Close To Danger (Westen #4)(12)
Wes glanced at his phone, lying discretely in his lap, covered by the magazine from curious eyes. He’d pulled up the law firm’s webpage, leaving it open at the list of attorneys on staff and their pictures. The man walking briskly towards the door was none other than Aaron Berger, the most senior member of the firm. According to his conversation with Chloe back in Westen, Mr. Berger was a defense attorney with some high-power clients. Which in Wes’s book meant criminals or shady politicians.
He’d seen the female senior partner, Kathleen Dennison, come in just after he arrived at the firm. A short, thin blonde whose hair color probably came out of a bottle, full of cool aloofness. She didn’t speak to the receptionist, just held out her hand for any messages while she chatted with someone on her phone. He suspected it was a constant attachment to her ear and hand. Another defense attorney, according to Chloe. Wes could see how she would be the ying to Berger’s yang in a court case. He was fire, she was ice.
So that left just Dale Napier. The other senior partner. Head of the financial division. Mergers, acquisitions, contracts, real estate. And Chloe’s immediate boss.
Time passed.
Kelly, the receptionist, offered him coffee at least twice. The door to Chloe’s office remained closed, but he could see her from his seat. Or at least see her silhouette and that of her coworker through the etched glass window extending from the floor to the ceiling next to the door.
Around five o’clock the office started thinning out. Dennison left. Several junior associates, along with most the secretarial staff. The lights in the office had been dimmed in most of the cubicles and desks. Even faithful Kelley packed up and left, after he reassured her he was quite comfortable waiting on Chloe to finish for the day.
About fifteen minutes passed then another door at the far end of the hall opened. There he was. Good old Dale. Chloe’s boss. Tall. Probably close to Wes’s own six feet two inches. In fairly good shape for a man just into his fifties, with just the right amount of gray hair at his temples. Probably thanks to the liberal use, but judicious placement of, hair dye. Married.
Confident in his place, not only in the firm’s hierarchy, but in the world at large, he seemed to just glide through the office halls. No questioning his path. No hesitation. A direct line to Chloe’s office.
Wasn’t that interesting?
From his vantage point, Wes watched Napier enter Chloe’s office without even a courtesy knock. A moment later the junior partner—Justin was what she’d called him earlier—slipped out of the office, like a mouse scurrying out of the cat’s line of vision.
Wes set the magazine on the end table next to his seat, pocketed his phone into his jeans and slowly strolled towards Chloe’s office once more.
Thanks to the etched glass wall, he could see Napier was seated on the corner of her desk, his body leaning in towards hers. Someone looking in might think it was an intimate pose. Someone who didn’t know Chloe. Wes knew it for what it was. Intimidation, pure and simple.
Justin had left the door ajar in his hasty retreat. Wes moved close enough to hear the conversation inside.
“I told you before Mr. Napier. I’m not interested in private drinks or dinner with you,” Chloe said, her voice going all tight and emphatic, without raising in volume.
“I’ve told you before, you can feel free to call me Dale when we’re alone,” the dickhead said in a voice slick and as nauseating as week-old frying oil. “You know we’ll be considering applicants to add as partners this spring, Chloe. I’d love to put your name in the ring, but I’d need a few assurances that you’d be appreciative of my efforts.”
Through the glass, Wes could seem him slide one hand up Chloe’s arm.
Wes saw red. He stepped through the open door.
“Ready to go to dinner, Chloe?” he said as calmly as he could manage, especially after seeing the pallor of her face. Napier was now his number one suspect as her stalker. And if he was wrong, the man’s intimidation tactics alone made Wes want to clock the asshole.
Napier nearly jumped off the desk and to the side.
Wrangling in his inner caveman, Wes held out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met, Wes Strong. A friend of Chloe’s sister and brother-in-law.”
“Dale Napier,” the other man shook his hand, his eyebrow lifting at Wes’s extra-firm grip.
“Ah, you would be the Napier part of Berger, Dennison and Napier and Chloe’s boss?” Wes asked moving a little closer to the man, letting his size speak volumes about his intention to protect Chloe.
The other man took a step back and towards the door, putting space between him and Chloe. “Yes. In fact, she’s one of the best assets of my team.”
“She does have many fine assets,” he said, letting the lawyer know he was aware exactly which of Chloe’s assets the man was interested in, and he was damn sure it wasn’t her brain or negotiating skills. From his periphery, he saw her spine stiffen as she pushed some buttons on her mouse and turned off her computer.
“And she is right here in the room,” Chloe said, shoving herself out of her chair and grasping her handbag. Taking a deep breath, she reached for her coat, but Wes took it off the coat stand in the corner and held it for her to put on. She cast him a slightly furious look full of daggers that only Wes could see as she slipped her arms into the sleeve then turned to give her boss a polite smile. “If you’ll excuse us Mr. Napier, Wes and I do have dinner reservations and can’t be late.”