Champagne Cravings (16 page)

I stood and paced. Then I came to a halt behind the chair
I’d previously occupied, and said, “This is rather personal. The whole thing.
The launch sabotage and the questions I have to ask you.”

He sat back in his big, black leather chair, resting his
elbows on the arms as he tented his fingers. “I hired you to do a job, Lacey.
I’m not going to hinder your efforts. My grandfather built this company and I’m
honored to run it today. Whatever your queries, I’m willing to answer them to
the best of my ability.”

“I respect that. And you.” Gripping the back of the chair, I
said, “I think what happened at the Montlimiere was meant to make Elan—or
you—look bad. What Anne did was likely a survival tactic. Chances are, a
competitor found someone to strike a deal with—best bet, they found someone in
financial dire straits who agreed to trade proprietary information for cash.
But what happened at the launch was engineered by a different means, and likely
entity, and I feel very strongly the intent was to undermine the entire
campaign, thereby leaving you in a serious lurch. And with a healthy dose of
public humiliation.”

“That’s how it felt to me as well.” His handsome face
tensed. “But how did it happen? How did someone pull that off when we had as
airtight a security plan as we possibly could have?”

“Well, that’s the tricky part, isn’t it?”

“Lacey, my security team members are pros at this sort of
thing. They’ve all been with me for a very long time and we’ve pulled off
numerous product launches and top-secret campaigns before.”

“Cal Stoddard assured me of that and I was very impressed
with the extremes he went to. He told me the makeup was in Biel’s possession
the entire time. She never let go of that bag.”

His brow furrowed. He dropped his hands and leaned forward.
“You’re not suggesting—”

“No, no,” I was quick to say. “It wasn’t Biel. I’m sure of
it. The switch happened before she arrived at the hotel is my guess. I think it
happened here. I believe that, all along, she was carrying the sealed bag that
contained the
non
-waterproof makeup.”

He got to his feet. The tension radiating from him made me
almost want to take a step back. But I stayed put, straightening my spine and
squaring my shoulders.

“You obviously have a theory.”

“I do. I’m sorry for the way this is going to sound, but I
know about you and Olivia Benedict.”

“Olivia!” he roared.

I gripped the chair more firmly, to keep from distancing
myself by moving to the other side of the room.

“Hear me out,” I said in a soft, placating voice. “Biel
swears she kept the makeup bag—which Olivia gave her—with her the
entire
time, and then gave it directly to Piper when they were ready for the
application. She watched Piper break the security tape seal.”

“You’re telling me Olivia put the wrong makeup in the bag
she handed to Biel? On purpose?”

His temper simmered now. I had to tread lightly to keep from
flaring it again. Though I wondered if he was angry I was insinuating his fling
had something to do with this, or if he was mad Olivia might have done such a
thing.

Not knowing where his fury stemmed from or to which of us it
was directed, I kept my tone even and steady as I said, “She’s the only one
with ample resources and the ability to go undetected. She had the makeup, the
plastic bags and the security tape in her lab. She was the one who handled the
product before it was given to Biel. She was the
only
one to handle the
product before it was given to Biel.”

“I can’t even fathom this, Lacey,” he said between clenched
teeth.

“You hurt her,” I reminded him. “Not intentionally, from
what I hear. But still… She thought you two were in a relationship. It’s
possible she felt used when you so easily walked away.”

“It wasn’t easy,” he told me, his anger coming down a few
notches. “I truly cared for Olivia. I still do. The timing was just…wrong. I
never should have started anything with her so soon after my wife left me, but
we were always running into each other in the parking garage, because we’d
either come in early or had stayed late. We struck up a few conversations and I
found her terribly fascinating. And attractive.”

“I’m sure the feeling was mutual from the onset.”

Letting out a heavy breath, he returned to his chair. “I
know I hurt her. Badly. But I can’t imagine she’d go to such measures…”

“Your wife didn’t exactly play fair, did she?”

I hated to twist the knife. It was a cruel thing to do. Yet
I needed him to see past the forest and focus on the tree.

He looked stricken and I moved around his large desk to
place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be insensitive. The
fact is, I really do respect you, Mav. I’m sure you tried to make the split
with Olivia as amiable as possible. But sometimes, the scorned lover doesn’t
see it that way.”

