Operation Revenge (22 page)

Smirking, she decided to have a little fun with him. "I'm cleaning the basement."

Sandra arched an eyebrow.

"You're doing what?" Simon growled.

"I'm cleaning the basement," she repeated, her eyes lit with laughter. "You should see it. It's a mess."

"Do I need to remind you that you're getting over the flu?" he said coolly. "You have no business being down in that dirty-"

"Simon," Haley interrupted. "I'm just playing with you. Relax and take a deep breath. Sandra's here and we're visiting. I'm sitting on the couch being a good girl."

"Oh, you're being anything but a good girl right now," he uttered dryly. "Did you enjoy getting me worked up?"

"Yes, I did," she said amused. "You make it so easy, honey. Was there a reason you called?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "I'm swamped here and it looks like a late night for me so-"

"No dinner date for us," Haley said, her heart sinking.

"I didn't say that," Simon said. "We're still having dinner just not at O' Connor's. I don't have time to explain. I'm sending a company car for you at-"

"I can drive, you know."

"I know, but I don't like the idea of you being out by yourself after dark," he explained. "There are crazy people out there."

"You mean Chad's out there."

"Yes," he said softly. "Gus will be picking you up at seven."

"Gus?"

"Short for Augustine. He's been my father's driver for years," Simon told her. "He's like family. You'll like him. I'm sorry, but I have to go. I have a meeting in five minutes. I'll see you tonight." The line went dead.

"Is everything all right?" Sandra asked as Haley handed her the phone.

"Of course," Haley murmured. "Just a little change in plans."

"Ah." Sandra glanced at her watch. "I've been meaning to ask you. Did you get your cell number changed? I tried to call you yesterday and-"

"I'm sorry. I forgot to give you the new number. I had it changed because Chad kept calling me."

Sandra eyed her with concern. "Sis, maybe you should think about getting a restraining order."

Haley shook her head. "It wouldn't stop him. Nothing will stop him."

Sandra took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Please, be careful."

Haley squeezed her hand back. "You know I will."

Chapter 23

At seven sharp, the doorbell rang. Haley, who was checking her hair and makeup in the foyer mirror, crossed the room to the door. She peered through the peephole and saw a man standing there. Unlocking the door, she opened it and looked at him. In his early seventies, he had gray hair and warm brown eyes that twinkled behind a pair of glasses. He was dressed immaculately, wearing a dark suit, blindingly white dress shirt and navy tie. Next to him, she felt dowdy in her slacks and sweater. She gazed into his eyes and smiled. "You must be Gus?"

"And you must be Haley," he said, returning her smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Are you ready to go?"

"I am." She put on her coat, picked up her purse, and followed him outside. After being stuck in the house for days the cold night air was refreshing. She took several deep breaths and let them out slowly. "A nice night isn't it?" she said as they walked to the car.

"It's a little too cold for the old body," he said. "My joints can't take the weather like they used to."

"I'm sorry," Haley said with sympathy.

"So am I." Gus opened the back passenger side door and stepped back. "My lady."

"Thank you." She got into the car and he shut the door. Setting her purse beside her, she buckled her seatbelt and sat back against the leather seat.

"If you get too warm let me know," Gus said, sliding behind the wheel. "I have the heater going full blast on account of my arthritis."

"I'm sure I will be fine," she told him. "So tell me. How long have you worked for the Wilcox's?"

"Thirty-five years," he answered, starting the car. He put it in drive and pulled away from the curb. "Working for the family has been an honor. They have been good to my family and me. I'm going to miss them when I retire."

"When will that be?" Haley asked.

"In January," Gus told her. "My eye sight isn't what it used to be." He glanced in the rearview mirror at her and winked. "I can still see well enough to enjoy a beautiful woman." Haley blushed. "I must admit I was surprised when Simon called and asked me to pick you up. He hasn't dated in quite a while. I think it's because his last relationship ended badly." He sighed. "I shouldn't talk about him behind his back. I'll just say that it's nice to see him getting back out there again."

At that moment, Haley's cell phone rang. She removed it from her purse, flipped it open, and pressed the talk button. "Hello?"

