Sex on Flamingo Beach (20 page)

“I was on-site at the mall. Rowan left for New York midafternoon.”

“He went alone?” This came from Joya again.

“Hell, I don't keep track of his comings and goings. Why the third degree? What do you really want to know?”

“What we want to know is if Maggie Smith was with him.”

“Who's she?”

“Don't give me that,” his wife said. “You know very well she's WARP's latest hire. Rowan's taken her out a few times.”

“You need to mind your own business.”

“Not if he's playing my friend.”

Emilie rose and began collecting their dishes. It was time she headed home and licked her wounds in private.

Joya's loud intake of breath got her attention. “Turn the volume on the television up,” she called.

Emilie, who was closest, fumbled with the knob. “Oh my God,” she said, “is that Mayor Rabinowitz being arrested?”

“Judging by the ugly suit and the fringe of hair circling his head, I'd say it is.”

Not wanting to miss a word, Emilie turned up the volume even more.

A serious-faced reporter stood in front of City Hall.

“Earlier today Mayor Rabinowitz was caught accepting a bribe from an undercover FBI officer. It's alleged that the mayor has been accepting large sums of money in exchange for favorable recommendations to the Land Use Control Board. An anonymous caller tipped off the FBI. The mayor faces charges of…”

“I can't say I'm surprised,” Joya said, helping Emilie clear the table. She had a horrified expression on her face when she turned to her husband. “What does this mean for James Morse?”

The lines around Derek's mouth deepened. “I'm sure we'll be investigated. Any company associated with the casino is going to come under scrutiny. I'd better see if I can reach Rowan.” Taking his cell phone with him he went off to the outside deck.

“Coffee? Dessert?” Joya offered because it was the polite thing to do. Emilie could tell her friend was concerned for her husband and they needed to be alone.

“It's very sweet of you, but no. Dinner was great and I am full. Bring me some of that peach cobbler tomorrow.” The phone began ringing as she let herself out. “Don't pick up,” Emilie admonished over her shoulder. “It's probably reporters.”

R
owan was feeling rather good about his earlier conversation with the attorneys at Fairchild and Billings when his cell phone played its musical jingle. He was in a taxi heading for a dinner appointment on the Upper East Side. Glancing at the dial, he recognized Derek's number, and quickly picked up.

“Hey, guy, what's happening?”

“Plenty.”

Derek sounded as if he was being strangled.

“Problems?”

“Big ones. Mayor Rabinowitz was just arrested.”

Rowan couldn't stop the expletive from spewing out. “You are kidding me, right?”

“No. I'm not kidding you. The old buzzard got caught taking a bribe from an undercover FBI agent.” Derek went on to explain what he knew.

Rowan felt the tension creep into his shoulder blades. “This can only mean headaches for us,” he said. “When the Seminoles and Landsdale struck their deal, it was the mayor who put me in touch with Lightfoot.”

“I get you. It's going to be presumed that we paid off the mayor to get the job.”

“Something like that. Listen, I'm on my way to a dinner appointment. I'll get in touch with the attorneys with this update. Then I'm on a red-eye so that I can be in the office early tomorrow. The worst-case scenario is that I'll have to catch the first flight out.”

“Uh, off topic now, and frankly none of my business, your appointment wouldn't be with Maggie Smith?”

“What the hell does Maggie have to do with any of this?”

Derek told Rowan about his wife's grilling and the conversation that had ensued. “Emilie seemed really bent out of shape by the whole thing,” he explained. “Plus some busybody's been sending her hate mail.”

Rowan whistled. “You know this kind of thing is another reason I want to leave Flamingo Beach.”

Derek groaned loudly. “Unfortunately, as long as my nana's alive I can't even consider moving. See you mañana.”

The minute Derek disconnected, Rowan called the after-hours number his attorneys had given him. Mayor Rabinowitz's arrest would definitely mean that he and his company would come under close scrutiny. After an extended conversation, one of the attorneys committed to being on a flight to Flamingo Beach with him.

Very late that night, Emilie was at home seated in front of her computer updating her résumé. She'd pretty much made up her mind to start looking for positions in bigger cities. As much as she'd hoped to settle in Flamingo Beach, maybe it was time to move on and find an urban city where she would blend in. Besides the uncertainty of not knowing whether she had a job or not, she couldn't bear the thought of having to watch Rowan and Maggie embark on an affair.

