Maid for the Billionaire(8)

―I want the information tonight.‖

Jake sighed. ―I‘m sure Luros can get someone out there.‖

―I don‘t care what it costs. I want the information before eight,‖ Dominic said.

―Oh, you‘ll get it. There‘s not much you can‘t get if you‘re willing to pay the price.‖

―You‘d be surprised,‖ Dominic muttered and hung up.

At seven forty-five, a fascinated Dominic discovered that Abigail Dartley had a secret. The proof, which had arrived just a few minutes before, was spread across Dominic‘s desk in typed and photographic form. Luros Systems was worth their high fee. They‘d used his description to discern that she wasn‘t the regularly scheduled housekeeper, Lillian Dartley, but she could be the woman‘s sister.

Shortly after his initial conversation with the private investigator, Dominic had received Abby‘s driver‘s license photo in a phone text requesting confirmation of her identity.

The rest of information had come less than an hour later via a courier. There were financial records, interviews with neighbors and friends, and a fascinating description of Abby‘s last boyfriend: a bank manager, good looking, polite, reliable. His initial assessment of Abby had been correct. She liked to play it safe.

He held up a photo of the two sisters together and was further impressed by Scott Luros‘

security company. The physical description of the two women had similarities. Both had long, dark brown curls and light brown eyes and Dominic guessed that many men would have also found Abby‘s sister attractive. However, Lillian was lean where Abby was lush, sharp where Abby was soft. The major difference between the two was in their body language. Abby held herself straight and tall like a woman who proudly drove the speed limit. Her sister‘s body was stiff with a defiance which might have explained the awkward physical distance between the two.

He scanned Abby‘s life history with deepening interest. The wholesome act might not have been an act at all. The woman everyone simply called Abby had taken on the responsibility of her sister after the death of her parents. She was a respected member of her community, a friend to many, and a considerate neighbor. In the three pages of recorded interviews, there wasn‘t an unkind word about her.

Nothing in her profile implied that she was anything but a middle school teacher who had covered for her sister for an evening; a teacher whose summer vacation had started a few days ago.

Perfect.

A sweet little teacher who had innocently told her neighbor how much trouble her sister would be in if the switch were revealed.

Even better.

This was almost too easy.

With the reading of the will the next afternoon, he would be free as early as –

A sudden thought struck him. Why not bring her? Abby would make the perfect distraction. With her at his side, he doubted he would care what stipulations his father had written into his will or how volatile his sister became.

Just thinking about her now was enough to get his blood rushing around. It also wouldn‘t hurt to let her see that he was so rich that being left out of his father‘s will was merely an annoyance. Yes, he‘d bring her with him – make the unbearable situation tolerable and then take her to some ridiculously expensive penthouse in the city and show little Miss School Teacher exactly what she‘d been missing.

He dialed the home number attached to her profile photo and waited, barely breathing, while it rang.

―Hello,‖ she answered on the fourth ring.

―This is Dominic Corisi. I‘d like to speak to Abby Dartley,‖ he said.

Silence was followed by muffled words spoken to someone else as she apparently covered the phone with her hand. A female voice answered her, mostly likely her sister. They didn‘t sound like they were in agreement on what to do and her ability to muffle their conversation slipped as their exchange became more heated.

He cut into their conversation. ―Although your suggestion sounds entertaining, it‘s not necessary to have your sister pretend to be you, Abby. I know all about your little ruse.‖

―Crap,‖ she said, ―you heard that?‖

Unexpectedly, he found himself chuckling again. He dropped his feet to the floor and rested an elbow on his desk. ―Let‘s just say that you made a good choice when you went into education rather than espionage.‖

―How do you find me?‖ she asked. ―And how do you know that I‘m a teacher?‖

―That‘s not important. I am calling about…‖

She interrupted him. ―Oh, my god, you paid someone to ask questions about me! My neighbor said someone had been asking about me tonight and she thought their questions were rather odd.‖

So much for Luros being discrete. He‘d have to mention that to them, but he supposed that they weren‘t often given such a short time frame to gather personal details on someone.

―You left without even giving your name. Can you blame a man for wanting to know who he had dinner with?‖ he asked.

―So you grilled my neighbors? That‘s not like looking me up in the phonebook,‖ she countered.

―I think we both know we have some unfinished business,‖ he said, running a finger over the lip of his still full glass.

―You make it sound like more than it was. It was nothing,‖ she argued.

―Because you ran,‖ he said.

―I did not run.‖

―Oh, yes, you did. Did you really think I‘d care that you were a teacher and not the regular housekeeper?‖