Revenge for Hire (The Get Even Agency) (20 page)

“Gloat?” The word struck him as odd. Then again, Mandy would
revel at his misfortune.

“Oh yeah, because guess where my hot little
tush
is sitting?” she purred.

Damn it. Simon hadn’t. No wonder she was gloating.

“In my new office. In my new chair. At my new desk.” She
giggled. “Only the previous occupant left a bunch of junk to clear out. Would
you like me to box up your things and send them over to your place? Perhaps you
could sell them on eBay to raise some cash.”

“Why would I need to raise cash?” he asked, keeping his voice
level. His heart pounded while he waited for her to answer, distrust rising
with each passing second.

“Your reputation is down the drain, and you just got fired from
your job.” Her glee over the news radiated through the phone connection. “You
tell me, love. Why would you need cash?”

“A job I lost for reportedly selling company secrets.” He
wouldn’t touch the gay issue. Not with Marcus sitting here and ready to blow
his top if one more person mentioned his supposed sexual preference. Jude
wasn’t too pleased with the implications, either, but he’d never let Mandy see or
hear him sweat. “In which case, money shouldn’t be an issue.”

Unless Mandy knew he hadn’t sold secrets and that his accounts
had been frozen.

Which made more sense than any other conclusion he’d been able
to come up with thus far.

“You know, if you need a letter of recommendation, I’m sure I
could find it in my heart to give you one.” Her offer grated on his nerves. “I
could even talk to daddy and see if he’d give you one.”

Now that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. No way would
Simon give a suspected company traitor a recommendation. Mandy was insane.

“Why would he do that?”

“Perhaps we could do dinner at my place and discuss it.” Her
words were full of invitation.

“No.” He’d rot in hell before he’d dine with her. Especially
now that his respect for Simon had been splintered. The man should know Jude
would never sell out the company. The fact he hadn’t stung.

“Oh, honey, you know daddy would forgive you if we decided to
get back together. We’d convince him this whole mess was just an aberration.”

“Under no circumstances will we ever get back together. I’ve
told you that before.” What was Mandy’s angle? Was she behind the sold secrets?

“Yes, but your circumstances have drastically changed. Unless
you really are gay? I always did think you dressed too well for a straight man.”

What was wrong with how he dressed? Just because he liked to
look good did not mean he preferred men.

“Anyway,” Mandy continued. “I thought you might have
reconsidered in light of the day’s events.”

“You thought wrong.”

“Face facts, Jude.” Nails tapping against a desk—his
desk—pounded in Jude’s ears. “You need me,” she said. “I’m the only one who can
pull you out of this mess.”

“What mess?”

“This problem with your job, your reputation, your accounts,
your apartment.”

His apartment? What was wrong with his apartment? And how the
hell had Mandy known about his accounts?

“All of which are none of your business.”

“Fine,” she practically cooed, “but if you change your mind,
you know where to find me.” She paused. “And, you will change your mind, love.”

The second he closed his phone, he told Marcus, “Mandy’s behind
this.”

Marcus placed his hand over the mouth piece of the phone he
held. “Mandy Sims? She isn’t smart enough to be behind this.”

“She knew about the accounts.”

Marcus’ eyebrow rose.

“She mentioned my apartment.”

Marcus frowned. “Your apartment? What’s going on with your
apartment?”

“Hell if I know, but I’m going to go find out.”

* * *

“Cockroaches?” Jude stared at the building’s superintendent. “Since
when?”

The barely over a hundred pounds man shrugged his bony
shoulders and spoke around an over-sized wad of bubble-gum. “Got a call that
your place was crawling with them. Couldn’t risk an infestation settling into
the whole building, so your place got sprayed. It’ll be Monday before you can
go in due to the chemicals used.”

He couldn’t go into his apartment?

“Why wasn’t I notified? What the hell am I supposed to do about
clothes?”

The man scratched his head. “I called and spoke with your
secretary—-nice lady, by the way. She said to go ahead and do whatever was
needed.”

“My secretary?”

“Whoever answers your office phone. She said you were out, but
to go ahead and do the apartment as you were going to be out of town till next
week.”

Angela said that?
 

“I’m not out of town.”

“You don’t say?” The man chomped on the piece of chewing gum
and rocked back on his heels, eyeing Jude.

“What am I supposed to do?”

He shrugged, the blue coveralls shifting to reveal a gaunt
collarbone. “Stay at your Mom’s or your girlfriend’s. A nice looking bloke like
you shouldn’t have any problems finding a place to stay the night.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” True enough. Angel was much more. Yet,
he couldn’t even call her his girlfriend.

The man blew a bubble and popped it. His amused gaze ran over
Jude’s stylish hair, designer jeans, and leather shoes. He shook his bald head.
“Pity.”

Pity? That’s all he had to say? The man was denying him access
to his apartment and all he could say was pity?

“Aren’t you that gay fellow in the papers? Maybe you could stay
with that lawyer buddy.”

Jude was reaching his boiling point. The place where he was
going to lose his cool and snap at everyone around him.

Deciding he should leave before he snapped on the super, he left.

He whipped out his cell phone and called the editorial assistant
who had gotten him the information on Joy Long.

“Harriet?
Shh
, don’t let on that it’s
me,” he quickly warned at her gasp of surprise. “I know you’ve probably heard
all kinds of crazy rumors, but anything negative about me isn’t true. That’s
not why I’m calling.”

He took a breath.

“I need to know a couple of things to sort out what’s really
going on and am hoping you’ll help me.” He took a deep breath. “Just so you
know, there’s probably nothing I’ll ever be able to do in return, except to be
grateful.”

