Raw (7 page)

“That was the best show I've ever seen! Are there any more musicals as good as this one?”

The lights came up and Anna grinned. “
Jersey Boys
is great, but you're going home tomorrow.”

“Well, damn. Next time, maybe?”

“You bet.”

Inroads had been made between her and her mom, a connection established between the three of them. It was a great feeling. They walked a few blocks at a leisurely pace so as not to tire her mother. Then they found an Italian restaurant in Times Square and ate until they thought they'd pop. After more shopping, the sun was going down, and they were all ready to drop.

Margaret put her arm through her daughter's. “Thank you for the best weekend I've had in a long time.”

“It's been fun, hasn't it? Thanks for coming, and don't make it so long next time.”

“I won't.” She gave Anna a sly look. “You'll have to fly home and have a long weekend sometime soon. Meet Bruce.”

“I'll do that.”

Gray grew quiet on the cab ride home, but Anna attributed that to being tired. It had been a long day for all of them. But when her mother disappeared inside Anna's apartment, he didn't follow, but hovered in the hallway.

“Everything all right?” she asked, taking his hand. “You still want me to come over after my mother goes to sleep?”

“I'd love nothing more, but I can't tonight. I'm sorry.”

Disappointment deflated some of her happiness. “Why not? What's wrong?”

“I'm not feeling so good. Might be coming down with some sort of stomach bug,” he said with regret. “I just need some rest. But I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

There was a strange catch in his voice that made her pause. Made her feel weird inside. Not like he was going to call off their budding relationship, but something else. Her mother's words came back to haunt her, and she found herself wondering if he was telling her the truth now.

“I can come over and check on you later, if you want.”

“No, I don't want you or your mom to catch whatever I've got. I'll be fine.”

Her mood dipped even further. “All right. I hope you feel better, and I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, honey.”

He didn't sound particularly sick. Sad, but not ill. What did she know, though? He would probably go right to bed and pull the covers over his head.

By the time she went inside her apartment, Anna's feet were killing her. In the foyer, she toed off her heels and gathered them up, then started for her bedroom as her mom did the same. Entering the room, she flipped on the light as Sterling howled for attention. She picked him up and loved on him some, scratching under his chin and behind his ears before setting him down again. She must've been more exhausted than she thought, because she had never tripped over the bedside rug before. But this time her foot caught the edge, and she couldn't stop her fall.

Anna hit the floor with a thud, smacking her knee and elbow. “Shit. What a klutz.”

She was about to get up when she spotted something stuck to the side of the wooden bed frame. It was small and round, about the size of a pea. Lying on her stomach, she reached out and scraped at it with her fingernail.

With some prying, it came off in her hand, and she studied it with growing trepidation. The side that had been stuck to the bed was sticky, and the other . . . Jesus, it looked like a tiny microphone or transmitter. The impact of what she was holding in her hand hit, and she sucked in a breath.

It was a listening device. Her apartment had been bugged.

And there was only one person besides her mother who'd been inside lately—Gray.
I even gave him a key!

Shaking, she conducted a search and found one in the bathroom, one in the living room under the coffee table, and one in the kitchen behind the coffeemaker. Those were all she found, but that didn't mean there weren't more.

Why would anyone do this? Who would think she had something to hide that they needed to know about? Was Gray responsible? She didn't want to believe that.

Heartsick, she debated waking her mom, then decided against it. Doing so would just upset her and ruin a nice visit. Best to pretend she hadn't found them, then contact someone—the police?—after her mother went home. After searching for a good place to stash the devices, she put them in a desk drawer and shut it. Nobody would run across them there, and she'd deal with them later.

What about Gray, though? It was getting late, but she decided to go over on the pretext of checking to see if he was feeling better. She'd talk to him, gauge his reaction. She didn't know what to say, but she'd work that out later. She had to know if he had planted the bugs.

Unfortunately, Gray didn't answer his door. She knocked again, and nothing. Had he lied to her about being sick? That certainly made him seem guilty.

But of what? Was he some kind of corporate spy? Her heart seized as she considered something awful—what if he worked for a competing restaurant and had been hired to sabotage her business? What if he was stealing Ethan's recipes and selling them? To an outsider that might sound ridiculous, but high-end restaurants were a big investment. There were millions to be made and lost. She could be ruined by a rival getting a hold of their recipes.

With that thought, she realized there was one logical place he might be. Pulse racing, she phoned the lobby of her restaurant's building and waited.

“MerTower Building, Joel speaking.”

Thank God her favorite security guard had answered. “Joel, this is Anna Claire.”

“Hey, Anna,” he greeted her cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”

“Do you remember the man who's been walking out with me in the evenings? His name is Grayson James.”

“The big fellow with the light brown hair?” he asked. “Sure.”

“Can you tell me if you've seen him come in tonight?”

“Oh, sure. He got here about twenty minutes ago. Said he had some things to do for you tonight while you were visiting with your mother.”

Another lie.

“Is there a problem?” the guard asked, worried.

“No, no. I just need to speak to him, but I'll come up there in person. No worries.”

“Must be a late night for a lot of your employees,” the guard mused.

She frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“There's been a couple of other workers come in tonight. One of them is called Keene, but I don't recall the other one's name.”

“That's odd,” she said slowly.

“Is there a problem? Should I call the police?”

“No, that's okay. I'm sure they have a good reason for being there.” Though she couldn't think what. “Thank you so much, Joel.”

“My pleasure. See you soon.”

This time, Anna didn't go on foot. She hailed a cab and was at the building in record time. As she jogged into the lobby, Joel barely had time to wave before she was stepping into the elevator.