I found myself tucking that sentiment away, because I didn’t
have time to consider how it might apply to my situation with Mike—and the fact
I hadn’t told him I loved him when he’d put himself out on a limb yet one more
time.

Mav was about to speak, but a knock on the door clearly
changed his train of thought. “That will be Thomas and Marcy.”

A moment later, Christine escorted both VPs into the office.

I said, “I’ll let you handle this in private. I’m going to
speak with Olivia.”

He tensed again, but then said in a quiet voice, “I hope
like hell you’re wrong, Lacey.”

Difficult for him to admit, I was sure, because he needed me
to resolve this predicament as much as I wanted to provide the solution for
him. But I knew where he was coming from. I wanted to tell him I hoped I was
wrong too, yet if that turned out to be the case, I’d be left empty-handed,
with no more suspects.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” I told him. I collected my
things and headed out, not at all wanting to be a fly on the wall when Mav went
off about Anne Dunley.

If It Looks Like a Duck and It Quacks Like a Duck…

I’ll be Calling It a Day and Serving the Bubbly.

I checked my iPhone as I waited for the elevator and found
that Mike had tried to contact me twice. Then he’d texted me, sending me his
flight information, as promised. Unfortunately, he was now currently on his way
to Dallas, so I couldn’t reach him.

With a heavy sigh, I dropped the phone in my bag and took
the elevator to the floor dedicated to Olivia’s main laboratory and office,
since her staff apparently occupied several floors.

I swiped my badge over the electronic reader and stepped
inside the mammoth facility, which had an open floor plan with a few areas
sectioned off by glass walls. Several people wearing white lab coats and
security badges milled about or poured over their respective projects at
pristine workstations. Olivia was coming out of her office at the moment I
popped in and her head snapped up from a file she was reading.

“I’m sorry, you’re not supposed to be in here,” she told me.
“Authorized personnel only.”

“I’m Lacey Mansfield,” I said as I strode toward her and
held my hand out. “Mav Linnear hired me to investigate the leak and the issue
with the product launch.”

“Of course,” she said, her tone softening. “He mentioned
last week you’d likely want to speak with me.”

“You’ve been hard to get a hold of.”

“I’ve been caught up in research and development for a new
product. Revolutionary skin care,” she told me. “Isn’t it interesting how every
‘new and cutting-edge’ wrinkle cream is called
revolutionary
? You’d
think the marketing guys could come up with a new word.”

I laughed. “You have a point. The same applies to
weight-loss and body-sculpting clinics. Their latest techniques are always
revolutionary. But they still promote the old techniques—wouldn’t they be
obsolete? Who wants archaic liposuction?”

“Precisely.” She gave me a winning smile that made my gut
clench. Another woman I was going to like, I suspected, and yet one I’d have to
pull the rug out from underneath.

Sometimes, this job wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“I will have to say, though,” she continued, “we most
definitely are on to something revolutionary.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it when it hits the market.” I was
still feeling older than my thirty years because Biel and her friends were so
youthful and exuberant. But that was neither here nor there. I was stalling.
“Well.” I had to dive in, despite the fact I felt compelled to drag my feet.
This was the part that really sucked, because Olivia really did seem to be a
very lovely woman. “Would you happen to have a few minutes to spare now? I have
just a couple of questions.”

“Sure. Let’s go into my office.”

I followed her and she set her file folder on the edge of
her desk before taking a seat. She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk
and I sank into one.

She was a distinctive-looking woman, exactly the type I’d
imagine Mav with. Olivia appeared close to his age and had a chic, blond bob
and stylish glasses. She wore only mascara, a hint of blush and a
neutral-colored lipstick. She didn’t need anything more to enhance her large,
hazel eyes and refined features. Her lab coat concealed her attire, with the
exception of a splash of pale pink above the first button of the jacket and
below its hem, where an inch or two of her dress peeked out. She wore stockings
and low heels.

Keeping the jewelry to a minimum, she only showed off a
diamond tennis bracelet on her right wrist. I immediately wondered if Mav had
given it to her as a gift. Perhaps a parting one?

I was too sensitive to breakups by far. In this particular
situation, I hated to be the bad guy. Olivia seemed to be a very likeable
woman. But she could have been more villainous with regard to the launch than I
was about to be.

I said, “Can you tell me about the packaging of Biel McKinley’s
makeup last Thursday?”