Not being in the mood to speak to anyone, she'd put off returning phone calls, one being from Mack Allen.

When Emilie's phone rang she groaned. It was pushing eleven and she was praying that it wasn't him. Nice as he was, she'd made up her mind that trying to force feelings that weren't there was a waste of time.

“Hey, girl,” Chere, on the other end, greeted. “Such drama in Flamingo Beach. Arresting that old crook was a long time coming.”

“We're talking about Mayor Rabinowitz I presume?”

“Honey, I cracked up watching him being led away in handcuffs. Anyway, the reason I'm calling is to let you know you don't have to move.”

“How come?”

“The buyer's financing fell through.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

What Emilie actually felt was an overwhelming relief. Not that she was about to unpack her boxes anytime soon, but at least it bought her time to think.

“Quen would really prefer to sell the place to you anyway,” Chere added. “I could help you find creative financing.”

Emilie thanked Chere and told her she would think about it and then get back to her.

She hung up thinking about how crazy her life had become. And all in just a few months. Her job was in jeopardy, the condo she lived in was up for sale, and because of the job situation she wasn't sure she could afford to buy it. Some crazy woman was monitoring her actions and sending her hate mail. And the man she'd fallen in love with and started trusting was a player. What could possibly happen next?

After finishing up her résumé she shut down the computer. Tomorrow was another day.

The next morning, the minute Emilie walked into her office and saw Zoe's face she knew there was a problem.

“Tom and Owen want you upstairs in the executive office,” she said. “Better take your coffee with you.”

Leaving her briefcase behind, Emilie grabbed a notepad and raced for the elevator.

Owen and Tom were seated around a U-shaped desk when she entered. Tom pointed out a chair.

“Right there's good, Emilie.”

She sat waiting for them to initiate the conversation.

“I suppose you're wondering why you're here?” Owen asked with a smile on his face.

She nodded, waiting to find out her fate.

Tom cleared his throat. “We wanted to talk to you about an opportunity at one of Knight's other properties.”

There was hope but she wasn't about to get too excited.

“Which state are we talking about?”

“It won't be a big move, just farther south. Miami,” Tom said, all benevolence.

“What's the position?”

“Sales trainer.”

A lesser position than she currently was holding. She would not let emotions overcome her.

“Who's replacing me?” Emilie asked, another sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Landsdale is bringing in someone with more casino experience.”

“And I'm being reduced to a sales trainer?”

“It's either that, something overseas or a severance package. I'm sure you'll need time to think about what we've discussed,” Owen Schwarz said.

“I will need time to think it over.” Not trusting herself to say more, Emilie rose. “How much time do I have to get back to you?”

“Take a full week,” Owen said as if he were granting her the hugest favor of her life.

Emilie's head was pounding as she headed back to the office. One week to decide what she wanted to do. That didn't give her much time to make some life-changing decisions. She'd better start getting those résumés out. On the other hand she was up to her ears with the repositioning of the jam session, and to abandon the project midway seemed so irresponsible.

What to do? What to do? Should she concentrate all of her energies on landing a job fast or should she continue to be a professional and fulfill her obligations?

Zoe had the television on when Emilie walked back into the office. She tore her eyes away and, after taking one look at Emilie's face, lowered the volume.

“Are you okay?”

“I'll be fine in an hour or two. I just got some unsettling news.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe in a day or so. What's on the news?”

“It's just more about the mayor and speculation about who's stepping in. The city council is going to appoint someone in the interim until an election can be arranged.”

Emilie went into her office closed the door and put her head down. She allowed herself the luxury of a few tears and then pulled herself together. It definitely looked like she would be moving now. But did she want to move to Miami?

Her intercom buzzed. Emilie blew her nose and stabbed a finger at the button.

“Yes, what?”

“Maggie Smith's on the line.”

Maggie was supposed to be in New York. They weren't friends. Why was a woman she'd never met or spoken to calling her?

Morbid curiosity prompted Emilie to say, “Put her through.”

“This is Emilie Woodward,” she said into the mouthpiece.

