Reece off to, that kind of thing. But it didn’t take a half-assed Sherlock Holmes like herself to put two and two together and realize wherever it was, whatever they’d done, Sierra wasn’t happy about it.
“So, nothing,” Belle said, backing down. No point in starting a fight. “Do you want to see what I found?”
Sierra took one eager step forward then grimaced and shook her head. “We don’t have time. Give me the summary.”
“The file was a detailed list of instructions on how to cause trouble for the resort. Everything from those animals in the golf course to the canceled meat order are listed there.”
“Diana typed up a list?” Sierra’s tone made it clear how dumb she thought that was.
“No, they’re instructions from the person she works for.” Belle checked her hair in the mirror one last time and adjusted the strap of her ice-blue evening dress. Bias-cut silk, it hugged her curves in ways she hoped Mitch appreciated. “Apparently she’s supposed to delete any files from the computer each day, too. Thanks for the idea to send her on that wild-goose chase to pick up the replacement supplies. Otherwise she’d have emptied the recycle bin and I wouldn’t have proof.”
“Who’s behind it?”
Belle paused, still trying to believe it herself. Then she shrugged and said with a frown, “L.N. Larry Nelson. Mitch’s manager.”
“No,” Sierra breathed, her blue eyes wide with shock. “He seems so geeky and devoted. Are you sure?”
Belle cringed at the question. She felt so defensive even making the accusation. Like a traitorous bitch.
“I don’t have proof positive,” she defended. “But his name is mentioned here and these are his initials. He’s also on the access list and was involved with the computer crash.”
“That’s pretty sketchy,” Sierra pointed out with a grimace. “Remember at one point you thought it might be Mitch based on that first note?”
“I never believed it was Mitch,” Belle defended angrily.
“Right, I know. But it looked like it. All I’m saying is this isn’t enough to hold up in court, if you know what I mean.”
“I know.” Belle’s defensiveness dropped away. She thought of the list. Only half the items on it had been crossed off. Some looked like they were supposed to take place after the grand opening. The ones about contacting the paparazzi would ruin the resort.
She shoved a hand through her curls and tried to think straight. They were silent for a few seconds, Belle trying to figure out how to tell Mitch what she’d found and wondering how angry he’d be with her for snooping, Sierra undoubtedly imagining how this was going to affect their contract.
“Have you told him yet?”
“Told Mitch?” Belle’s stomach tensed again, fear dulling her anger. She swallowed twice before answering. “No, I haven’t had a chance yet.”
“But you’re going to, right? As soon as you see him?” Sierra’s face set in stubborn lines.
“I’ll tell him later,” Belle hedged. Her friend glared. “What? I’m supposed to grab him just before the party he’s throwing for his entire family and tell him to turn around so I can point out the knives two of his most trusted employees shoved in his back? Warned is unarmed, as they say.”
“Forewarned is forearmed,” Sierra said with a roll of her eyes. “That’s stupid. You’re sidestepping the confrontation. Just talk to the man, Belle. You get naked and eat fruit off each other, for God’s sake. You can tell him.”
“I was talking to my dad just before you came in,” Belle said, changing the subject. Sierra sighed, but didn’t say anything. Belle ignored her blatant disapproval. She wasn’t going to push for a confrontation at the party. That’d be crazy. She’d wait until tomorrow, sit down with Mitch and show him the proof. She took two deep breaths to calm her nausea and focused on distracting Sierra.
“He met with Kiki and they’re good to go. He’s offered her space in two of his hotels for her spa and he took your suggestion to make the same offer to some boutiques. He even has a meeting on Monday with Cartier and Tiffany’s to bring in some bling.”
Sierra paused in reapplying her lipstick to grin, genuine pleasure edging out the disapproval in her bright blue eyes. “That rocks. It sounds like he figures this is the right track?”
“His people crunched some numbers and estimate the changes will keep things afloat until the real estate market levels and he can get out from under that property.”
“And...” Sierra shot her a long, narrow look. “You’re nervous about something. Is he okay?”
Belle bit her own lip now and pressed her hand to her stomach to calm the flutters. “I invited him to the main event.”
“Here?” Her eyes huge, Sierra gave a silent whistle. “Did you tell him whose resort you’re opening? Aren’t you afraid of an ugly public blowup?”
“I told him. He was...” Ugly would be the best word. But Belle had stood up to him. She’d almost puked, but she’d stood her ground. “I told him I’m serious about Mitch and they need to mend the fence I kicked down. He agreed to go to dinner with Mitch and me next week.”
Sierra dropped her lipstick into her beaded black purse and the two women made their way out the door. “Mitch is cool with this?”
Belle wrinkled her nose. “I hope. I’ll ask him over whipped cream.”
The two women walked through the garden, lit with fairy lights, past the fountain with its cushioned benches and into the ballroom.
Staff was putting last-minute touches on the flowers and lighting candles at the small tables around the room. The bar staff was setting up the champagne fountain while two bartenders organized their stations on either side of the room.
“You need to tell him,” Sierra said as they stood in the entrance.
“You need to back off,” Belle shot back. “If we’re going to play show-and-tell, maybe you could fill me in on the cowboy?”
Silence.
Then her friend shrugged and shook out the skirt of her dress.
“It looks good, everything is on schedule,” Sierra said with a glance at her watch. “An hour till showtime?”
“Yep,” Belle agreed. “You’re in charge of keeping an eye on Larry.”
Sierra wrinkled her nose, but nodded. “Let’s rock this party.”
And later tonight, after a vigorous bout of hot, sweaty sex, Belle would tell Mitch his assistant was in cahoots with his manager to destroy his resort.