I Married a Billionaire: Lost and Found(22)

CHAPTER SEVEN





The next morning, when Daniel announced he was meeting with a journalist - on purpose - I thought he’d really, truly lost his mind.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to read if he could possibly be joking. But no. He wasn’t. "A journalist? Are you serious?"

"No, no. Well, yes." He fiddled with his watch. "She's not like the others."

"No, of course she's not."

He let out a long breath that wasn't exactly a sigh. "She's in contact with someone else at the same firm where my broker works, and she thinks she has some inside information about the way the trade might have actually happened. Something they're not telling me, in the interest of protecting their reputation."

"And what's her interest in this whole thing?"

"She wants to get the exclusive story, of course." Daniel was unfastening and re-fastening his…cufflinks? Seriously, cufflinks? To meet with a journalist?

"Aren't you a little overdressed for a secret rendezvous?"

Daniel blinked at me. "She's coming here," he said. "Did I not mention that?"

Christ.

"No, you didn't," I said, standing up. "Should I get dressed?"

"We can't meet in public," he said, seeming not to hear me. "She wouldn't discuss it in any detail over the phone, but I have a feeling she has something solid to implicate some of the people there. We don't want any of it to get out until we know for sure what's really going on."

"Well, sure." I rummaged through my closet. Even if she didn't care, I didn't want to look like a schlub next to Daniel. I had enough of that feeling already.

I ended up pulling on a black pencil skirt and a turquoise blouse. I tied my hair back and popped in some diamond stud earrings - I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard, but I also didn't want to look like the help. My encounter with the girl last week had taught me that it was best to at least pretend that I had a touch of class about me, otherwise I'd live to regret it.

The door buzzer went off sooner than I was expecting. Daniel rushed to answer it, and I hung back a little, standing near the kitchen and trying to look dignified.

He opened the door, and I heard them exchange greetings. I stepped forward, slowly.

What I saw made me wish I'd stayed locked in the bedroom.

She was tall and elegant, her sleek black pumps putting her almost at an even height with Daniel. Her outfit wasn't terribly dissimilar to mine, but while she looked like a model who'd stepped out of a catalog shoot, I looked like I was playing dress-up in someone else's clothes. Her hair bounced on her shoulders, catching the light just so. And still, even with all the trappings of femininity surrounding her, it was very clear that she was not someone to be trifled with.

I took a deep breath, holding my chin high.

"And you must be Mrs. Thorne." She was advancing on me. I extended my hand, and she took it in a firm, confident grip. "I'm Genevieve Winters. I promise you, I'm going to do everything in my power to get your husband acquitted of this ridiculous charge."

"Isn't that his lawyer's job?" I blurted. Behind me, I saw Daniel pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Well, yes and no." She wasn't taken aback, not in the slightest. Of course she wasn't. "But I have access to certain channels - people who might be more reluctant to talk to a lawyer. But they know and trust me. They know I protect my sources. I'll be working with Mr. Thorne very closely to make sure we do everything we can to find the truth."

"Great," I said, with a frozen smile. She finally released my hand.

"All right, Daniel," she said, turning back towards him. "Let's talk about what we've got so far."

I wasn't sure if I was meant to leave or not. I stood awkwardly at the corner of the living room, until Genevieve shot me a warm smile.

"Join us if you'd like," she said. "Unless Mr. Thorne has any objections."

Daniel blinked. "No, of course not."

I sat down on the edge of the sofa, still feeling strangely unwelcome. Genevieve was unfastening a black leather binder, pulling out papers and stacking them into neat little piles on our coffee table.

"Now," she said. "Before we begin, I want to make it clear that I'm not accusing anyone of anything. I just want to tell you what I know, so that you can move forward with the information as you choose. As I was telling Mrs. Thorne, I have connections that could help you in building your defense."

Daniel nodded. "I understand," he said.

"So," she said, taking a deep breath. "It's neither here nor there, but I happen to have a prior business relationship with someone who works at the same firm as your broker. After your accusation hit the news, it just happened to come up in conversation. My source thought there was something suspicious about the whole thing." She paused, and looked up at both of us briefly. "You understand, I'm sure, that I can't reveal his identity."

"Of course," said Daniel. "Go on."

"Well," she said. "It took a while to get the information out of him, but he finally admitted that he'd 'seen something.'" She leaned forward a little. "Your broker has been meeting with someone in secret."