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Authors: Patricia Paris

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BOOK: A Murderous Game
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The muscle in his jaw flinched. How
could he be so cold, look so hard, and still be so handsome? She took a breath.
Scratch that thought and go back to the one about how unfair he's being.

"Contrary to what you believe,
I am not hung up on you. I had absolutely no plans to seduce you. For you to
think I might stalk you is so ludicrous it's laughable."

His expression shifted from
thunderous to thunderstruck. She didn't want to lose her momentum to do a
temperature check, though. "There's that." She charged forward before
she could change her mind. "And anyone who would hold a grudge against a
fifteen-year-old kid simply because they let their imagination run away with
them really is a coldhearted machine. One of the articles I read about you used
that term."

She raised her chin and tried to
look down her nose at him, not an easy feat given he had almost a foot on her.
"People grow up, you know." She gave him a tight smile. "At
least
some
of us do."

He crossed his ankles. "Is any
of this babbling supposed to make sense to me?"

Abby took offense to that.
"One person's babbling is another person's cleansing." She smiled at
his consternation. "I'm cleansing.
Scrub, scrub."
She brushed her hand back and forth against her thigh with mock exaggeration.

Gage pushed away from the desk.
"If you think you can put two words together that make sense and explain
what wanting to seduce me has to do with scrubbing yourself, maybe we could
wrap this ridiculous scene up so I can get back to work."

"No, no." Abby shook a
finger in the air. "I do not want to seduce you. That, Mr. Faraday, is the
whole point."

"What point?" he said in
a growl, apparently at the end of his patience. 

"That if you're so unforgiving
you threw me off the account because you
imagine
I have some unrequited
love thing going for you—" She looked away for a minute because she knew
that wasn't all of it, but she was really mad. "And yeah, my dad's a jerk,
but I can't control that, and I don't think it's fair to hold his actions
against me." She huffed then plowed on. "The point is, maybe you're
the one who needs to do a cleansing, not me."

Gage gave his head a hard shake.
"What in the name of God are you talking about? And don't start in with
that damn cleansing shit because I'm just not getting it."

"I'm talking about why you
took me off the account."

"And you believe it's
because?"

Abby wrinkled her brow. Why was he
asking her because? "Who's playing games now?" She arched her brows.

Gage looked as if he might grab her
shoulders and shake her up a bit. "Can we go back a step?" He
clenched his jaw. "And don't you dare tell me to say
mother may I,
or I swear I'll pick you up and throw you out of here myself."

"Aren't you just full of humor
all of sudden," Abby mocked.

His eyes flared. "Just tell me
why the hell you think I don't want you handling the account, damn it!"
His words rang in her ears.

Abby sighed. "Because you're
unforgiving, not to mention unrealistic, if you think I've been walking around
carrying a torch for you, and you had to give me the boot or I'd be stalking
you."

He stared at her for several
seconds and then walked over to the bar. "Let me get this straight."
He pulled out a bottle and a glass. "You don't mind, do you?" He held
up the bottle. Abby shook her head. "You want me to believe that you think
I fired you because I thought you had the
hots
for
me?"

"I guess that's one way to put
it. But I don't." Well she did, but she'd never admit it, and besides, she
was quickly starting not to like him very much.

He took some ice from the
minifridge
and dropped it into the glass. "
And
you're going to stalk me?"

"I most definitely am
not."

He filled the glass one-third full
from the bottle and topped it off with water. He stirred the drink slowly then
lifted it to his mouth, watching her over the rim as he took a sip.

"Do you really expect me to
believe this nonsense?" he asked.

"Of course you believe it. Why
else would you have changed your mind?"

His expression started to cloud
over again. "Because," he stressed the word, "you lied to me.
You pretended to be an innocent account manager when all the time you were
hoping I'd hire you so you could try to dig up something to discredit
GFI."

"What!?"
Abby gaped at him. Why would he think she'd want to discredit him? He was her
client.

