Perfect Scoundrels (Heist Society #3)(69)

“Mama,” Gabrielle said, and the pair spoke in rapid French.

Finally, the woman pulled away from Gabrielle and looked Hale up and down, examining him before scolding her daughter. “Oh, Gabrielle, why did you let Kat call dibs on this one?”

“She saw him first,” Gabrielle said with a smile.

“You…” Hale muttered. “You bought the prototype?”

“Well, technically, she conned your prototype. If Garrett hadn’t been detained, he would have found that the money that was supposed to be in his account wasn’t exactly…there,” Gabrielle told him. “Funny thing about wireless networks. They can be incredibly insecure.”

“Plus, Simon is on our side,” Kat said.

“Yes,” Irina said. “He is. Now, I believe you’ve been looking for this.” Gabrielle’s mom handed Hale a case and slid on her dark glasses. “And now it’s yours. If you want it.”

“So”—Kat eyed him—“do you want it?”





The board of directors of Hale Industries usually only met on the first of every month, but that day—like so many days of late—was an exception. The owner was still a minor, and the minor’s trustee was sitting in a German prison, awaiting extradition to the United States, so no one was surprised when the board was summoned and the new owner and his family descended on the building that bore their name.

What no one was expecting was the sight of a short teenage girl walking into the room where the Hale family was waiting, as easily as if she owned the place.

“Hello, Kat.” Hale’s mother smiled coolly. “It’s nice of you to come, but I’m afraid Scooter is busy. We’re about to go in and see the board—sort out this trustee business. I’m afraid he doesn’t have time for you.”

And there it was, the scowl that Hale’s mother had first given at the wake, before her son had the shares and the money and the power. Before Senior and his wife had needed Scooter on their side.

“Oh.” Kat’s eyes were wide. “So you’re going to be the new trustees, then?”

“Well, of course we are. We’re his parents.”

“Actually, Mom…” Hale said and pointed to the door, where Marianne stood, a confused look on her face.

“Marianne,” Senior said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Grandma was,” Hale said, but his eyes never left the woman’s.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Senior asked.

“Well, see,” Kat told them, “Hazel always meant to give your son the company. Garrett didn’t have to change that.”

“Then what did he change?” Hale’s mother snapped.

“The trustee,” Kat said simply.

Hale walked to his grandmother’s best friend and took her hands. “Will you do it?” he asked. “The position comes with a pretty significant annual salary, profit sharing, bonuses, and other perks until I turn twenty-five.”

Marianne’s eyes were wide. “I…I don’t understand.”

Kat shook her head. “Hazel didn’t give you a part of the company, Marianne. She gave you him.” Kat pointed to the boy beside her. “Or temporary control over his shares, at least.”

“No one will blame you if you say no,” Hale said, blushing. “I’m not exactly returnable.”

“I…” Marianne looked dumbfounded. “I can’t do this.”

“Hazel did it,” Hale said. “And you were right by her side every step of the way. If anyone can run this place the way she did, it’s you.” He turned back to the door and said, “And you don’t have to do it alone.”

He turned the knob to reveal Silas, bow tie and all.

“Sorry I’m late.” Silas gave the little laugh that Kat had grown to love so much. “I’ve been busy in my new lab.” He chuckled and held up a small case. “I took the liberty of making a few upgrades to the original Genesis design.” He pulled out a new prototype and gave Kat a wink. “I had a most capable assistant.”

He handed the device to Hale, then smiled at Marianne, who walked to the leather chair where Hale’s grandmother had sat. She ran her hands over the seat back, as if guessing whether or not she might fit.

“You can work as little or as much as you’d like,” Hale told her. “But the job is yours. As far as I’m concerned, it was always yours.”

“Oh my.” Marianne gave Marcus a glance. “Brother?”

“Your mistress has asked something of you, Marianne.” He stood up straighter, as if to say it was a matter of pride. “I do not think it is our place to question it.”

Marianne nodded slowly.

But Senior was shaking his head. “No. Just no. We’ve already dealt with one outsider in that position, and look at what that got us. He’s my son and he’s a minor, and I will be the trustee of my family’s company.”

“Actually, Mr. Hale,” Silas interjected, “a funny thing happened when we were digging around on the servers. We actually found a copy of your mother’s will.”

“You did?” Senior asked.

Silas reached into his case again and pulled out a document. “Yes, sir. And Marianne was the original trustee. See?” He pointed to one of the pages. “Those were your mother’s wishes.”