“We did it here,” she told me. “Cal Stoddard and one of his
men escorted Biel to the lab. Cal brought the materials I needed to seal the
containers. I tested three sets on Biel and then packaged them. Everyone
watched me.”

“How’d you test the products?” I decided it’d be a good idea
to start out slow. Work my up to the big bang theory I’d concocted.

She said, “I applied a bit of each product and then used a
water bottle to spritz Biel’s face. I dabbed her skin with a white cloth and…no
makeup transferred onto it. Not even the mascara.”

I studied her as she spoke. Though there was no hesitation
in her voice, she fidgeted with a ballpoint pen on her desk, making it click as
she depressed the button for the tip to come out and then retracted it. Several
times.

Catching my gaze on the pen, she dropped it to the leather
blotter on the desk and instead rested her hands on the desk, one on top of the
wrist with the diamond bracelet. She absently fidgeted with that as well. This
time, I wasn’t even sure she was aware how she toyed with the piece of jewelry.

“Were you at the product launch?” I asked. I hadn’t seen her
in the hotel suite when the Elan execs had converged on Biel.

“No. I had a prior engagement that evening.” A hint of guilt
flashed in her hazel eyes.

Curious.

I suddenly wondered if she’d thrown herself into the new
wrinkle cream development to avoid any sort of interrogation. I’d tried to
contact her numerous times, but had been told repeatedly she was working in a
confined area, which I hadn’t been granted access to, since it was quarantined
to prevent any kind of contamination. Or so I’d been told by her assistant.

And while it’d take some ginormo balls, as Biel might call
them, to continue to come to the lab during this time of turmoil—if Olivia was,
indeed, the product launch saboteur—it would have been more suspicious had she
stayed out of the office.

I considered all of this before I took the big leap. I
asked, “Do you have any idea how the makeup was switched?”

“No,” she said with a quick shake of her head. “Once it left
the lab, it was out of my hands.”

“But never out of Biel’s. Cal escorted her to the hotel and
can confirm she never put that bag down.”

“I don’t know how it happened, Miss Mansfield. It’s a
travesty, but I can’t tell you what you need to know, because the swap didn’t
happen in my lab.”

I had to go for the gold. “And you wouldn’t have any reason
for wanting Elan—or Mav—to suffer, when you might have the potential to make
that happen?”

She shot out of her chair. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I know about you and Mav.”

Her face fell. More guilt rimmed her eyes. I’d trapped her.

“Oh.” She sank back into her chair. “He told you.”

“It’s still hanging on the grapevine, apparently.”

Olivia seemed to digest this, then said, “I thought…” She
shook her head again and stood. “I shouldn’t answer any more of your questions
without my attorney present.”

This took me aback. She’d conceded so easily? “Does that
mean you have something potentially incriminating to say?”

“It means,” she said as she scooped up her files and dumped
them into her bag, along with her laptop, “If you’re on a witch hunt, I’m not
saying a word without legal representation.”

“I’m not on a witch hunt,” I told her as I got to my feet as
well. “I’m just trying to help Mav determine who would want to sabotage his
campaign.”

“And you think I would?” she demanded. “Because he led me
on? Because he made me believe there was more between us than there really
was—more than there ever could be?”

With a sigh, I admitted, “I know what it’s like to be
played. I’m not sure what happened in your case, but it might feel as though
you were duped. It’s a soul-sucking feeling that leaves you empty and broken.
I
know.
”

Tears filled her eyes. “I loved him. He didn’t love me back.
That doesn’t mean I want him to suffer.”

I cringed. I was much too good at reading body language to
see she was lying. The way she gripped her bag so fiercely and the way her
lower lip trembled ever so slightly told me anger coursed through her at the
reminder of Mav’s betrayal of her love and trust. I recognized all the signs. I
was practically looking into a mirror, seeing myself the day Brandon had
cheated on me.

“I understand this is upsetting,” I told her. “But if you
would please just answer a few more questions—”

“Call my lawyer if you have additional questions.” She
pushed past me and stormed out of the office and the lab.

I rubbed my temple, feeling a massive headache coming on.
She’d completely taken the wrong approach to this—and it didn’t bode for Olivia
Benedict. Her defensiveness and the fact she refused to say another word
without a lawyer present echoed her guilt. What did she have to hide that she
needed her attorney with her before she’d hold a discussion with me?