"I'll admit you fooled me.
You're a great little actress. If my security chief hadn't gotten that picture
of you and your husband, you might even have gotten away with it."

Abby froze, realization turning her
stomach sour.
Wrong secret
, a little voice whispered in her head.

"Oh,
God!"
She brought a hand to her mouth.

"What's the matter,
Mrs
.
Carpenter?" Gage sneered. "Were you really planning to seduce me? Was
it your husband's idea, or did you come up with that on your own? I can't deny
you're an attractive woman. Perhaps I should have kept you around a few more
days to see just how far you would have gone to get what you wanted."

Abby tried to blink away a wave of
dizziness. "This is all about Dick." She steadied her breathing,
still absorbing the realization. "You…you got rid of me because of
Dick."

"I don't have anymore time for
this." Gage walked back to the desk, his steps quick, angry. "I'm
calling security."

"You're wrong," Abby
said. "You're so very wrong."

"No, you were wrong to try to
get information for that bastard to use against GFI. You should have known when
he spouted off at the press conference I'd have him investigated."

She shook her head. "You're
making a mistake. I wasn't trying—"

"Save it!" he barked as
he picked up the phone. "I know everything about you I need to know. My
investigators are very thorough. By the time I get through with you and your
husband you'll wish you'd never been foolish enough to cross me."

He had believed the worst of her
without even asking her about it, without giving her a chance to explain. He'd
accused her, tried her, and found her guilty by association. Now he wanted to
punish her and nothing she could say would change his mind. So be it; she had
her pride.

"Oh yeah, well guess what. You
don't know everything, not even close." If and when he discovered the
truth, she hoped he realized no one would have worked as hard to make
Riv
One a success as she would have.

He dialed a number. "This is
Faraday. I need a security guard up here right away."

He was going to have her thrown
out. Something inside her revolted. She would not beg him to listen or plead to
be put back on the account, but she did feel an itching desire to teach the man
a lesson.

"You'll probably get a good
enough product with Billings."
She tried to sound like none of it bothered her. "If you'd kept me, you
would have gotten the best damn marketing campaign you've ever seen." She
shrugged. "Oh well, your loss."

Gage hung up the phone and sat back
down in his chair. He opened the file on his desk and started reading.

"Is that your way of
dismissing me?" Abby tucked a stray piece of hair back into place. No
response. She shifted. "You ought to have that wonderful security team of
yours do a little more digging, Mr. Faraday. You might be surprised by what
they uncover."

Gage set aside the top piece of
paper and moved on to the next one.

"They only discovered a piece
of the truth, you know." He continued to ignore her. Man she'd love to
rock his socks off. It would serve him right.

The elevator bell sounded out in
the lobby. Abby swallowed. "Whatever happened to that old blue Mustang you
used to have?"

Gage's head snapped up. Abby
smiled.

"Did you know Kelly Samuels
has four kids now and weighs about three hundred pounds?" He had such a
strange look on his face she almost laughed.

"Who the hell is Kelly
Samuels?"

Footsteps sounded behind her and
Abby looked over her shoulder. A big beefy guard was halfway across the lobby.

"Bye, Gage." She turned
and walked out of his office. No one would drag her out kicking and screaming.
She'd leave with her head high.

"And how do you know about
that old Mustang?" he yelled after her.

Abby smiled. He was a smart guy;
let him figure it out.

CHAPTER
FIVE

 

W
ednesday evening of the
following week, Abby walked briskly toward O'Malley's Pub where she was meeting
Rachael for dinner. O'Malley's was a favorite hangout for the professional set,
serving good, moderate priced food in the dining area, and sports casting in
the bar. Wednesday's were two-for-one ladies' night, which meant not only more
women, but more men as well.

Since her last encounter with Gage,
she had settled into a satisfying state of numb. With the exception of Rachael,
from whom Abby could hide nothing for too long, no one knew what lurked behind
the calm expression she showed the world.