“Emilie, Maggie Smith from WARP. We don't know each other but I've heard that you've dated Rowan James and I hoped you could answer a question.”

What a ballsy woman she was. Again curiosity kept Emilie from hanging up.

“What is it you want to know?”

“Well, this is a bit embarrassing, but I've been receiving these anonymous e-mails from some obviously disgruntled woman, warning me off white men, specifically Rowan James. I wondered if you'd had the same experience.”

Emilie was so astounded that she couldn't think of a thing to say.

“Emilie, are you there?”

“Sorry, yes I'm here. I guess I'm just surprised. I've had a similar experience and I'm still trying to figure out who's behind it.”

“Perhaps we should compare these e-mails,” Maggie suggested.

“Perhaps we should. What's your schedule like?”

“I'm currently in New York, but we could get together when I get back. Tuesday evening would be good.”

New York. Maggie was in New York. And so was Rowan. And Maggie was so rattled that she was making a long-distance call to a woman she didn't know.

Zoe was signaling to her frantically. Emilie covered the mouthpiece. “What is it?'

“Rowan James is here to see you.”

Maggie on the phone, and now Rowan in person, which meant he was no longer in New York, or he and Maggie had never been together.

“I have to go,” Emilie said. “Tuesday it is, then. Is seven o'clock at the Pink Flamingo good for you?”

“I'm penciling it in my book.”

Rowan didn't wait for her to ask him in. He was already at her doorway, filling it with his overwhelming presence. A helpless Zoe did an eye roll and shrugged her shoulders

“How are you doing?” Rowan asked, taking the seat across from her. His normally clear blue eyes were red streaked.

“Everything considered, okay. I'm surprised to see you here. I'd heard you'd left for New York,” Emilie said carefully.

“It was a last-minute trip to see my lawyers. Thankfully I got that business accomplished before all hell broke loose. Mayor Rabinowitz's arrest has all sorts of implications. The FBI's going to investigate all the companies involved with the casino deal. I felt it was in my best interest to get back here and bring my attorney with me. Derek shouldn't have to take that heat by himself.”

Could she believe him? Had he really gone to New York to see his attorneys?

“Anything new on the job situation?” he asked.

“Actually yes, I've been presented with several options. None that have much appeal to me.”

She explained about the training job, moving overseas or accepting a severance package.

“I'm divorcing myself from any involvement with building the casino,” Rowan shared. “The Seminoles and Landsdale will have to find themselves another developer.”

“Won't that mean legal implications?”

“Nothing my lawyers can't handle. It's a very different project from when I signed on. The construction of the mall is going well and Derek can handle any issues that come up. I have a couple of opportunities in Pittsburgh that I want to pursue so I'm packing it in and heading off in a month or so. I'll fly into Flamingo Beach when needed.”

The impact of what he'd just said hit her. It left her head reeling. From the very beginning he'd made no secret of wanting to leave Flamingo Beach, but now there was an actual date.

Zoe was at the door waving her hands frantically.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but you might want to see this.”

They followed her out and she pointed to the television screen where Stephen Priddy was being led away in handcuffs. Zoe quickly turned up the volume.

The reporter was rambling on about Priddy providing illegal gifts and campaign donations to Mayor Rabinowitz and others on the city council. In return he got their vote.

“Something about Stephen Priddy always set my teeth on edge,” Rowan mumbled.

“I wonder whether Keith Lightfoot was involved in any of this,” Emilie said out loud.

What she didn't voice was her concern that Rowan would be the next person to be picked up. He looked tired but didn't seem at all nervous, not the demeanor of a guilty man.

“I'd be very surprised,” he said, “Keith Lightfoot has a sterling business reputation. He might not have known what Priddy was up to.”

“How could he not?”

“From what I can gather, Priddy was recommended to the tribal council by another party. He came with excellent credentials. The group needed a seasoned chief financial officer to keep things on the up-and-up and that's why he was hired.”

The phone attached to Rowan's belt loop rang.

“Excuse me, I'll have to get this.”

He listened for several seconds, his jaw muscles working.

“Okay, let them know I'll be right over and I'm bringing my lawyer with me.” Rowan turned back to Emilie. “I have to go. The FBI is looking to speak with me.”