"Has Gus picked you up yet?" Simon asked.

"He has," she uttered. "We're on our way. Although I don't have a clue where he's taking me."

"I didn't tell you?"

"No, you didn't tell me."

"I'm sorry," he said. "There's a restaurant two blocks over from my office. I chose for us to eat there because I don't have time to drive across town to O' Connor's."

"Any where is fine, Simon," she assured him. "I'll see you there."

"Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye." Haley closed her phone and put it back in her purse.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors parted. Stepping out, Simon made his way across the dimly empty lobby. He pushed the door open and was hit in the face by a blast of cold air. Swearing under his breath, he adjusted his coat and walked toward his car. Simon searched his pockets for his keys and found them in the pocket of his coat. As he drew near to the car, he deactivated the alarm.

Simon opened the car door. He started to get inside when suddenly he remembered that he had left his cell phone on his desk. He stood there for several seconds, staring at the roof of the car, and contemplating whether he wanted to make the long walk back to his office to get it. Distracted, he jumped when something hard jabbed him in the middle of his back.

"Do everything I tell you and I'll let you live," a gravelly voice said near his ear. "Try anything and I'll shoot you."

Simon told himself to stay calm. He knew in these kinds of situations panicking would only get you killed. "There are cameras and security guards watching. What ever you have in mind you won't get away with it."

"We'll see about that." The man moved the gun higher. "If you don't cooperate I'll shoot you. The bullet will go right through your heart."

Simon gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"

"Money," he hissed, "and your car. Hand over your wallet and keys."

"No."

The man raised the gun and pressed it to the side of Simon's head. "Say that again and your brain will be splattered all over the ground."

Simon thought of Haley and his family. The thought that he would never see them again had him reaching for his wallet and keys. "What now?"

"Place them on the roof of the car and then move away."

"Drop your weapon and step away!"

They turned, the man still holding the gun to Simon's head, and saw a security guard standing less than a foot away. He had his gun gripped tightly in both hands and was aiming it at the mugger.

"I'm not telling you again," the guard growled.

"By the time your bullet reaches me he will be dead," the man snarled. "Now this is what you're going to do. You're going to put your gun on the ground and kick it away from you."

"Don't do it, Holt," Simon told the guard.

"I'm calling the shots here," the mugger said coldly.

"Drop your weapon!" Holt ordered him.

"I told you I was calling the shots. What don't you-"

Acting quickly, Simon elbowed him roughly in the stomach, spun around, and punched him in the nose. The man doubled over, clutching his nose and howling. Blood gushed from between his fingers. Anger coursing through Simon, he kicked him in the chest, sending him falling backwards. The gun skidded across the concrete. "Not so tough now, are you, you piece of garbage."

"Don't move!" Holt barked, pointing his gun at the man sprawled on the ground at his feet. "The police are on their way, Mr. Wilcox."

"Thank you," Simon said. "Do you have a cell phone on you?"

"Sure do." Holt removed the phone from his pocket and held it out.

"Thank you." Taking the phone, Simon dialed Haley's number and waited for her to answer.

"Hello?" she said, coming on the line, a minute later.

"Haley, something has come up. I won't be able to make it to dinner."

"You need to eat," she muttered. "I'll bring you dinner."

"No." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll get something when I have time."

"The police are here, sir," Holt announced.

"Did I hear someone mention something about the police?" Haley inquired. "Is some-"

"It's nothing," Simon interrupted her. "You have dinner and-"

"I'm coming there," she stated.

"That's not-" The line went dead. "Damn." He closed the phone and handed it back to Holt. "Thank you."

"No problem, sir."

When
Wilcox Advertising
came into sight, Haley saw a police car and an ambulance in the parking lot. Her heart leapt into her throat. The need to see Simon . . . to make sure he was all right was so strong that it nearly took her breath away. She unbuckled her seat belt and grasped the door handle. The minute the car came to a stop she jumped out. Her eyes quickly scanned the crowd and she spotted Simon talking to a police officer. She hurried toward him.

"Ma'am." A police officer stopped her. "May I ask what you are doing here?"