Seducing the Heiress (13 page)

Chapter 20

R
obert felt as if his stomach was trying to make a break for the Texas hills through his mouth. He glanced briefly at Fletcher before turning his attention to Farrah. “That my...that my net worth is substantially more than you initially thought,” he confessed, trying to filter through the most believable scenario possible. “Fletcher thinks that should be made clear to you since we didn't have a pre-nup and you're entitled to some of it.” He swept a gaze across her expressionless face. “I have absolutely no problem giving you anything you want.”

Farrah gave a dismissive shake of her head as she entered the room and placed her electronic tablet and phone on the conference table. “Oh, well, thanks for thinking of me, Fletcher, but we all know money isn't an issue for me.”

Fletcher gave Robert a sideways glance before he said, “I get that, but I wouldn't feel right if I didn't advise you of your rights as his wife.”

“We all know we weren't married long enough for either of us to have any rights over the other,” Farrah said.

“That's not exactly true,” Fletcher said, grinning at Robert, who was holding his breath. “By my account, he could write you a check right now with a whole lot of zeroes...at least seven.”

“That won't be necessary,” Farrah replied.

“If you insist,” he said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “So what can I do for you?”

Farrah glanced at Robert. “Well, I'll leave you two to it,” he said, getting up to leave.

“There's no need for you to leave. Please...stay,” Farrah said, sitting at the conference table as both men followed suit.

Robert glanced at Fletcher, who gestured to the seat next to Farrah.

Farrah spent the next several minutes going over Felicia's request and everything she knew so far. Inwardly, Robert breathed a sigh of relief with every detail spilling out. Although Fletcher had assured Robert that their secret was safe, he was beginning to wonder if it was.

“So Felicia had no idea that she was named in this person's will?” Fletcher asked, scribbling the last of his notes on a tablet.

“None, and before she travels halfway around the world to take the meeting, we want to make sure everything's straightforward.”

“No problem. Should I send my report directly to Felicia?” Fletcher asked.

“Yes, but as her attorney, you should copy me in, as well,” she confirmed.

Fletcher nodded and stood. “I'm on it.”

Farrah stood and shook Fletcher's hand. “Thank you, and we appreciate your discretion as usual.”

“Of course,” Fletcher replied.

“I have another appointment so, Robert, if you don't mind seeing Fletcher out for me.”

“Sure.” Robert watched as Farrah left the conference room.

“A discrepancy in your net worth? Is that the best you could come up with?” Fletcher asked through gritted teeth. “I wouldn't make a mistake like that.”

“It was the first thing that popped into my mind,” Robert defended, inwardly kicking himself for being so lame.

“She's distracted. She didn't even see through that lie. Anything I can do?” Fletcher asked.

“No, we got it...or we will.”

“Good. I know you got a lot going on, but man, you gotta tell her the truth,” Fletcher said, walking to the glass door. “And soon. I'll see myself out.”

Robert perched on the edge of the conference table and stared out the window as his thoughts went back several weeks to the last time he and Farrah discussed ending their marriage.

* * *

Robert stood in the doorway of his master bedroom as he watched Farrah pack her overnight bag. “You said you'd give us time,” Robert challenged, trying to keep his voice even.

“I have...we've had months of fun, but it's time to move on.”

“Fun...you're saying this has just been fun for you?”

“And you, too,” she said, snapping the closure on her bag before moving on to collect her toiletries from the bathroom. “Our whole relationship has been centered on work and sex. Great sex, but that's all.”

“That's not true.” Robert walked up to Farrah and stared down into her eyes.

Farrah placed her right hand on his chest. “Yes, it is, and that's okay.”

“No...it's not,” Robert insisted, holding her gaze and using the thumb and index finger of his right hand to capture her chin “We have other common interests and we make each other laugh. Hell, you get the geek in me, and I understand that complex legal mind of yours. We see what's beyond the outside.”

Farrah closed her eyes, breaking eye contact. Robert dropped his hand. Farrah slowly opened her eyes again. “This was a game that went way too far. It never was supposed to be anything serious to begin with.”

“Look, we can—”

“No.” Farrah held up her hand to ward off any further protest. “We need to end this before things get weird and it starts to affect our working relationship.”

“Is that what you really want?” he asked, fisting his hands at his sides.

Farrah ignored his question and said, “I think we should have Fletcher handle this for us. He'll take care of everything quickly and quietly.”

Robert took that in for a few seconds. “Fine. I'll meet with him tomorrow, but answer my question,” he demanded with a little more force in his voice than he'd expected.

Farrah took a step back and removed her wedding band. She placed it on his nightstand and picked up her bag. “It's for the best,” she said before walking out the door.

“No, it's not,” he said to her retreating back.

“Okay, spill.”

