JAMES
I watched Joan approach the room. Watched through the windows as her eyes slid over me and then Leah. Her eyes didn't move very far after that.
"Well, hello there."
Leah turned towards the voice, licking the coffee from her lips. She immediately smiled.
Joan made a very obvious show of looking the new meat up and down.
I cleared my throat. "Joan, meet Leah Harris. The newest member of the Muller Foundation and my personal assistant."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Harris." Joan grinned as she shook Leah's hand. "I had no idea James was bringing a friend. I've never known him to have assistants. He doesn't trust other people."
"We're working on that," Leah said, shooting me a smart grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you also, Joan. Your building is stunning."
To my surprise, the hotel mogul smiled brightly.
"I designed most of the decor and architecture myself. I prefer face-to-face meetings, given the confidentiality of these things, so we should have nice things to look at. Meetings can be unbearable otherwise."
"I agree completely." Leah took a sip from her coffee and glanced at me.
"Let's begin, shall we?" I suggested.
Joan's assistant, Mike, joined us and we started the meeting. I presented the information my intel had provided.
Joan hired me to find out about a potential scandal hanging over one of her investors. She was as anti-drama as any ultra-wealthy elitist could be.
Leah read the statistics I had drawn up for the investor's time, location progressions, and financial transactions.
"So we still can't prove that Landrum is importing heroine?" Joan asked.
Leah's eyes widened. Glancing worriedly at me, she bit her lip. She had no idea what we were trying to peg this culprit for or why. She was completely innocent of the reason we were truly in New York.
Joan would donate to the Foundation but it would merely be a disguised payment for my tracking services.
"I can't prove it," I told her, "but I have enough evidence that we can assume he is. My intel is actively observing him. If there is evidence out there to obtain, it will be delivered to us. In the meantime, we don't have legal grounds to expel his investment or claim in your company."
"Fuck." Joan closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "What about that thing I asked you about last month?"
I swallowed and closed my laptop. "I'm still working on that. It's something I want to investigate personally. I thought I could do so while I was in town."
She perked up at that. "How do you intend to get near him? Assuming my theories are true."
"Well, I have connections in SoHo. They have suggested that he frequents one of the clubs he owns. Leah and I will be going tomorrow night."
"Ahh, I didn't realize you would be personally investigating this," Joan remarked. Her gunmetal eyes flashed with suspicion. "Is there any particular reason for that, James?"
I didn't flinch or waver under her scrutiny. "I am afraid sending in one of my intel agents would risk exposure. Some matters I must attend to on my own. My connection also insisted that it must be me. There will be no loop back to you, Joan. You know I would never put a client at risk."
Joan looked to Leah, who lifted her chin. I could see the glimmer of doubt in Leah's eyes but she held steady.
"And you trust Leah to uphold the same level of confidentiality?" she asked.
"Of course. I wouldn't have brought her along otherwise."
She examined Leah carefully for another moment before sighing and looking down at her lap. "Good enough then. I trust your judgment. Do you two have anything else for me?"
"No, that's it for now," I said.
We all stood together and shook hands. Joan buttoned her jacket and smiled tightly at Leah.
"I'll see you for dinner, yes?"
Leah glanced at me, unsure. "Yes, I believe so."
I nodded. "We'll meet you downstairs."
"Come straight to my table," she told us. "You know how I am."
"We'll be there at seven."
She nodded once more at Leah and then strode out of the room. While I packed up my things, I ignored Leah's heated gaze on me. She finished her coffee and chucked it in the trash.
"You know I have questions now," she said.
"Let's go for a stroll, shall we?"
Although she seemed peeved at having to wait for answers, remaining completely silent and studying her phone the entire way to the lobby, I knew she would have waited much longer to find out what was going on.
The elevator dispensed us at the lobby and we ambled out to the street. I knew somewhere close we could grab a bite, so we started in that direction.
I looked over the heads of the crowd around us, the constantly moving swarm of the NYC streets. Somehow, it felt suddenly new and different with Leah by my side.
"We aren't here for the Foundation, are we?" she asked.
"Not exactly," I said.
"So this is for your private business?"
"Kind of."
She looked away in annoyance and I clenched my jaw to keep from smiling.
"Okay," she drawled. "Why bring me then? Why do you think you can trust me with personal business?"
"Because you wanted this job so badly. And I'm still paying you for this weekend, whether you're working for the Foundation or me."
"So I'm working for you then? The Foundation is just a mask for my real job?"
I glanced down at her. Even in her heels, she seemed so small. "Sort of."
"That's not what I agreed to, James."
"Mr. Muller," I corrected. "And it's what you get. You signed up for this, whether you knew it or not."
She gritted her teeth. "Do you gather your intel legally or do you just spy on anyone you have to to get paid?"
"My spying sources are completely legal," I hissed. "However, intel I gather on my own sometimes requires additional effort. If it was legal and doable, I would have my staff do it."
"Ah, I see. So our mission tomorrow night is illegal then."
Rather than respond, I gave her the side eye.
"So what exactly is it you do, Mr. Muller?
"For the Foundation, I hire people to run events and fundraisers to get the foundation money to support survivors and violators. For my private business, I deploy agents to gather information on certain subjects. Unless I need to gather the information myself, in which case I operate off the record."
"It doesn't seem smart to take your new employee on an illegal venture for a company she doesn't technically work for."
"You do, in fact, technically work for me. If you had closely read the documents you signed on your first day, you would have realized the bondage you put yourself in."
"I did carefully read those documents, asshole." She stopped short when I glared down at her. Then, narrowing her bright hazel eyes, she added, "The only way you could have done this is by using my signature to forge documents. Which is illegal. Although you clearly aren't concerned about legality."
"That's a correct assumption."
She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Are you going to use me as a scapegoat for something?"
"Potentially."
"You know what happened to the last guy who tried that?" She smirked coyly.
"He was fatally shot by the police," I stated.
Leah visibly blanched. "It was a joke. Holy shit."
We walked under a familiar striped canopy outside a restaurant I knew far too well.
"Let's stop here for a bite," I said.
She hesitated with a scowling before relenting. I told the hostess we wanted to sit at the bar. It was always empty, especially during this late lunch hour. We took our seats and looked over the laminated menus.
"I want to see those financial transaction records," Leah demanded.
I set the menu down with an impatient sigh. Glancing at her, I muttered, "And why is that?"
"Because. I might recognize something. You do remember that financial transactions are my thing? That I have been working at a bank for longer than you have ever been in school. I spent a lot of time tracking fraudulent charges before I was promoted to management. Just let me look and maybe I can help."
She had a point. I had avoided this for a reason, though. Her interactions with my private business were supposed to be minimal. I needed her presence with me tomorrow night so that I seemed normal.
"So you want to get involved with the dirty deeds then?" I asked.
"Of course, I don't," she countered coolly. "You made it clear I'm a part of your business regardless of my decisions, though. If you are going to use me, I want to exercise my skills. I'm not just some doll you can make dance."
I arched a brow.
"This doll is battery-operated, not remote-controlled. For your information."
Something like a snort came out of me.
Her eyes flattened. "Oh, God," she mumbled, lifting her hand. "Bartender, please. I need a drink."
"Little early, don't you think?" I asked.
"Not when I start talking like that. It's never too early. Trust me."
Though my interest was piqued, I decided not to prod. I watched the bartender make her way to us. Leah ordered a rum and sprite and I asked for water.
I sipped my water when it arrived and nodded at her. "Do you always drink when you're nervous?"
She lifted her hand and showed me her middle finger. I rolled my eyes. Why did I think bringing her would be a good idea?