All the way up, her mind whirled with scenarios of what Gray could be up to. It was just after midnight. The restaurant was closed now, and all the employees would have gone home. If he was stealing from her, she was going to kick his ass from here to Times Square. She'd call the police and have him thrown in jail. She wasn't worried about facing him, either. If she had trouble, she'd call downstairs and alert Joel.

At the top floor, she stepped out and into the restaurant's lobby. Flipping on the lights, she walked quietly through the main dining room, then through the kitchen doors and down the adjacent hallway to her office.

The light was on, and the door was almost shut. Rustling came from inside, and her pulse pounded. When she peered through the slit in the door, she swore she felt her heart break in half.

Gray was there. Her laptop was out on the desk, open and running. Which meant he'd broken into her cabinet to get it out. There was a flash drive beside the machine that she knew wasn't hers—wrong color. The bastard was downloading her files? Why?

Her gaze went to the file cabinet where he stood, rifling through the one containing the employee records. Names, addresses, social security numbers. All sorts of sensitive information that an identity thief would have a field day with. Anger replaced her nerves, and she pushed open the door without giving her safety a thought.

When his gaze swung to where she stood, the look on his face was priceless. He stared at her, unmoving, file in hand.

“This isn't what it looks like,” he said quietly.

“You have the gall,” she hissed, “to stand there going through my things and say that to me? So tell me what the fuck you're doing. And make it good, before I call the cops.”

Setting the file he was holding on top of the desk, he faced her squarely. It took him several moments to speak, and the words were rough as sandpaper. “Anna, I'm so sorry. This really isn't what it looks like, and before I tell you what's going on, I want you to know I never thought you were guilty of anything.”

She glared at him. “I'm trying to make sense out of that, and nothing is coming to mind.”

“Good. I'm glad, because that means you're not a part of what's going on,” he said earnestly. “Everything I've found supports your innocence, which is what I—”

“What the hell is going on here?” Her shout echoed off the walls.

Gray merely accepted her anger. Absorbed it.

“I'm an FBI agent,” he said quietly. And then he reached into his pocket, hauled out a black wallet, and showed her his badge. Her world tilted on its axis.

He might as well have said,
I'm an alien from a distant planet.
Her brain struggled to process this and assimilate it into information that made sense.

“Not a prep chef. An FBI agent.”

He nodded. “Agent Grayson James Sloane.”

“You went to Le Cordon Bleu.”

“An assignment from my director. They gave me a crash course so I could go undercover here.”

“Does Ethan know?” She was starting to feel like a fool. If her head chef had known about this all along, she'd skewer him with his own butcher knife.

“No. Nobody did. I was hired blind.”

“And if you hadn't gotten the job?”

“We'd have found another way to conduct our investigation.”

“Your investigation,” she repeated. Suddenly she felt far adrift from Gray. Like he was floating away on a strange tide and she couldn't reach him any longer. “Which is what, exactly?”

He cleared his throat. “Do you know a man by the name of Manny Delacruz? Or his older brother, Joaquin?”

“No. Should I?”

“Not necessarily. The Delacruz brothers are crooked casino owners I've been after for years. Joaquin is a billionaire, but he's got his fingers in just about every dirty pie you can imagine.”

“Which has
what
to do with me?”

“Manny planted some of his men here, in your employ. They've been using Floor Fifty-Five as the base of their drug running operation almost since you opened your doors.”

“What kind of drugs?” she asked. This could not be real.

“Cocaine.”

“How?” She shook her head. “I'm sorry, but I don't see how that's possible.”

“It's really quite easy,” he said with a tired sigh. “They're using your catering service and hauling the coke out wrapped up in empanada dough. Every time someone contracts your restaurant for their event, Manny's men add on an extra van to make a ‘special delivery.' Their scheme would've worked for years if Manny hadn't been stupid enough to place a couple of his men here who were already on the FBI's radar.”

“Have you found those responsible?”

“Yeah. We're about to make a bust, so I want you to stay away from here for the next few days.”

Moving inside her office, she approached him. Some of the shock was starting to wear off, and in its place came a sick feeling in her guts. “I'm grateful that these scumbags are going to be removed from my sight and put in prison. But that's not the whole issue here, is it?”

“No, it's not.” His beautiful eyes were begging her to understand. “I had to make sure you were innocent.”

“Did you, now?” Her voice was cold. Distant. She rounded the desk and moved into his space. “And did that entail planting the bugs I found in my apartment tonight? Ransacking my office for good measure?”

“It was my assignment,” he said hoarsely. “I had to make sure. I wanted your name cleared so we could be together.”

“And was fucking me part of your
assignment
?” she spat.

His shattered expression spoke volumes. “
No.
It wasn't like that. I mean, yes, I had to get close to you—”

“Close to me? You mean, lie to me, charm your way into my bed? Sweep my
mother
off her feet?” She gave a sad, broken laugh.

“I've had feelings for you since we first met. Don't you remember that? I wanted you as a
man
, not an agent, and my feelings are real. I'm falling for you, Anna,” he said, voice cracking.

“Falling for me? I was falling for you, too, but you blew it apart! How am I supposed to ever trust you again?”

“Anna, I love—”

“Fuck you!” she shouted, shoving him.

Just then, the door to the office swung open and two men walked inside holding weapons. Men she instantly recognized as her employees Hernandez and Keene. The latter smirked, his smile ugly.

“Look what we have here. Good thing the old goat in the lobby is so observant, right?” He glanced at his partner. “Helpful of him to let us know one of our friends was up here working late. Wonder why you'd be here this time of night, eh?”

Hernandez's dark eyes glittered. “Yeah. We've been watching you,” he said to Gray with a laugh. “You didn't really think my buddy here bought that story about your being in the restroom when you disappeared from the kitchen the other night, did you?”