Kisses to Remember (4 page)

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Authors: Christine DePetrillo

BOOK: Kisses to Remember
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Holden concentrated on the runway and the tasks he had to complete to guarantee a safe landing, but he couldn’t
not
listen to the voices coming from the cabin.

These models will pass every inspection.

Easily. They look like all the other models in the series. No one will ever know.

Vaughn poked Holden in the side with his elbow and raised his eyebrows. Holden shrugged and pointed out the front windows as if to say,
Hey, landing a plan here. You want to help me or what?

Vaughn focused on co-piloting duties for a few moments, but the voices continued.

It’s genius when you think about it.

Cue some boisterous laughter that sounded a tad maniacal to Holden. They listened for a moment more, but the cabin had fallen silent due no doubt to the fast approaching ground. Vaughn reached over and shut off the channel. The two pilots sat in pensive silence as the plane’s wheels touched down on the runway. They taxied to DE’s private gate and prepared the plane for unloading.

No one will ever know.
What did that mean? No one will ever know what? Holden rubbed his eyes as he unlatched his seatbelt and strode into the main cabin. The execs waited with their bags. There were four of them total. Two executives, a man and a woman, were very Californian with their golden tans, bleached blond hair, and lifeguard builds evident even in business suits.

The remaining two men, however, were hulking creatures, their hands almost too big to fit around the handles of their briefcases. They both gave Holden stiff, curt nods as they disembarked, and he wondered if they spoke English. 

After the last exec had passed into the terminal, Vaughn said, “What the hell were they talking about?”

Holden shrugged. “Not our concern, buddy. We just fly this bird.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Out on the racetrack. This here,” Holden gestured to the plane’s cabin, “is to fund my car overhauls, feed me, and provide a roof over my head.”

“I don’t believe that. You love flying this thing.” Vaughn peeled open a garbage bag and collected rubbish left by their passengers. In three hours, they’d managed to leave an abundance of empty water bottles and greasy napkins from the pizza they’d brought aboard. 

Holden wiped down the seats and made sure all the electronics were powered down. “I do love flying this plane, but I don’t give a shit about what happens at Donovan Electronics.”

Corporate stuff didn’t interest Holden in the least. He’d read enough articles online about folks going to an early grave due to the stress of seventy-hour work weeks.  Holden hoped his more casual take on life would allow him many years on this planet.

“I don’t give a shit what happens at Donovan Electronics either. I only give a shit about how I’m going to get Sabrina to scream my name in a fit of wild passion.” Vaughn tied a knot in the garbage bag and headed for the cockpit.

Holden chewed on his bottom lip. He could probably get Sabrina to scream his name in a fit of wild passion, but the thought raised an army of goosebumps on his arms. Did not want to go there. No way. She was so not his type. He actually didn’t have a type. Figured he know his soulmate when he met her. He was a patient guy.

Most of the time. Some nights did seem longer than others when you didn’t share your bed with anyone.

As Holden finished up in the cabin, Vaughn reemerged from the cockpit. He stopped short at the first seat and bent down. “What’s this?”

When he stood, he held a single sheet of white paper in his hands. His eyes scanned the paper and the ever-present grin on Vaughn’s face slid off his lips. 

 “No one will ever know.” His face had gone pale, his eyes opened extra wide.

Holden joined his buddy and plucked the paper from Vaughn’s tight grip nearly tearing the sheet. “It’s an invoice.” He read the contents and had to sit down.

“I’m not a specialist or anything,” Vaughn began, “but aren’t some of those supplies explosive?”

Holden stared at the words until the letters spiraled like black ants parading across snow. He blinked several times, but the invoice didn’t disappear as he’d hoped it would. He held a terrorist’s shopping list in his hands.

Vaughn took the paper back. “We have to tell Sabrina.”

“Tell her what?”

“That these execs are involved in something dangerous.” Vaughn had that hero glint in his eyes as if he’d finally found
the
single thing that would make Sabrina his.

