High Stakes Seduction - Book 5 (7 page)

I unlocked my office and stepped inside. It was all so new to me, and I still got a thrill every time I looked around the tiny space. There wasn't much there, a desk and chair, a phone, a computer. And my own wastebasket. I didn't even have a window. But I did have space for a painting on the wall over my desk; maybe I could snatch one of Maria's. I smiled. That would definitely make it feel more like my own place.

I flipped on the computer, and sat down to compose an email. But I kept thinking about Walker. Now that I knew he was in the same building, I was curious to find out more about him.

Well, I supposed I could spare a few minutes from my 'busy schedule' to go check on his office.
Snicker
.

I carefully locked my door, and got back into the elevator. All the way to the eighteenth floor, I kept trying to talk myself out of my nosiness. After all, I had been told to keep out. By both Ryan AND Antonio.

The elevator dinged and the doors open. I stepped out and looked around, feeling a bit awkward and more than a little conspicuous, No one was in the hallway, so I went straight for the office.

"Walker and Sons" was painted across the door in ornate gold letters. "Taking care of your loved ones for over 100 years" was written below that. I took a deep breath, and placed my hand on the doorknob, not knowing what to expect on the other side.

I opened the door hesitantly, slipping my head around the edge to see what the office looked like. I straightened up with relief when I saw the secretary sitting behind her desk.

"Hello," she said brightly, not the typical somberly polite voice I’d always associated with funeral home employees. "How may I help you?"

"Oh, um, I came to see about arrangements."

"I'm so sorry for your loss, my dear," said the secretary, looking concerned.

"Oh, it's not like that. We're just getting ready." Why did I feel so tongue-tied? "I mean, it's my dad, he's not doing well, so I'm just trying to do what I can ahead of time."

"Very smart, my dear. Most people wait until the last moment. By then they're in no position to make smart choices."

I looked around the office; it was quiet, and sedate. I wasn't sure what I had expected to find, but everything here looked just as I would've imagined.

"So, does Mr. Walker handle everything himself?"

"Well, mostly. But we have several ancillary services that are run by other people. We like to think of ourselves as one big happy family. Our family, being here for yours, in your time of need," she said brightly, a line she seemed very familiar with. "Did you have anything specific in mind?"

"No, not yet. I'm just checking things out. Do you have some brochures?"

"Here you go," said the secretary, handing me a couple of glossy flyers. "Take a look through these, and then feel free to get back in touch with me. Anytime. I'll be happy to answer any question you may have. You can just stop by again, if you want, or give us a call. And if you'd like to make an appointment with Mr. Walker, himself, I'll be happy to help you with that."

"Do most people come here for their consultation?"

"Sometimes. But generally, no. Most people see the staff at the funeral home. Sometimes we get special requests, but generally Mr. Walker lets his staff handle things."

"Okay," I said, looking down at the flyers in my hand. "I'll just take these along so my sister and I can look through them. Thank you so much, I appreciate your help."

"That's why we're here, my dear. I'm glad you're being proactive. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

Chapter Nineteen

ANGELA

Maria and I were having fun going through the store looking for an outfit. We hadn't done this in years, not since we were teenagers and getting ready for prom.

She surprised me the evening before, saying that Thompson had invited her out on the town this weekend. They were going somewhere fancy and she wanted it to be special. She asked me to help her find a new dress and, of course, I insisted on treating her at our shop.

Now it had come down to two dresses—one black and shimmery, and one a deep golden brown that I personally thought brought out the glimmer in her hair, and the topaz in her eyes.

"My goodness, this
must
be special," I said to Maria. "Thompson doesn't get many weekend evenings off, does he?"

"Nope. This is definitely a special occasion. That's why I wanted a new dress."

"Did he give you any hints?" I asked, helping lift the brown dress over her head, and hanging it on the wall next to the black one. Maria might be my older sister, but I could still look out for her—especially when it came to men.

"It's a secret! And you know how Thompson hates to keep secrets."

"Well now, you must have some kind of idea what it might be."

"Oh, I have an idea. But I'm not saying either. Don't want to jinx anything!"

I enjoyed the twinkle in my sister's eye. It was obvious Thompson was good medicine for her. "Well, which one do you like best?"

"I like the black one, but it almost feels like it's
too
stiff and formal. I want to look nice, but I also want to feel like myself."

"Well, I think the brown one is better with your hair and eyes, anyway. It would be my first choice."

"Okay! Sold."

"Maria!" said Nevia, poking her head into the dressing area. "I understand you’re here for the special treatment."

"Special treatment? No, we're just here to buy a dress."

"You are wrong, my dear. You're to have the full treatment. Angela's orders."

Maria looked at me, the question in her eyes. "And just what is the full treatment?"

"Our friend Nevia is an expert at undergarments. She'll be helping you pick out the perfect lingerie for this dress."

"Oh Angela! Who cares what kind of underwear I'm wearing? No one's going to see it, especially not Thompson."

"Well, that's clearly none of my business." I chuckled. "But if there's one thing Nevia's taught me, when a woman's undergarments are beautiful, the woman radiates more confidence and beauty—even if she's the only person who knows the secret. And besides, you can't turn it down, it's my gift to you."

Chapter Twenty

ANGELA

That evening, I pulled out the material Walker's secretary had given me. Looking through the slick flyers, I was impressed with how professionally everything was presented.

