Masquerade (Swept Away #2.5)(6)
“Is there ever going to be a woman who deserves my heart?” I teased her, knowing that she wanted much more for me than just giving my heart away.
“There will be, one day, when you’re in your forties.” She smiled.
“Forties?” My jaw dropped. “I’ll be an old man then.”
“Better to be old and smart than to be a young fool in love.”
“I guess so.” I nodded in agreement, though I still thought that forty seemed like such a long time away.
“One day you’ll make a great father and husband, Jakob. Any woman will be lucky to have you.”
“You’re just saying that.” I blushed, feeling pleased at my mother’s words. One day I’d make my mother proud and she’d forget all the pain she’d lived through. She’d realize that everything had been worth it. I would make her happy.
*
“Steve, it’s Jakob,” I said as soon as the phone stopped ringing. I knew that Steve didn’t talk when he answered the phone until someone had spoken first.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” His voice let me know it was anything but a pleasure.
“You’ve been working with Larry recently, right?”
“Yes.” His speech was tinged with a hint of a British accent this morning—heaven only knew why. “I’ve been working with him ever since Mr. Bradley died.”
“That’s good.” I felt guilty that I hadn’t known that before, but Steve was one of those people who was easily forgotten. He’d always had a chip on his shoulder and he’d resented both David and me. Steve grew up in a foster home and had started in the mail room at Bradley when he was seventeen, quickly rising through the ranks when my father took him under his wing. I always wondered what it was about Steve that had attracted my father’s interest, but I never really cared enough to actually investigate their link. “Are you going to the company ball this weekend?”
“Yes,” he said, not giving me anything more than what I’d asked.
“You’ve heard about this Bianca London?”
“Yes,” he said again. I pursed my lips to stop myself from expressing my frustration with him.
“She contacted Larry about the company?”
“Her father died and Larry handed her a few boxes of his personal papers.”
“Without going through them first?” I frowned. Why would he just hand over the papers?
“What can I help you with, Jakob?”
“Do you think this Bianca is going to be a problem?”
“To whom?”
“To anyone?”
“Yes, she represents a risk.”
“Is Larry worried?”
“Larry has tried to take care of all the potential problems.”
“How?”
“He had me go see Mr. London as he was dying.”
“And?”
“He wanted to make sure that I took care of the problem.” Steve’s British accent became slightly Australian and I tried not to roll my eyes. I wasn’t sure why he thought he was such a good actor.
“What did you do?” I picked up my pen and tapped it against my desk.
“I didn’t kill him.” Steve laughed. “If that’s what you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t wondering that,” I lied.
“I could kill if I had to,” Steve said softly. “But I didn’t have to.”
“What did you do?”
“Larry wanted to make sure that the truth didn’t come out.” Steve’s voice was deep, and I could picture the look on his gaunt, skinny face as he spoke. “Or if it did, he wanted an alternate story to come out.”
“What alternate story?”
“He wanted to ensure that he and Jeremiah weren’t caught up in any truths that might come to light.”
“How?”
“He wanted London to sign a deathbed confession.”
“Really?” I twirled my fourteen-karat-gold pen in my fingers as I sat back in my leather office chair and thought for a second. “Did Bianca get this confession in her paperwork?”
“No,” Steve said. “It will only come to light if Bianca starts making trouble.”
“I see.”
“David wants us all to discuss everything at the ball.”
“All of us?”
“We need a plan.”
“Yes, I suppose a plan would be in order.” I nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll see you on Saturday, then.”
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
“It’s all coming out now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” Steve’s voice was harsh. “It’s time for people to pay.”
I hung up without asking him what he meant. I knew Steve wouldn’t explain his cryptic words to me and I didn’t really care. Not now, when I had more important things to think about. This was the beginning. I knew that as surely as I knew that my mother’s life and sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.
I went to Google and typed in “Bianca London.” A number of different pages showed up and I clicked on the first link. “Brad Pitt to Star in Slave Movie,” read the title of the article, and I clicked out of it quickly. That wasn’t going to help me. I looked through the rest of the links and saw that all of them were articles about movies. I clicked on the second page of the search results and saw a more in-depth profile on a university page. Bianca was a history grad student. I stared at her photo for a few seconds, studying the face of the woman who was creating so much turmoil.