Chance Encounter (21 page)

Brennan sat offstage, behind curtains, watching the press conference on the closed-circuit television he’d requested ahead of time. If he’d shown his face, questions that had nothing to do with Kacie’s new job would have been asked. He was here to protect her, not add fuel to the firestorm of gossip already raging about them.

She sat behind a table along with cosmetic and fashion icon Julian Montague, several of Montague’s executives, and Sandi Winston, a gray-haired, pleasant-faced woman Kacie had introduced as her publicist.

So far the announcement had gone off without a hitch. In broad, sweeping terms, Montague described his vision for his company and how Kacie Dane would be the new Montague It Girl, hopefully for years to come. The newest fragrance, Innocence Revealed, had been designed with Kacie in mind. The newest clothing line, Sweet and Sassy, would carry the tag
A Kacie Dane Exclusive by Montague
. The new line of cosmetics was created with the intent to make fresh-faced and wholesome a fashion trend.

Montague was putting a lot on the line. Brennan understood why Kacie had insisted she had to alert Montague about the threats against her and the possibility of exposure. Even though Kacie had been an innocent victim, the media could spin what happened to her in a thousand different ways. Brennan knew from bitter experience how one tiny thread of doubt could be woven into an entire blanket of cruel innuendos and suppositions.

He admired the way Julian Montague stood behind Kacie when he learned about her attack, and her real name. That said a lot about the man and his integrity.

Other than what he’d read online, Brennan knew very little about Montague. The man was purported to be a genius, and not only in designing, and was reportedly very hands-on with the daily operation of his many businesses.
 

He remembered that Vanessa had tried to attract the designer’s attention years ago and failed. Just one of the many failures that had led to so many damn problems for them.
 

Brennan studied the sea of faces in the audience. He’d been trained to detect danger in expressions and body language. Always expecting shit to happen gave him a hyper-alert sensitivity.
 

No one stood out as being evil or bent on any agenda other than learning about the Montague campaign and Kacie’s upcoming location shoots. Brennan allowed his shoulders a small, incremental easing. Keeping one ear open to the questions being asked and his eyes focused on the audience, he let his mind wander to the coming meeting he and Kacie had later today.

The Kacie Dane Foundation was located in Midtown. Kacie had told him she worked out of the center infrequently, preferring to stay behind the scenes, allowing her excellent staff to handle the day-to-day operations of the charity. Though she was the driving force behind it, and unapologetically used her celebrity status to garner attention as well as funding, she’d freely admitted that she had absolutely no training in regards to how to run a charity or how to counsel the young women who came to the center. She’d told him that being a victim of physical abuse and rape didn’t qualify her to know what to do to help others.

He liked that about her. Liked that she understood her limits but did everything within her power to help others any way she could. There were way too many things he liked about her. Probably the only thing he didn’t like was that she was a successful, sought-after model who was only going to get more famous. Brennan didn’t belong in her world, and the minute he knew the danger was over and she was safe, he was out of here. This was not the kind of life he ever wanted again.

And there was another reason he and Kacie could never match. He would be hell on her career. Yeah, he’d found a few people in New York who didn’t hate his guts, but he was still one of the most disliked sports figures in the country. He’d made the mistake of reading an article not too long ago that had included a poll ranking the most hated athletes in the sports world. He’d been number three on the list.
 

It didn’t matter that he had never even been a suspect in the kidnapping and death of his son. Because he had refused to give interviews or even discuss what happened, the media had called in “expert” after “expert” to analyze his state of mind, posing hypotheticals that put him at the center of the kidnapping plot. Added with Vanessa’s parents’ claims of abuse and neglect, and Brennan couldn’t have ended up looking more guilty.
 

No, he liked Kacie way too much to taint what would be—once the lunatic tormenting her was caught—a long, successful, and scandal-free career for her. He was here to do a job, then he’d be out of her life forever.
 

Today’s meeting would give him the chance to personally meet her staff. Along with his specialized training, he had an ingrained bullshit detector. If he met the person behind these “attacks” on Kacie, he felt sure he’d be able to perceive something off. And even if he couldn’t, he wanted to get a look at her employees. Each person, no matter how small their connection to Kacie, was under scrutiny. No one was above suspicion.

A slight, sudden movement in the audience caught his eye. Was someone sitting behind that tall woman, second row from the back? Brennan leaned forward. Yeah, he definitely saw movement, but the person appeared to be hunkered down in his seat. Why would anyone do such a thing unless he was there for nefarious reasons?
 

Brennan stood, about to head to the back of the conference room. If he could, he would extricate the guy without too much disruption. If he couldn’t, so be it. Kacie’s safety trumped causing a scene.

A hand shot out from behind the woman, and Brennan went for his gun beneath his jacket. He stopped in mid-movement when he realized the man had his hand up to ask a question. Still not convinced that there wasn’t a threat, Brennan kept his hand on his Glock. The guy was acting strangely.

The moderator called on the man, and the instant he stood, Brennan knew why the prick had been hiding.
Carlton Lorrance.
Hell, he couldn’t shoot the guy for being an asshole, could he?
 

“Congratulations on the new gig, Kacie. In light of your reputation as being the face of wholesome innocence, I was wondering why you’re dating a man many people believe murdered his son and his wife?”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Kacie wanted to groan, loud and long. It had all been going so well. The announcement had gone off like a dream, and the questions being asked had been as smooth as if Julian Montague had written them himself.
 

Now this. What was this guy’s problem?