Robert turned to find Meeks standing in the doorway of the conference room. “What was that?” Robert asked.

Meeks closed the door behind him and moved toward his best friend. “Spill.”

Robert sighed. He could float a lot past most people, but Meeks could nail him dead to rights. “You sure? You want it all this time?”

“You look like you're going to explode if you don't talk to someone. So yeah, tell me everything.”

Robert gestured to the chairs that he and Fletcher had once occupied. “We'd better sit. This could take a minute.”

* * *

“One large white chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream,” Paul said, walking into Farrah's office carrying two large coffee mugs while holding his tablet under his arm.

“Thanks. You read my mind.”

“You ready to discuss where we are with everything for the baby shower?” Paul asked, excitement written all over his face.

“I'm ready. I have a little time before my meeting with Trey.”

Paul sat in the chair across from Farrah's desk. He pulled out his tablet and addressed all the elements of the plans he and Felicia had made for the surprise baby shower they were throwing for Francine. After going through his full checklist, he looked up to find that Farrah hadn't touched her coffee yet and was staring off into space.

“You all right? Something wrong with your coffee?” he asked.

She lowered her gaze. “I'm fine and the coffee's perfect. Sounds like you have everything under control. It's going to be great.”

“So you're good with the three male strippers I ordered?”

“Sure,” she said, the cup midway to her lips. She frowned and lowered it instantly. “Wait, what?”

Paul slapped his hand on his thigh and almost rolled on the floor, he was laughing so hard. “That's what I thought. You haven't heard a word I've said.”

“Sorry, my mind was elsewhere,” Farrah said before using her tongue to swipe some whipped cream and taking a sip of her coffee.

“That's obvious,” he shot back. “What's going on?”

“I was thinking about Robert and a conversation I just had with Francine.”

“Let me guess, she told you to come clean with Robert about your feelings.” Paul lifted his cup in mock salute.

“Basically.”

“So...”

Farrah smiled, picked up her phone and sent Robert a text.
Dinner tonight...my place at seven?
She placed her phone on the folders in front of her. Within a minute her phone beeped. Farrah scooped it up, read the text and smiled. “We're having dinner tonight.”

“Good, and don't worry about the shower. Between me, Felicia, and the party planner we hired, nothing is going to fall through the cracks. It's going to be perfect, with no crazy surprises,” he assured with a great deal of confidence.

“I'm not worried,” she said, then asked, “No strippers, right?”

“You just concentrate on that serious conversation you're going to have with Robert tonight.”

Farrah's eyes scanned the photos of her parents and Francine's wedding pictures that sat on a small side table in the corner of her office. “I will. I'm done running. Robert's not the playboy that I thought he was. I know in my heart that I can trust him.” Farrah went to her safe. Her jewelry box was sitting on top of that large manila envelope Robert had given her that she'd finally gotten around to opening. “And, I have something I need to return.”

Chapter 21

“L
et me make sure I understand.” Meeks scratched his nose. “After you and Farrah wrapped the case in Vegas, you spent a little time playing. You ran into some old college friends of Farrah's and you all gambled together.
You
started losing intentionally, which required you two to complete a dare, which turned out to be that you both had to get married...to each other...which you did.”

Robert offered a slow nod. “Yep.”

“And because you two...hit it off so well, you decided to stay married a while. Only now Farrah's decided to end it before things get weird. Only because you love her, you lied about getting the divorce she insisted upon,” Meeks said, frowning.

“That about sums it up. You know, this really is your fault.”

Meeks threw his head back, laughed and clapped once. “My fault...how is any of this my fault?”

“You sent me to help out on that case when we both know if wasn't necessary. You just wanted to keep Francine from going. You were in your ‘I'll do anything to keep Francine near me' phase. Well, you got that now, and all you had to do was get married to her and knock her up with your twins.”

Both men laughed. “You better not let Francine hear you say that,” Meeks warned.

“No,
you
better not let her hear me say that,” Robert countered.

“This isn't about us. It's about you and Farrah and how you plan to handle things moving forward.”

Robert's phone started dancing across the conference room table. He picked it up, stared at the screen and smiled. “Farrah just pushed our dinner back to eight.”

“Good, that'll give you time to figure out what you're going to say. You have to tell her everything, and if I were you, I'd start with how you feel,” Meeks suggested.

“You think that'll take the sting out of my lie?”

“Hell, no, this is a Blake sister we're talking about. She'll be pissed regardless, but at least she'll understand why you did it.”

“I hope so. I really can't lose her,” Robert said, lowering his head slightly.

* * *

“So...who is it?”

Farrah looked up from the document she'd been reviewing. “What?”

“Who's the person that's stopping you from having dinner with me?” Trey asked from the doorway.

