Close To Danger (Westen #4)(31)
“Intimidation?” That seriously protective sound was back in his voice.
“Not physically. They have a very prestigious firm handling their contract negotiation. They assumed if they dragged in the female junior partner of our smaller firm to sit across from ten of their people, I’d buckle, and capitulate into accepting their client’s offer without a fight.”
“Didn’t work, did it?”
She grinned at him. “Damn straight it didn’t. Mr. Dawes built that company up from scratch. He’s ready to retire and wants to spend time traveling around the country with his wife in an RV. I want them to enjoy their golden years. After yesterday’s manipulative display of Hinkley Global’s arrogance, I intend to see that my reasonable settlement for my client becomes a little more expensive to the conglomerate people just because they’re trying to low-ball him.”
“Do you think this corporation could have someone acting like a stalker to throw you off your game?”
“Like a form of strong arm tactics?” She pondered his suggestion a moment, then shook her head. “I suppose they could, but…”
“But?” He paused, fixing that steely-eyed blue gaze of his on her once more. The one that said, trust me with the truth.
She huffed out some air. “But this feels too personal for that.”
He nodded, going back to his keyboard. “I agree. My gut tells me the same thing. I learned years ago to trust what it tells me. Just in case we’re wrong, though, we’ll put them on the list and do some background checking just to be sure they’ve not pulled this in other negotiations. I also learned that no small nugget of intel should be overlooked.”
Chloe watched him focus on the screen in front of him. She suspected he’d learned that last lesson on the operation he said had gone south. Whatever happened, it must’ve been bad. Bad enough to drive him away from a career she was beginning to suspect he’d been very good at.
“Anything else happen that’s been different? Anything that would make Napier think he could try coercing you again?” He asked, startling her out of her thoughts.
She considered her recent interactions with her boss. “Last Friday he suddenly brought this Richardson Merger case to me. He insisted that he needed me to double check all the figures with Justin, the other junior partner you met today. It was last minute and he swore I was the only one he trusted to do the work accurately.”
“Did he approach you yesterday about it? Try to move up the deadline?”
“Only to ask me to be sure to have the figures to him no later than Wednesday morning.” She gave a half shrug. “Guess he won’t be getting them anytime soon.”
“So, what else happened yesterday?”
“Well, not yesterday, but the night before.” She hesitated, not really wanting to talk about her pathetic panic in the parking garage.
“What happened?” he asked, giving her a little nudge.
“I left the office late. I’d been working on the numbers for the Richardson Merger most of the day and wanted to be sure I spent some time on the Dawes Merger before heading home since I was meeting with them first thing in the morning.” She paused and stared into the fire, the flames dancing around the wood. Wes laid a hand over one of hers, squeezing gently. “When I was in the parking garage, I had this creepy feeling someone was behind me. I’d look around and not see anyone. The feeling didn’t go away and I practically ran to my car. I didn’t relax until I was inside with the doors locked.”
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing. I drove home, double checking that no one was following me.” Here she hesitated.
“Don’t hold anything out on me, counselor. Even the smallest detail could be important. Even a text,” he said. Something in his voice and the slight tensing of the muscle in his jaw set her internal suspicion alarm off.
“How did you know I got a text?” she asked, then hopped off her barstool, moving backwards. “Oh, my God. You did something super-spy-ish to my phone, didn’t you?”
He didn’t move a muscle, simply sat watching her. “I cloned it.”
“You what?” She stared at him half in anger and half in disbelief.
“I cloned your phone.”
Her gaze pierced him with accusation. “Exactly what does that mean?”
He leaned back in his seat, one elbow lying casually by his computer on the counter. “When you spent the night here, I connected my phone to yours so I could see if you were in any danger.”
“You connected your phone to mine?” She paced in front of the fire, letting the information sink in, stopped and stared at him open-mouthed for a moment. “How could you do that?”
“I have an app…” He let the sentence drift off as if he was telling her what he’d done was no big deal.
“Don’t give me that,” she said, stalking back to stop a foot in front of him, pointing her finger into his chest. “You invaded my privacy. Hell, you invaded my client’s privacy!”
“I only focused on threatening calls or texts,” he said, as if that made what he did right.
“You expect me to believe that? How would you know the difference without listening to the calls or reading the texts?” She paced the space in front of the fireplace from the kitchen island to the far side of the cabin and back. “My God. Every one of my clients are going to have to be told. This is a nightmare!”