High Stakes Seduction - Book 5 (2 page)

"We're looking forward to it, especially the new Nana,” he said and then changed subjects so swiftly it took me a moment to catch up. “Is Angela around? I tried to catch her on the cell, but didn't get an answer."

"Oh, she's probably busy. Her new boss doesn't like her having the cellphone on while she's on the floor. She can be pretty strict."

"New job? That's good to hear. I hope she's not a waitress any longer."

"Oh no! She left that one a while ago. She got a new job in the fashion industry. In fact, she's quite the jetsetter now."

Mr. Conner’s tone changed. "Fashion industry?"

"Yeah, believe it or not, she’s working for Antonio Mancini—the guy who—"

"I know who he is," he said, his voice taking on an unnaturally clipped quality. "I told her to stay away from him, and now she’s working for him? Look, when will your sister be around? I need to talk to her."

I sat there in silence. In all the time my family had known the Conners, I’d never known Mr. Conner’s tone to be this sharp. It even bordered on being rude.

"I’m sorry, Maria," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "I didn’t mean to snap at you. Could you please just ask your sister to call me?"

"Sure," I said, wondering what had caused the change of tone, but keeping my own thoughts to myself. After a few trivial words of small talk, we said our goodbyes.

"That was weird," I muttered out loud, heading over to the kitchen.

I heard the key turn in the lock and a moment later, Angela walked through the door.

"Hey Maria," she said, joining me in the kitchen. She leaned down to give me a kiss on the top of my head.

"Hey you," I smiled. "I was just about to make myself some soup. Want some?"

Angela gave me an apologetic smile. "I’m sorry, Sis. I’m going to see a movie with Ryan tonight."

I wiggled my eyebrows at her. "Coffee? Now a movie? This is an official date, right?"

Angela’s mouth opened and I could practically see all the excuses wheeling through her head before she finally let her shoulders sag and gave me a defeated grin. "No, I think this is just a movie. It’s still a little too early for me to do the whole rebound thing, if that's what you're hoping."

"All right," I said in a singsong voice I knew would annoy her and make her smile. "If you say so."

Angela laughed and held her hand up. "Okay, okay. I solemnly swear to spill the beans if anything interesting happens."

I nodded approvingly then waved my hands, shooing her away. "Now go get yourself ready for your not-a-date-with-Ryan."

Angela gave me a salute, trying not to laugh, and turned back toward the hallway. "I’m going to take a quick shower," she told me.

"Oh," I said, needing to tell her about the call before I forgot later. "Mr. Conner called. He wanted to talk to you about something."

Angela’s face drew a bit tighter, her eyes narrowed as she turned and looked directly at me. "What did he want?" she asked quietly.

"He didn't say, he just wanted you to give him a call back. But he seemed surprised that you were working for Antonio."

"Hmm.” She looked thoughtful. "I guess I never thought to tell him about that. Thanks, Sis. I’ll give him a call tomorrow." Then she disappeared down the hall.

How strange. My sisterly intuition told me something was up. I played the conversation over in my mind, but I couldn't identify what it was. Yet. But,
why did it feel like the more Angela revealed to me about her and Antonio Mancini, the less I seemed to know?

Chapter Four

ANGELA

"So what kind of comedy do you like? Jim Carey? Cedric? Jackie Chan? Bill Murray—although he's getting kind of old," Ryan asked, popping the last of the popcorn into his mouth.

"Actually," I laughed, "I don’t really care about specific actors, but I do have a fondness for the oldies, the stuff from the 40s and 50s—The Thin Man, some of the Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn movies. I just wish they made more of them like that today. There's a little too much 'Dumb and Dumber' for me."

"And your final verdict about this one?"

I thought about it for a moment, then stretched out my hand, thumb pointed sideways in a ‘so-so’ gesture. "It definitely could have been better."

Truth was, I was only half paying attention to the movie for the entire two hours, laughing belatedly at all the jokes and sight gags. The other half kept flashing through different scenarios, wondering why Mr. Conner had called.

I’d called the attorney back before meeting with Ryan at the theater, but all I got was his answering machine. I'd done my best to be civil in my message, reminding him I'd asked to be called on my cellphone, not at home. Until I had some answers, I didn’t want Maria to know anything about the birth certificate I'd found, let alone the mystery it brought to light. The last thing I wanted was to worry her.

And to top off my frustration, Ryan refused to share the information he’d hinted at in his text until after the movie. So yeah, my thoughts definitely weren’t with anything on the big screen.

"Gelato?"

I glanced over at Ryan, noticing his elbow was stuck out in my direction, and he was sporting one of his slightly goofy, but utterly charming smiles.

I couldn’t resist smiling back as I slipped my arm through his. "Sounds great," I said.

The evening was a little chilly for ice cream, but I’d go along with Ryan’s little game for the time being. Especially if it rewarded me with some information I could use.

Chapter Five

ANGELA

"Mango," I said, pointing at the bright, golden treat under the glass case. The second the word came out of my mouth, I half regretted it. I was reminded of the drinks with Thomas Markus, and then of course with Antonio. Dang, another Caribbean reminder.

No, Damn it
. I was not going to let memories of that cruise ruin every single moment of my life.

"Here you go, miss," said the woman behind the counter, handing me a scoop of the ice cream in a sugar cone.

"And for you, sir," she said, handing Ryan his double scoop of chocolate in a giant waffle cone.

"So," I said, trying to sound casual as we took a seat in the far corner of the little dessert café. "You mentioned that you have some information for me?"

