“No, actually, you don’t.” Jared’s gaze narrowed on the slim amount of information in the folder. “You don’t charge anyone therefore you have no paying customers. What the hell does this mean? How can there be no actual people listed as owning this corporation?”
“Because the corporation doesn’t actually exist.” Dane finally threw himself into the chair opposite Jared’s desk, shoving his hand through his dark hair to push it out of his face. “Whoever set this up was a fucking genius. I think I need to hire him.”
“So you can’t find her?”
Dane shot him a dirty look. “I didn’t say that. It’s just going to take a little time.”
“How much time?”
“Maybe a week. Maybe more to sift through everything. I’m telling you, whoever did this did not want to be found.”
Well, shit. Why the hell would an antiques dealer from some small town in Pennsylvania not want to be found? It sounded like the plot to a mystery novel.
And seriously pissed him off.
“Are you working the antiques store angle?”
Dane flipped him off with both middle fingers this time. “Stick to hotels and let the professionals handle the heavy lifting. Of course I am, but like I said, it’ll take some time to wade through.”
Jared sighed and tossed the file back on the desk. He was tempted to tell Dane to forget it. He’d tell Nana he couldn’t find her and that would be the end of it.
But the look on her face as she’d tossed him the pin. The hurt…
And last night, he’d dreamed about her, naked and writhing under him while he thrust into her. She’d begged for more, bit his skin, licked him, sucked him. And he hadn’t been able to get enough of her.
The dream had been so real he’d woken on the verge of orgasm, like a goddamn teenager.
He’d had to finish the job in the shower, thinking of Belle.
Christ, when the hell had he last dreamed about a woman? It was pathetic and he didn’t do pathetic.
But…
“Keep digging. Let me know when you find her.”
Dane’s gaze narrowed. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you so determined to find her?”
“Nana wants to talk to her about the pin.”
“That’s not all.” Dane sat forward in the chair, a smile starting to curl his lips. “There’s something else. You actually liked this woman, didn’t you?”
Jared rolled his eyes. “What are you? Twelve? This isn’t high school.”
“No, but you never acted this way in high school, either. You’re always moving on to the next woman, the next party, the next project. You don’t ever get stuck on one thing.”
“I’m not stuck on her. Christ, Dane, Nana wants to talk to her. That’s all.”
Well, maybe not all. He wanted her back in his bed.
“Just find her.”
Seven
“Damn the man, anyway. I hope he pricks himself with the pin and gets blood poisoning.”
Annabelle ran a brush through her hair, twisting the unruly mass into a tight bun on the back of her head. Monday mornings she typically slept in because the shop was closed. Today, she had business.
She stuck in a few pins to hold the mass in place, then stepped back to check her appearance.
Minimal makeup. Brown suit, cream camisole that revealed no hint of cleavage. All buttons done up tight. Stockings, no runs. Brown and cream spectator pumps.
Should’ve kept my damn buttons closed New Year’s Eve.
She looked…boring as all hell.
“No, not boring. Respectable,” she told her reflection. Who stuck out her tongue.
Had it really been only two weeks since that night? A night filled with more pleasure than she’d experienced in her whole life.
A night that had ended in humiliation.
Damn, Jared Golden. She had to stop thinking about him.
Today she needed to have her head in the game. One slip up and her carefully crafted life crumbled.
She pulled a face at herself. “Overdramatic much? Jeez.”
Still, she had to be careful. Especially with collectors.
“Talking to yourself again, Annabelle?” Kate’s voice floated into the room from downstairs. “I thought I told you to stop that. It’s making me nervous.”
Sighing, she turned from her reflection and headed down the steps to the shop. Kate waited at the bottom of the stairwell, grinning at her.
“I thought you were working today.” Annabelle gave Kate a hug, holding on a little longer than usual. “Are you here for moral support?”
Kate’s rueful smile was her answer. “Sorry, but I can’t stay long. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Annabelle tugged at the hem of her tailored suit coat. “I’m fine. Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous. I don’t want to screw this up and have her realize who I am. Jesus, why the hell did I ever think becoming a freelance appraiser for Carmen Moran was a good idea? She knew my parents. She commissioned pieces from Daddy. I don’t remember ever meeting her and I can’t imagine that she’ll connect me with them but—”
“Annabelle.” Kate reached out to squeeze her hand. “Everything will be fine. Just calm down. Your grandfather made damn sure your background would stick when he had the lawyer draw up the papers for your new identity. Carmen Moran will have no reason to look beyond that.”
Annabelle took a deep, calming breath. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She looked down at herself and tugged on her skirt. “Do you think I should have worn the blue suit? But the blue one makes me look fat. Of course this one makes me look like a spinster. But I—”
“Annabelle, please.” Kate laughed, holding her hands over her ears. “My brain’s going to bleed. Carmen Moran isn’t coming to critique your wardrobe. She’s coming because she knows you’re good at what you do.”
“I know, I know.” Groaning, Annabelle hurried through the shop and into the front room. “I just want this to go well. If she adds me to her list of appraisers, my reputation will be set.”
She cursed as she banged her left shin on an 1876 Philadelphia highboy and nearly knocked over a 1787 primitive rocker on her way to the counter in the front of the store.
“You’ll be fine.” Following behind, Kate smoothed a hand over her shoulder, brushing a spec of lint from the fabric. “Don’t lose your cool. You know your stuff. You have a double major in art history and design. You’ve been collecting art all your life and you’ve got a file folder full of recommendations from satisfied customers who you’ve done appraisals for. You’ve got the credentials.”
Taking a deep breath, Annabelle held it for a moment before letting it out. “I know you’re right. I know it. It’s just…My head’s been all messed up lately. I wish I’d never met that damn man.”
“Ah.” Kate nodded sagely. “Now I know what’s going on.”
“I can’t believe I fell for his line.” Annabelle sighed, wishing she could just forget New Year’s Eve. “I should have realized he was after something. He was just too good to be true.”
And, oh, it had been good. Every night since that party, she’d dreamed about Jared. Dreams that owed more to her imagination than memory. He hadn’t been that good.
Which is a complete crock.
She almost told herself to shut up, but then Kate would really think she was nuts.
“Just put him out of your mind for now,” Kate said. “Focus on what you need to do. After you’ve been added to Carmen Moran’s stable, I’ll fix you up with some nice, quiet friend of Arnie’s.” She paused, wrinkling her nose. “Then again, maybe that’s not such a good idea.”