Silence, then a quiet, “What do you need to know?”

When Jude hung up the phone, he felt some better. Among other
things, Harriet was going to track down the temporary agency Angela worked for.
If by no other means, he’d trace her through them.

According to Harriet, she hadn’t stayed at the office but a few
minutes after he’d left. Odds were someone else took the super’s call and gave
the go-ahead on doing his apartment. Probably Mandy since she’d known.

His apartment. He’d been there for several years and had never
seen a single cockroach. Not a one. He was supposed to buy that today his
apartment was full of them? He didn’t. Nor did he buy that any of this was a
coincidence.

Someone was screwing with his life, and he knew exactly who to
blame for the whole mess.

* * *

Jude offered the doorman, a different one on duty than the
night he’d picked up Angela, a hundred to let him inside the building.

The forty-
ish
black man scoffed at
the bill. “Perhaps you should leave before I call for backup.”

“You don’t need backup. I’m not here to cause problems. I just
want to speak with Angela Greene. She lives in the building.”

“Angela Greene?” The man scratched his head. “Man, I shouldn’t
even be telling you this, but there isn’t an Angela Greene in this building.”

“You personally know every occupant?” Impossible.

“Most of them, Man. I’ve been working here for over fifteen
years. Same folks go in and out every day.” He shook his head. “No Angela
Greene.”

“There has to be. I picked her up here just two nights ago.”

“Perhaps it was a friend’s address or your woman friend gave
you a bogus name, but no Angela Greene.”

Jude rubbed his hand over his face, trying to figure out what
was next. He needed to talk to Angela. Without the Playhouse connection, he had
no way to get in touch with her until Harriet came through with the temporary
agency information. It would probably be Monday before Harriet got back to him
on that. Monday was too long to wait.

A taxi pulled up and a redhead got out. A familiar redhead. Angela’s
friend. What had her name been?

“Patrice?”

The doorman frowned, but didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Jude
could tell by the man’s face that he knew the woman by a different name.

Red glanced up, met his gaze, and never showed the slightest
bit of surprise at seeing him. Which shocked him. It was the middle of a
workday, she couldn’t have been expecting him, she should be surprised.

“Jude,” she drawled his name. “What are you doing here?” She
clucked her tongue and pretended to be thoughtful. “Oh wait, I know. You’re
looking for your favorite temp. Unfortunately she’s not here and won’t be
back.”

“Won’t be back? Where is she?”

Red shrugged. “Not really sure. She asked if she could meet you
here a couple nights ago and my friend and I let her.” Her face took on a
scandalous expression. “I think she’s hiding something, but that’s just a
hunch.”

“A hunch? Don’t you know?”

Red shrugged again. “I barely know the woman. She’s the friend
of a friend of a friend who asked to hang out with me a while back. Occasionally
she hangs with us.”

“Do you know how to get in touch with her?”

“She’s very private.”

Jude glanced around, finding his earlier frustration didn’t
begin to compare to that surging through him at the thought he had no way to
find his Angel.

“Do me a favor.” He pulled out his wallet and removed a
business card. A Playhouse Magazine business card. He sighed, then scribbled
his cell phone number on the back of the card. “If you see her, give her this.”

“
Jeeze
, you’re just full of needing
favors, aren’t you?”

She referred to Marcus at the club.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He raked his fingers through his hair,
glanced around the street in vain hope of spotting Angela. “And,” he hesitated,
hating to bare his soul to a practical stranger with the doorman listening in,
but he had to impress the importance of getting the message to Angela, “tell
her I’m willing to work through whatever issues she has.”

“Issues she has? After the stuff I read in the papers today,
I’d say you’re the one with the issues.”

Jude frowned, not liking the way the doorman and Red watched
him. “Yeah, well, you’re old enough to know better than to believe everything
you read in the papers. If you see Angela, tell her to call me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because,” damn it, he did not want to lay it on the line, but
something in Red’s eyes said she wouldn’t accept anything less than the truth, Jude
exhaled, called himself a hundred kinds of fool, then admitted, “I love her.”

* * *

Randi burst into the apartment, causing Avery and Cassidy to
both jump. Payback Puss raised his head, yawned, then curled back into
Cassidy’s lap. “Were you guys watching the front entrance surveillance camera
by any chance?”

Avery took in Randi’s flushed cheeks and her livid with
excitement eyes. What had happened?

“
Uhm
, no,” Cassidy said, caressing
the cat. “Should we have been?”

“Oh yeah.” Randi stood at the end of the sofa and placed both hands
on her hips. “Jude Layman was trying to bribe the doorman to tell him where
‘Angela Greene’ lived.”

Avery’s heart slammed into her throat. Jude was here? She
touched her hair. “What?”

Randi walked over, gave Payback Puss an apologetic stroke, and
grinned. “You heard me. Lover boy was downstairs trying to give the doorman a
hundred to tell him which apartment was yours.”

Avery ran her hand over her long braid, making sure it was in
place. Just in case Randi had invited Jude up. Which was ridiculous. Of course
Randi wouldn’t do that.

“But what cash he has on him is all he’s got until you release
his bank accounts.” It didn’t make sense. “Why would he waste his money like
that?”

Cassidy eyed her knowingly, stroking Payback Puss’ fur and
eliciting a contended purr. “Perhaps he doesn’t view finding you as a waste of
money.”

It was a thought, but not one she’d entertain. To do that just
caused her ovaries to ache all the more. She did ache. Not from her nightly
activities, but from the gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be.