Ryan gazed at me over his ice cream, taking the time to slowly lick the creamy chocolate gelato. "I did, didn’t I?"

I narrowed my eyes, watching him with interest. He had a Cheshire cat grin on his face, obviously enjoying himself. I wondered how long he would drag this out.

Then I remembered he’d asked whether or not I was just seeing him as a way to get information. It was part of the reason, but, admiring the quirk of his lips as he watched me, I had to admit there was definitely something more here. He slid his tongue slowly over the gelato again

All right, mister
, I thought.
Two can play this game
.

Mango dribbled over my index finger, so I lifted it to my lips, watching him as I carefully licked my finger clean.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice was asking me what in the world happened to that sweet, innocent little girl I used to be. But the rest of my mind, at least for the moment, was focused on Ryan.

"Yes," I said. "I’m pretty sure you did." I smiled, nibbling at my ice cream.

Ryan accepted this as an invitation and pulled his chair around to sit closer to me. "How about this," he said, finishing the last bite of his dessert. "A trade."

"Excuse me?"

He leaned in closer. "I give you something you want, and in return, I get something I want." His voice had taken on a deep tone and a corner of his mouth lifted into his sexy grin that showed off a little dimple. His eyes gazed deeply into mine.

I raised my eyebrows and his face changed again. I smirked slightly at the sudden shift from calculating to shy that came over his features.

"Oh, nothing
too
serious," he assured me. "A kiss? That seems fair to me… in exchange for the information."

Needless to say, that surprised me. But it didn’t impress or amuse me, if that’s what he was going for.

"How do I know your information is worth such a price?" I drawled, consciously trying to keep the edge out of my tone.

He smiled then. Reaching over, he took my hand by the wrist, gently laying aside my ice cream cone as he leaned in toward me.

This close, feeling the warmth of his breath, the subtle, sultry scent of his cologne, my annoyance vanished as I closed my eyes and leaned in to press my lips to his.

His lips parted to accept mine and his tongue glided silkily into my mouth. His hand slid along my throat, into my hair. I let my hand fall to his leg, feeling the impressively toned muscles beneath his jeans.

It was a sweet, sexy kiss, and it should have sparked something in me, but—

Ryan pulled away first.

"I’m sorry," I said.

Ryan shook his head. "No, it’s my fault," He took my hand in both of his. "I shouldn’t have pushed you."

"No, no it’s—"

"Whoever he is, he’s let go of something really special," Ryan said, raising my hand and kissing my palm.

I stared at him, suddenly wanting to cry. I managed to swallow the lump in my throat, even if I couldn’t quite find my tongue to speak.

"It's okay. Now, let me be fair. I did say I had some information," he said, changing the subject. "But I’m afraid it’s not much that will help you."

"Well, it must be something, right?" I managed.

"Angela, you didn’t give me a whole lot to go on, and, there’s not a lot of information I could share with you anyway. What I did find is pretty high level, confidential stuff. I don’t have access to many of the files. But I can tell you that, basically, you’re right. There's something up with the South Side Children’s Academy. From all the restricted access, I suspect an investigation is already underway, but I don't have any hard evidence and there's really nothing else I can say for sure, at least, not at this moment."

"Oh," I said, sorting through my thoughts. "That's not much, but still…." If an investigation was already under way, what did that mean for Antonio?

Then, a stunning new thought struck me. If Antonio was getting himself into trouble, what did that mean for his business?

And… what did that mean for my job… my security… or, honestly,
for me
?

Chapter Six

ANGELA

Antonio had summoned me to his office but I wasn't so sure I wanted to talk with him today—especially one-on-one. What choice did I have? I trudged to the elevator, unconsciously checking my face in the mirrored door. I dropped my hand when I realized I was primping for the man.

"Hello Angela," he greeted me as I stepped through his office door.

I spotted Priscilla standing at the desk. I hoped that was a good sign, and that my sigh of relief at not having to see him alone wasn’t too obvious. Then I noticed she was pouring over the portfolio I had dropped off the day before.

Suddenly, my nerves began to dance under my skin as I realized why I was here. I took a deep, calming breath and smiled.

"So, what do you think?" I asked.

"Very impressive," Priscilla said, giving me the hint of a smile.

That was high praise indeed, coming from someone as stoic as Priscilla, and it went a long way toward alleviating my nervousness.

"These bridal shots are stunning, Angela."

I blushed at Antonio's compliment.

"Thank you," I managed, grateful again that Maria had not only helped to pick out the photos, but had mounted them professionally as well.

"Priscilla was right, you have a really good eye for composition," Antonio said. He leaned back against his desk, standing next to Priscilla. "I can see your talents becoming very useful for our studio."

"Oh, it's not so much…" I started, but he waved my protest away.

"Over time, not right this moment. There are many ways to improve on natural talent." He grinned at me. "Courses and mentorship can provide the polish, but nothing can replace the artist's eye."

"Thank you," I repeated, not quite sure where this conversation was headed.

"Now, in the meantime, the Carlo and Poula project needs to get moving."

"Of course," I said. Was he unhappy with my progress so far?

He turned his head, "Thank you, Priscilla."

She nodded and left.

"Have a seat, Angela," he said, gesturing toward the leather couch. He moved around to sit in the chair alongside his desk.

Keeping it formal. That helped a little.

"Priscilla continues to praise your work at the store," he said, getting right to business. "And we are very pleased with your portfolio."

"But I’m not quite 'professional photographer' level?" I stated more than asked, not sure of his point but also trying not to sound disappointed.