Abby grimaced. If she kept it up,
she'd be checking under the bed for monsters before she went to sleep at night.
Wasn't life just like that, though? Get rid of one and up pops another.
Now that her divorce was final, she'd stopped killing Dick and
focused her talents on another deserving victim—Harold Billings.

She'd murdered him twice that day
alone. First when he taunted her with details of the meeting he'd had with
Gage. And again when he dumped three of his worst accounts on her desk with the
pointedly jabbing explanation that Norwell wanted him to free himself up to
focus on River Place One.

As she rounded the corner, she saw
Rachael just getting out of a cab and picked up her pace. "
Rach
," she called, drawing her friend's attention
before she could go into the pub.

"Divorce becomes you,"
Rachael said, giving Abby a hug. "You look great."

Abby kissed her on the cheek.
"Reminders of my divorce do bring a smile to my face, but you don't have
to lie about the other. I know I look like hell."

"Says who?"

"Billings." Abby linked her arm through
Rachael's as they walked into the pub. She spotted an open table near the bar
and made a beeline for it. "In fact," she added, dropping into one of
the chairs, "just this afternoon Harold came into my office and said,
Y
ou
know, Abigail, you look like hell. Why don't
you drop by my place later, and I bet I could put some color back in those
cheeks
."

Rachael snorted with disgust.
"What a scum sucker." She tucked her purse under the table. "I
hope you got back at him."

"When I left the office,
boiling oil was seeping into every disgusting cavity of his body."

Rachael laughed. "I'm glad I'm
on your side."

While they waited for their server
to bring menus, Rachael told Abby about a public interest piece she'd been
working on. Tonight would be the third time they'd gone out since Saturday,
when Rachael had taken Abby to dinner to celebrate her divorce. Abby knew
Rachael's motives for trying to keep her busy and loved her all the more for
them.

After Saturday's dinner, they'd
gone back to Abby's. Rachael had sat Abby down and said, S
pill it. We're
supposed to be celebrating, and you look about as happy as a basset hound.
Over a bottle of champagne, Abby had confided what she now referred to as the
misadventures of Abby and Gage.

"Let's do a Cape
May getaway weekend." Rachael sat back and crossed her legs.
"It'd be fun. We can stay at
Owen's
bed and
breakfast. He's been bugging me to come for a visit."

"And the change of scenery
would probably be good for me, right?"

"Well it would." Rachael
picked up her water and glanced around the restaurant. "The shore won't be
too crowded yet. We could—" Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply
before swinging her gaze back to Abby.

Abby started to look over her
shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"No! Keep looking at me."
Rachael sounded urgent. "No matter what I say, just keep looking at
me."

Abby nodded. Rachael was alarming
her. Like maybe a faceless, sickle carrying man in a black hood and robe stood
right behind Abby's back.

"Do
not
turn
around." Rachael reached for a roll and began buttering it. "Now,
drink some water, or get a roll, just look casual."

Abby took a drink. She set her
glass back down and tried to appear unaffected, even though she had no idea
why. "You're making me nervous here. Now tell me why the hell I'm trying
to look casual before I freak out and make a dash for the door."

"No! Don't get up. Okay,
honey, smile back at me," Rachael said through gritted teeth. "And
don't react, but Gage Faraday is at the bar."

Abby stiffened. She couldn't look
because that announcement had frozen her in place. Had he seen her? Would he
come over and insult her? Oh God, did he think she was stalking him?

"Breathe," Rachael said.
"You look like you're going to pass out."

"I'm breathing." She
inhaled. "Okay, now I'm done. Let's go."

"We can't. He's boring holes
into the back of your head, and if you get up and leave, he's going to know
it's because you know he's here."

"And he'd be right." Abby
gripped the seat of her chair, ready to push up. 

"Is that what you want? Are
you going to run every time your paths cross? What are you going to do when he
comes to the firm for a meeting? Go hide out in the ladies' room?"

Abby's shoulders drooped.
"You're right. Knee-jerk reaction, I've been known to have them in
situations where there's a high risk I'll be humiliated in front of lots of
people."

BOOK: A Murderous Game
10.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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