She glanced over at the fashion mogul, who wasn’t bothering to hide his fury that his press conference had been hijacked by a petty, malicious man who clearly wanted to make news that had nothing to do with fashion.

Before she could come up with an appropriate comeback, Julian gave a response that any diva worth her salt would have loved to have come up with.

“Excuse me, but what does that have to do with my designs? This conference is to talk about me—not Ms. Dane’s private affairs. Am. I. Clear?”

Carlton Lorrance shrank back into his seat as if his legs had given out on him.

Julian glanced over at the moderator. “I’ll allow one more
pertinent
question.”

Thankfully, someone up front asked a question about the timing for the first magazine ad. Julian answered the question, and at last the press conference was over.

Kacie pulled the mic off the collar of her dress and stood. Though she loved many things about her chosen profession, press conferences were one of her least favorite tasks. She understood the necessity for them and certainly appreciated good press when it came her way. However, she always worried about what might be asked. Especially since she had more than enough secrets to fill every tabloid for months if they were ever discovered.

“Well, other than that small bit of unpleasantness near the end, I believe that went quite well,” Julian said.

What a pleasure to work with someone who was not only brilliant but a genuinely kind person, too. The minute she’d seen him today, she had thanked him again for his support and not withdrawing his offer because of her past. He had shushed her immediately and, with a twinkle in his eyes, told her he was just glad she had survived so she could wear his masterpieces.

Kacie shook his hand, about to apologize for Lorrance’s disgusting and inappropriate question, when Brennan came to stand beside her. She halted abruptly when he caught her elbow and looked down at the designer, who was an inch or two shorter than Kacie. Brennan’s overwhelming presence would’ve intimidated most people. Julian Montague wasn’t one of them.

“Mr. Sinclair, what a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you, too, sir. I apologize for the question about my past.”

“You owe me no apologies. That man is a hideous toad and will not be invited back to any of my press conferences.”

“You got that right,” Brennan muttered softly. He said it so quietly she knew Julian hadn’t heard him, but she had, along with his tone of satisfaction.
 

As he continued to talk with the designer, his voice pleasant and friendly, she knew a moment of amazement. He sounded as relaxed as any man talking football with another guy, but she felt the tension in his body—he was positively vibrating. He was furious, and she suspected he’d done something about, or to, Lorrance, but he was somehow able to control the anger. That kind of control was both fascinating and scary. And okay, a little hot, too.

“We’d love to have dinner when we return. Wouldn’t we, darling?”

Brennan squeezed her arm, reminding her to stay in the moment. Julian had asked them to dinner at his house when they returned from Barbados.

“Yes, thank you. We’d love to come.”

“Fine…fine. I’ll have my assistant set it up.” He glanced down at his watch. “Now I must go. Meetings to go to, people to devour.” He grinned at his own humor, air-kissed Kacie, shook Brennan’s hand again, and then was gone.

The instant she was sure no one could hear them, she asked, “What did you do about Lorrance?”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Making it clear she wouldn’t get anything else from him until they were alone, he took her elbow and gently but inexorably guided her to the exit.

Chapter Twenty-two

Brennan ushered Kacie into the elevator and pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, where her foundation offices were housed. He’d answered her questions about what he’d done about Carlton Lorrance as best he could under the circumstances. She didn’t need to know just how ruthless he could be. Soon, Carlton Lorrance would have much more to worry about than an exposé on a former sports figure. He’d be too busy trying to cover his own ass.

“You have six employees working here. Correct?”

Kacie nodded. “Five full-time, one part-time. When we have a major fundraiser, like we had a few weeks ago, we bring in temps.”

“How many temporary employees did you bring in for that?”

“I’ll have to check with Molly, but I think maybe about ten.”

The list of suspects continued to grow. Even though most of them could be eliminated fairly easy, it was still a time-consuming process that could take time away from focusing on the most likely suspects. McCall had said that he was devoting substantial manpower hours to discovering the identity of this dirtbag.
 

Another thing to admire about McCall. Rescuing kidnapped victims might be LCR’s main focus, but when their help was needed elsewhere, he held nothing back.

“Listen, Brennan,” Kacie was saying, “I know everyone needs to be checked out, but I thoroughly vetted these people. Even the temporary employees have to go through a stringent background check. I don’t do that just for me—I do it for the charity. There are too many people willing to exploit others for their own gain. I make sure my employees always have our clients’ best interests in mind.”

“Your background check is extensive—I’ve seen it, and it’ll be helpful in ruling everyone out. However, you have certain parameters…lines you can’t cross.”

She frowned up at him, and despite his best intentions, Brennan couldn’t resist using his fingers to smooth the cute little line that appeared at the bridge of her nose. Damn. Had he ever touched skin this soft and silky?

“Brennan?”

The frown deepened, but her eyes glinted with the same heat he’d seen the other day when they’d kissed. It was all he could do not to bend down and take those luscious lips with his own.

Mind on your job, Sinclair.

Dropping his hand, he turned from temptation, facing the elevator door again. “You’re looking for a good, dependable employee, so your focus is on that. I’m looking for someone with criminal intent. Our perspectives differ.”

He didn’t add that he had ways of digging deeper than most people knew was possible. And based on what McCall had said, they could dig deeper still. Because of their combined resources, Brennan felt sure that they’d find this asshole soon. Problem was, would it be soon enough?

The doors slid open, and Kacie stepped out, Brennan close behind her. It had been a long time since she’d had anyone get this close to her, either physically or emotionally. But with Brennan, it had happened extraordinarily easy. Odd, since he wasn’t exactly an easy man. Those dark, brooding eyes saw through even her most practiced façade.