Holden let out a slow breath. “Wait. Let’s think about this.” He needed some time to process what they’d seen and how that information should be handled. “What if the execs are toying with us?” Holden wasn’t keen on the idea of being set up to look like an idiot, but it was a definite possibility.

“What if they aren’t? What if they’re genuinely involved in manufacturing weapons that use Donovan Electronics products? Are you willing to take the risk they’re funning with us? Are you willing to let DE televisions go into people’s homes only to fry them when some nutjob gives the signal? Some little kid in his feetie pajamas goes to watch his cartoons with a bowl of Frosted Flakes and blows up. You want that on your conscience?”

“Dammit. I hate when you have a valid point.” Holden led Vaughn off the plane. They didn’t speak again until they were at Vaughn’s truck in the parking garage.

“Look, Sabrina needs to know if her TVs are being programmed for destruction, if her company is being used to transport weapons. I say we tell her, discreetly, let her investigate, and if it’s not true, no big deal. No harm done. If it is true, however, we save the day. We’ll emerge as heroes, and I’ll have feral monkey sex with Sabrina because she’ll be so grateful for my service. God, I’d kill to be with her.”

Holden couldn’t believe Vaughn was turning this into a move on his twisted chessboard of lust. “Fine, but I think we should feel her out first.”

“Feel her up? Agreed.” Vaughn wiggled his fingers.

“No, you jackass.” Holden opened the passenger side door and climbed into the truck as Vaughn slid behind the wheel. “Feel her
out
, as in see if she knows something already.”

“You think she’s involved?” Vaughn stopped with his key just shy of the ignition.

“She could be. How would we know? We’re just a couple of pilots who do her bidding.”

Sabrina didn’t strike Holden as a woman who gave you the complete picture. He was sure she had hidden layers. Layers she had offered to show him on numerous occasions. Layers he had no interest in seeing.

Twenty minutes later, Holden and Vaughn were riding the elevator up to Sabrina’s office on the top floor of the DE Corporate Headquarters building. Made entirely of windows, the top floor gave the illusion of being out in the middle of the sky. The neighboring buildings were much smaller than DE’s, so you could visit the offices on the perimeter and see nothing but blue skies and white clouds during the day, starry blackness and amazing moon shots at night. The only thing that impeded the natural feel was the beep, click, and hum of all DE’s products on full power in every office at every hour.

The elevator doors slid open, and the electronic racket immediately got on Holden’s nerves. This was one of the reasons he avoided having to actually come to headquarters. The building didn’t agree with him. Usually he and Vaughn got calls on their cell phones when they were needed or appointments were set up via email or text message. He rarely had to physically report in, going directly instead to the corporate plane tucked in the hangar of Dallas Fort Worth International Airport. Most of the time he got to hang out at his quiet home, which he’d built himself, and work on his cars until a call came in to fly. Yes, planes had their own industrial clamor, as his racecars did, but somehow Holden could tolerate those noises.

“How do we even know Sabrina is still here?” Holden glanced at his wristwatch. The little blue screen read 9:17 p.m. Their flight to San Diego and back had taken roughly six hours total, and Holden was ready to grab something to eat, shower, then climb into bed, and forget the entire trip. The little voice in his head was telling him not to bother Sabrina with this news. This absurd, potentially false news.

And why is it always so hard to breathe in this damn building?

“She’s here.” Not a shred of doubt laced Vaughn’s response.

Sure enough, when they reached Sabrina’s office, a thin bead of light shone under the door. Vaughn tossed a look over his shoulder that said,
Told ya.
He raised his hand, made a fist, and prepared to knock.

“Wait!” Suddenly, that granola bar Holden had for dinner crept back up on him, and he grabbed Vaughn’s wrist. “Are you sure about this?”

“Hold, we’ve been over this. She needs to know.”

Before Holden could stop him, Vaughn freed his hand and rapped his knuckles on Sabrina’s door.

“This better be important.” Her muffled voice was hard to read. Was she exhausted after a long day’s work? Would this intrusion get them into trouble? Did she need time to hide her pitchfork?

