Hot Asset (21 Wall Street #1)(69)
I take a menacing step toward him, and his eyes go wary.
“Girlfriend,” he says in a begrudging tone that tells me it wasn’t his first word choice.
“Actually,” Sabrina says, standing up from the table behind Jacob. “It’s your word against ours.”
Jacob whirls around. “Who the hell are you?”
She waves a hand. “Oh, I don’t matter. But may I introduce Dana Keller? She’s a journalist with the Wall Street Journal.”
The story-hungry reporter stands with a gleeful smile. “You know, when Sabrina said she had a scoop for me, I thought it might be just another executive with pervy tendencies. But this is so much better.”
Jacob pales and looks ready to puke. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but—”
“Oh no, it’s not what she thinks she heard,” Sabrina purrs. She picks up a small black recording device from the table. “It’s what she knows she heard.”
“That little guy’s state of the art,” Dana says proudly, pointing at the recorder. “Picks up every whisper, even in a noisy restaurant like this.”
As Jacob stares in disbelief at the device, Kennedy and Matt amble over from the other side of the restaurant. “Everything good over here, Lara? We noticed you dropped your napkin,” Matt says in mock concern.
“All good,” Lara says, waving the napkin like a white flag.
Jacob lets out a horrified laugh, turning to Lara. “You knew they were there. You had this all planned. What was the signal, drop your napkin and they call Ian?”
“Text, actually,” Kennedy clarifies. “He was waiting outside.”
“Hmm, maybe with a little less wine you might have checked your surroundings,” Sabrina says, picking up and inspecting the half-empty bottle in the ice bucket.
“You set me up,” Jacob snarls to all of us.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” I say, meeting the other man’s gaze head-on. He’s too much of a coward, though, and after a beat, he looks away.
“The only difference is, you deserved it,” Lara says quietly to Jacob.
“It wasn’t just me,” Jacob says, obviously moving past denial and straight to bargaining. “Steve is just as guilty. The guy’s up to his eyebrows in gambling debt and agreed to do just about anything for a price.”
“Oh, we know,” I say. “My attorney, Vanessa Lewis, marched into the SEC offices to notify Steve’s boss of the situation within moments of Lara dropping that napkin.”
He stares at us, aghast. “Just how many people were involved in this setup?”
“Just my lawyer and the people you see here,” I say casually, picking up Lara’s wine and starting to take a drink. “Oh, and my assistant and the SEC enforcement officers who should be here any—”
“There they are!” Matt says in a singsong tone.
We all turn to see Kate pointing two stone-faced suits in our direction.
“Wow, all sorts of things happened with that napkin drop,” Dana Keller says admiringly.
Jacob ignores her, all his attention on me as the SEC agents approach the table. “You slept with my wife,” he says, his voice quiet. Defeated. “My wife.”
For a split second, I feel almost sorry for him. If I’ve learned anything through this whole ordeal, it’s that a woman can turn one’s life upside down. Then I remember he wanted to send me to jail because of it.
“I didn’t know she was married,” I say, meeting his gaze. “Something I’d have been glad to tell you if you’d just manned up and talked to me about it.”
He frowns. “Whitney didn’t—”
“No,” I interrupt. “Whitney didn’t mention you. Nor was she wearing a ring. I know because I’m not an asshole—I check. She knew she was having the affair, but I sure as hell didn’t.”
“Did she know about your plan?” Lara asks Jacob. “Or did you decide to take Ian down without bothering to get all the facts?”
His stubborn silence and angry scowl are answer enough.
“I hate him,” Lara whispers as we all watch him get led away.
“I don’t.”
She looks up at me, eyes wide. “Really? He was going to perjure himself with the sole intent of sending you to jail.”
“A dick move,” I acknowledge, sliding my hand to her waist. “But I still don’t hate him. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
I press my lips to her hair and tell her the truth. “Because he led you to me.”
34
LARA
Week 5: Friday, Dinnertime
“Damn, Ms. Lewis. This is some good shit,” Matt says, looking appreciatively at his champagne flute and then bending to look at the bottle.
“Call me Vanessa,” Ian’s lawyer says, handing a glass of champagne to Kate. “And I didn’t buy this. Ian did.”
Ian pauses in the process of sipping his champagne. “I did?”
“It’ll be on your bill,” Vanessa says with a wink.
Matt clinks his glass to mine and grins.
I smile back automatically. Even amid my own issues, it’s hard not to feel jubilant at our victory over corruption. And yes, I realize that’s very superhero-delusional of me, but, well . . . yesterday’s win felt good.