Farrah groaned. “No one's stopping me from doing anything. I choose not to have dinner or anything else with you because you're possibly the most arrogant man I've ever met. Not to mention a huge player,” Farrah said, tapping her pen against the table.

“I'm not arrogant. I'm confident...and determined.” Trey entered Farrah's office, smiling as he took the seat across from her desk. “And I'm not a player. I may be a serial dater, but I don't date more than one woman at a time.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I have a mother, hell, and two sisters for that matter, and they'd all kick my ass.”

Farrah laughed. “Now
that
I believe.”

“Now that that's all cleared up, who's got your attention?” He scanned her desk and his gaze landed on a set of drawings. “Wait, let me guess. Mr. Technology himself.”

“My personal life's off-limits,” she warned. “Besides, what if I'm just not interested?”

“Not possible. Look at me. Add to that, I'm brilliant and just as rich as you,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Farrah dropped her pen and glared at him. “Do you hear yourself?”

“You have to admit, I'd at least garner one date if your mind wasn't already elsewhere.”

Farrah rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I'll drop it.” Trey raised both hands. “Seriously though, whoever he is, he's a very lucky man. Now as for the response, once you get the affidavit from the forger, you'll be good to go, but you knew that already.”

“Indeed.”

“Then why go along with this expensive endeavor?” Trey questioned with a scowl. “You knew you hadn't made any errors with your initial filings, and once you find the forger, you'll have all the proof you need to win the case. Nine times out of ten, you wouldn't even have to appear in court,” Trey explained.

“I know that, but the board still insisted on a second opinion, so to speak.”

“Well, you got the co-signer you needed, and I got a lot of billable hours to babysit the work of a brilliant, beautiful woman. If you don't find your answers, you have some additional options you can explore.” Trey stood and stared down at Farrah. “For now, my work here is done.”

Farrah stood and extended her hand. “Thank you. Until next time, Mr. Steel.”

Trey gifted Farrah with a wide smile, took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Until next time, Ms. Blake.”

* * *

“Boss, you got a second?” Robert's assistant, Jeremy, asked as he entered the office holding his iPad.

Robert looked up from his computer. “What's up?”

“We ran a trace on that bank account number you got from Butch Johnson and something strange popped up,” Jeremy said, removing his glasses and placing them on his head, concealing them in his curly black hair.

“What?”

Jeremy's six-foot form hovered in front of Robert's desk as he explained. “The number was tied to one of our company's old inactive accounts. I mean really old accounts, like from several years ago when Ted Jefferson worked here. This means someone from the inside had to work this out,” he handed Robert his iPad.

Robert looked down at the screen and frowned. “So are you thinking Junior and his father are behind all this?”

“That I don't know. What I
do
know is there hasn't been any activity on this account in years, and this transaction took place long after Senior was dead,” Jeremy explained.

Robert sat with his right hand over his mouth and gave Jeremy a slow nod.

“Someone could be using the Jeffersons to do their dirty work,” Jeremy offered.

Robert lowered his hand to his desk. “Junior did say he didn't find out about any of this until someone brought it to his attention.”

“Who?”

“I don't know. Junior won't say. He was basically
told
that it was his father's last wish for him to seek acknowledgment and compensation for Senior's so-called designs. Designs Junior actually believes we stole from his father. Designs that he wasn't even capable of creating, according to Farrah's father.”

“So he could be a victim in this, too? But who's pulling his strings?” Jeremy asked.

Robert shrugged. “Maybe this Ruby Lee—or should I say, Lee Rugby—can help us answer that question.”

“Yeah, about that?”

“What about it?” Robert asked, his confusion clear.

“I know Alexia Gray told Farrah to look for information in her files under Lee Rugby, but everything we found led to a dead end. The burner cell phone numbers, bank accounts connected to shell companies that transferred money to accounts in the Virgin Islands, and several grainy surveillance photos.” Jeremy scratched his head.

“Send the pictures down to the lab for processing. Let's see what they can come up with.”

“Yes, sir.” Jeremy turned to leave, only to halt his progress. He turned and said, “I hate to say it, boss, but this is more sophisticated than anything that Alexia could pull off on her own.”

“I agree.” Robert cracked his knuckles. “I put the name Lee Rugby through every database you can think of, and even a few you aren't aware of, and there's nothing. It's like this person doesn't even...
exist
.”

Jeremy's brown eyes widened. “You think Alexia lied? That she knows more than what she's sharing or she's even holding something back?”

“No, she wouldn't take a chance on anything happening to that Blige girl. She gave us everything she had. What I think is that she might be being used, too, but doesn't realize it.”

“By who?”

“That's the million-dollar question. I think I know who can help us figure it out,” Robert said with a grin. “Get Charles in here. I need him and his team to make a quick trip.”