“Shit.”

I should have been thrilled to have this break in the case.
But the truth was, I could empathize with Olivia. That didn’t excuse her
behavior, but hadn’t I admitted to Mike that I’d wanted to take a baseball bat
to Brandon’s Jaguar? Anger and betrayal could make you do crazy, irrational
things.

That was why they were called crimes of passion.

* * * * *

I was home by midafternoon. I’d relayed to Mav the entire
conversation I’d had with Olivia and his face had turned ghostly white as I’d
told him she’d run out on me and wouldn’t speak without an attorney present.
This did not inspire confidence in him that she was as innocent as he wanted
her to be. I could read the signs.

Leaving him to make the necessary legal arrangements so we
could further question Olivia without it being misconstrued as harassment, I
came home and ordered Indian takeout.

As I settled in my living room and nibbled on the tandoori
chicken, I flipped through TV channels, but nothing appealed to me. In the back
of my head, a number of thoughts swirled around, taunting me, until I turned
off the tube and let them run rampant.

Love was a bitch, no matter who you were, was the first
thing I decided. Latching on to another thought, I gave credence to the fact
that the vast majority of the world’s population had probably had its heart
trampled at least once. Some poor souls had been used and abused more than
that.

Leaving my container of chicken on the coffee table, I
crossed to the media center and searched the alphabetized CDs, selecting one in
particular. I pulled the disc from the case and popped it into the player.
Using the remote, I skipped to the song I wanted. Garth Brooks’ “Standing
Outside the Fire”.

I hit the play button and returned to the sofa and my food.
But I was only into the first verse when the tears started to pool in my eyes.
The song was about having two choices—jumping into love with both feet or
lingering on the outskirts of it. In one scenario, you might get burned. In the
other, you might keep your heart intact. But is the latter and safer approach
really living? Is that really experiencing all of the human emotions and all of
the possibilities that exist during our lifetime? Sure, we might get kicked
around if we take a chance on someone. Then again, we might end up with something
beautiful and lasting. Something we never would have been blessed with if we
hadn’t given it a try.

I listened to the song at least a dozen times as I wept. For
the first time in three years, I didn’t think of Chase or Brandon. I thought
only of Mike and how close we were to having it all. The problem was, we were
both amateurs when it came to romance and love. Neither one of us knew dick
about it. Yet we’d been willing to give it a go. And then everything had gone
haywire the night before he’d left for Dallas.

Now we were left with two choices. Jump into the fire or
stand outside it.

I knew where I wanted to be. With him.

Leaping off the sofa, I went into the foyer to retrieve my
laptop. There were still some photos I’d downloaded from Biel’s camera that I
hadn’t yet printed out or sent to Mike.

Then I dug around in the drawers of the entryway table,
looking for stationery. I could have sworn I’d brought some home from a fancy
hotel in Paris, but I must’ve eventually tossed it during a cleaning fit, since
I never bothered with handwritten notes these days.

I had to settle on computer printer paper, but at least the
letter would be in my own penmanship. After locating a pen, I returned to the
living room, wiped the water from my cheeks and went straight to work.

First, I downloaded the rest of the photos. Then I selected
the one Biel had taken when she’d asked how I’d feel if Mike never kissed me
again. There’d been a tear in my eye. A perfect round drop that had sat on the
rim of my eye when she’d snapped the picture.

I attached it to an email message for him and typed, “This
would be me, without you.” I hit the send button without a second thought.

Then I put pen to paper and told him precisely how I felt
about him. When I’d conveyed all the emotions I’d shared with Biel, and then
some, I printed out the rest of the pictures and, with a black Sharpie, created
brief captions for each one. The last one I signed was of me smiling
brilliantly. I remembered what had brought that smile to my face. Telling Biel
about my first kiss with Mike.

I wrote, “
You
are everything to
me
. Thank you
for loving me. Love, Lace.”

Staring at the sign-off, I amended it, adding an “I” before
the word “Love” and squeezing in “You” after it.

Ah. That was amazingly cleansing. No matter the outcome, I
couldn’t be blamed for not giving him my heart and soul. It was what I wanted
to do, regardless of how our relationship panned out. He deserved the truth
from me and I believed it was time I gave romantic bliss another shot, now
knowing so much more about relationships and affairs of the heart than I did
the first two times around.