Vaughn opened the door and strode into Sabrina’s office. She glanced up, a bored expression flitting across her face until her gaze settled on Holden. Once she saw him, she snapped her laptop shut and offered up a huge smile, a hungry lioness smile. Her white-blond hair was pulled back into its usual tight, complicated twist, a section of straightened bangs covering her forehead. Heavily made up gray-blue eyes blinked slowly as Holden tried to blend into the wall.

Definitely should have worn camouflage today.
Instead, Holden sported black dress pants and a white DE polo shirt. It was as dressed up as he ever got. He’d gotten used to wearing old T-shirts and jeans when working on racecars, and the style suited him.

“I spoke to the San Diego executives. They said they enjoyed their flight, so once again, I thank you both.” Only she didn’t look at them both. Her gaze drilled into only one of them. Holden slid his hands into his pants’ pockets, feeling the need to semi-protect his equipment.

“Sit.” She gestured to the two chairs in front of her desk, her eyes focusing on Holden as if he were the last glass of lemonade on a scorching summer day. She actually licked her thin lips, and he was almost positive her tongue was forked.

Flee, flee!
Holden’s body was a magnet turned on an opposite pole to Sabrina. Only the walls of her office kept him from repelling.

“What brings you boys in here at this hour?” Sabrina stretched out her legs under her desk, and Vaughn’s gaze dropped down.

Holden stared at Vaughn until his friend shook his head and cleared his throat. No way Holden was going to initiate this conversation.

“Ummm…” Vaughn glanced down at Sabrina’s legs once more, then fidgeted in his seat. He looked at Holden who opened his eyes real wide and angled his head toward the door. Vaughn shook his head and focused back on Sabrina. “The execs we flew in…have you done business with them long?”

Easing into it?
Okay. How long was this going to take? Holden was so fricking hungry. He rested his hands on his stomach as if to apologize to it for the lack of sustenance.

“San Diego supplies us with important parts for our televisions. I’ve known most of those executives for years. Why?” Sabrina piled up some papers on her desk and toyed with the edges until the stack was perfectly aligned.

Abort! Abort!
Holden’s mind screamed. He never believed in intuition or sixth sense or any of that psychic stuff, but right now he certainly had a…a feeling.

“Well, we saw something this evening.” Vaughn shifted in his chair. “Something that concerned us, and we thought we should discuss it with you.”

Us? We?
Holden was not in favor of being concerned or discussing anything, especially with Sabrina. Despite what Vaughn was saying, she still eyed Holden as if she were picturing him naked and possibly covered in melted chocolate.

“You know you can always come to me with any issues.” Sabrina smiled. “Well, out with it. What did you see?”

Vaughn relayed the details of the overheard conversation and handed Sabrina the invoice while Holden held his breath and made mental notes to update his resume.

Chapter Three

 

Sabrina leaned back in her expensive leather chair and gripped the edge of her desk. The lines around her mouth, the ones caused by all the cutthroat snarls she sent competitors, deepened as she stared at Vaughn.

At least she’s not staring at me for once.
Yet, Holden was still uncomfortable just being in the same room with her.

“Well,” she said. “Well.” Sabrina stood and paced behind her desk. “Is this the only copy?” She stopped and focused on Vaughn again as she waved the invoice.

“It’s the only one we found,” Vaughn said.

Sabrina nodded. “I’ll need to keep this.” She hovered over her desk giving them both a clear view down her low-cut, V-neck dress.

Holden looked away, afraid gazing upon her breasts would turn him to stone, Medusa-style. Vaughn, however, zeroed in and drummed his fingers on his thighs.

Sabrina picked up her cell phone and touched the screen. “Aaron?” Her personal assistant also known as The Slave. “I need you to schedule a meeting with the San Fran execs for first thing tomorrow morning. Meeting with them in the afternoon as planned will be too late. Thanks.” She hung up before Aaron could possibly refuse. Not that he would.

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