The brochures showed a family business for over 100 years. Photos of the original founder and his wife graced the inside, along with some beautiful shots of pastoral locations. On the back was a photo of Mr. Wendell Walker himself, along with a sappy blurb saying he'd been personally involved with the business for over thirty-five years. Some snarky part of me wondered just what kind of personal involvement he'd had. The less snarky part of me shuddered.

On the inside back was a list of resources.

As I looked down the list, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to notice that, in addition to the two funeral parlors, Walker and Sons also offered estate planning, floral services, limousine and transportation services, funeral escort services, and even cremation. I wondered how many of these service businesses were directly related to Walker, and how many belonged to his buddies. Certainly, he had his fingers in lots of pies. I just didn't know how deep those fingers were embedded.

I thought about the funerals of my own folks, how much I'd been involved in my mom's, how difficult it had been with Maria still in the hospital and Dad in denial. If it hadn't been for the kind folks at the funeral home, I might not have been able to make any choices at all. Maybe I was lucky, but the secretary was right—if you were hit unexpectedly with the death of a loved one, it would be easy to make some really foolish choices. There were lots of services vying for your money and preying on your grief.

Dad's passing was a lot different. He'd wanted cremation, and as much as he'd buried his head in the sand during and after Mom's services, he'd been smart enough to prepare everything ahead of time for himself. It was almost a non-event.

Going through these materials made me think about the difference between the two funerals and services, and how everyone has to face this eventually. Even me. Maybe I should start putting my own affairs in order so that if something happened to me while Maria was still around, at least she wouldn't have to carry the entire burden.

I hated to think about it, but we'd already been through it twice now. I knew how quickly it could happen, how suddenly everything could change. Just one more thing for me to put on my list to take care of.

I gathered all the materials and put them into an envelope with a note from me, then addressed it to Ryan Burton at the DAs office. There probably wasn't much in here that he didn't already know, but it might still be useful, and maybe suggest some other areas or businesses for him to investigate. Truthfully, after everything that had happened the past couple of years, it was the last thing I wanted laying around my house.

Chapter Twenty-One

ANTONIO

"I really think you'll be pleased with these designs from the twins." Angela held out a folder that contained several printouts.

These were the first full-color images of the new line from Carlo and Paula. I was glad she was happy with them, and relieved that things seemed to be working out so well.

"Excellent," I said, taking them from her, and laying them out on my desk. "How are the twins doing now? Are they adapting to your guidance, and taking your direction?"

She laughed. After our recent conversation, I'd been slightly concerned about whether they would be able to meet their commitment. I had called their manager, but he didn't seem interested in cooperating. I wouldn't be surprised to hear they had fired him.

"Well, they certainly seem more relaxed. But I'm sure it helps that you have your contacts in Europe. At least that way, we can keep an eye on the production. But as far as how things are going between us, everything is fine and on schedule."

I smiled, glad I had trusted my judgment in giving this assignment to Angela. She was proving capable, just as Priscilla said she would.

"I like the idea of setting this one against a backdrop of the mountains." I handed it back to her. "The waterfall shot you took on the volcano island would be perfect. Please send them a copy of that photo and have them suggest something they think will work as well."

"They seemed very receptive to our ideas for locations. And they have friends who are quite active travelers, so they should be able to suggest a place or two. I'll ask them to send photos of the areas they're considering. Between us, I'm sure we'll find the perfect spot."

She gathered the photos up again, stuffing them into the folder and turned to leave.

"Angela, for this weekend's event, I’d like you to wear the dress I bought you for the captain's dinner. The one we bought onboard ship." I saw her frown and then chew her bottom lip.

"Okay."

"Is there something wrong?" I watched some small struggle cross her face. Then she looked up at me, a challenge in her eyes.

"If you’re requesting that I wear that dress, then I'll wear that dress."

"But?"

"I won't promise you that I will enjoy the evening."

I pressed my lips together hard, forcing myself not to laugh as I'd been inclined to do. It was obvious she was willing to follow my wishes, but she was doing it out of duty, not anything else.

"That's fine with me. I won't try to force you to have a good time. But if you would relax and let go of certain preconceived ideas, you might just be surprised to discover that even
you
could enjoy the event."

She gave me a scathingly skeptical look as she left the office.

I leaned my head outside the door, catching her attention before she got to the elevator. "By the way, I've given Thompson the night off, so I'll pick you up by taxi at seven o'clock."

Chapter Twenty-Two

MARIA

Stay calm. Stay relaxed. Everything will be okay
.

Tonight was going to be one of the biggest nights of my life and I felt certain my heart was going to pound out of my chest. There were a thousand ‘what ifs’ dancing through my head, the majority of them leading to total failure and worse… laughter.

Damn. My normally positive outlook had deserted me, and I found myself clenching the arm of my wheelchair and cursing under my breath. Me! Cursing. Like a sailor. Some of the words coming out of my mouth made me blush.

Stay calm. Stay relaxed
.

Thank goodness Angela had been here to help me, I'm not sure I could've done everything on my own. I mean, I'm used to taking care of myself, but honestly, I haven't gone out on a date for a couple of years. Not that this was a
date
, but it was as good as. And besides, Thompson would be picking me up soon. Sweet, quiet, thoughtful, silently-sexy Thompson. What would I do without him?