Reddest Black: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Book 7 (In the Shadows) Page 2

  “Gavin asked me to attend a meeting.” He glances at the laptop in my hand. “Did you need something?”

  The last few weeks Sebastian has been putting in extra long hours and we’ve barely seen each other. I’ve been too tired to stay up late, and when I try to rise early, he’s already up and heading into Blake Industries. Not only have we not worked on a case together since his project with his father’s company started, but I’ve been feeling less attractive lately. Even though my belly hasn’t expanded at the same rate as my boobs, I couldn’t help but wonder if Sebastian missed his wife’s sexy body. I’d really hoped we could at least have lunch together to try to reconnect, but I suppress my disappointment and set my laptop down on his desk. “This will only take a minute.” Queuing up the video, I hit Play and let it run, cutting it off right before the explosion. “As you can see, other than Isabel and the driver, the man and his dog are the only ones who go near the vehicle prior to the explosion.”

  Sebastian’s jaw muscle jumps. “I see you let the Pastor get to you.” When I purse my lips, he gestures to the screen. “That’s clearly an old man walking his dog. Do you think he planned for it to poop where it did too?”

  It’s hard not to bristle at his comment, but I know he’s under a lot of pressure right now, so I force a reasoned response. “The camera’s angle makes it difficult to tell, but he seemed to be shuffling the dog along.”

  “I would push my pet along too if he started to do his business in the middle of a busy street. The dog barely made it to the opposite sidewalk before he let loose.”

  “You really don’t think this is significant?” I say, blinking at him. “Yes, the man’s body blocks some of his actions and with that Fedora we never see his face, but you can clearly see that he touches the limo near the gas flap cover as he bends over next to the wheel-well to pick up the dog’s droppings. This sheds some light on Paulo’s claim that someone else had access and could’ve moved the device.”

  “That’s a bit of a stretch.”

  I can tell his mind is on business-related matters, and he doesn’t want to give Paulo any space in his head, but I quickly rewind the video and play it again. “Do you see how the man’s hand touching the car as he bends over looks like he might be wearing gloves? Who does that in the summer?”

  Sebastian shrugs. “Back in my old neighborhood, we had an elderly neighbor who wore long pants and a scarf all summer long.” Setting his briefcase on his desk, he slips the folder and his laptop inside and snaps it shut. “If I knew my dog might have some digestive issues on its walk, I’d probably wear gloves too.”

  “I’m serious,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “Don’t let Paulo win.” His blue gaze holds mine for a second, his tone softening. “You started to say something about your book earlier. Have you finished that last chapter yet?”

  Closing my laptop, I set it on his desk and shake my head. “Not quite. It’ll come to me.”

  He nods and taps out a text on his phone, then hooks my chin with his thumb, tilting it up to press his lips to mine. “Den and Theo will coordinate from this office. The other BLACK Security guys will head over for group meetings at Blake Industries for the rest of this week.”

  “Theo doesn’t need to stay. He should be included in the other meetings too.”

  “He stays.” Sebastian says tersely as he tucks his phone in his suit pocket.

  I bite my lip to prolong the pleasant tingle of his kiss, while eyeing him with suspicion. “You just poked tons of holes in my video evidence, so why the overkill protection?”

  “It’s never overkill to protect what’s most precious to me. I think you should take advantage of this quiet lull this week to finish your book. Before you know it, Tater-Tot will be here.”

  “We’re back to small food names, are we?” I say lightly.

  “I want to live to see my child’s birth.”

  I smirk, loving his wit. “I knew you were a smart man.”

  “I’m a quick learner.” Flashing a smile, he lifts his briefcase and folds his free hand over my belly as he steals another kiss. “See you two tonight.”

  Smiling after his confident stride as he walks out, I already miss the electricity of our brief exchange and wish we’d had more time to banter. Despite the fact he swiss-cheesed the hell out of my video lead, my gut is telling me that there’s something to that old man and his poop-prone dog. But there’s no point arguing over evidence that would require a huge leap of faith. I need proof.

  I move behind my husband’s desk and slide into his chair, turning my laptop around. I know I should be working on my book, but I can’t be creative while my brain is stuck on this case. Opening my laptop, I click on the server where we store scanned case files, then start reading through the documents I’d scoured months ago.

  After an hour of staring at crime scene photos and lab analysis with nothing helpful jumping out at me, the baby begins to move around a lot, making me feel a bit light headed. I pat my stomach. “Hungry, little one?” Rolling the chair back, I stand and arch my back. “Hmmm, maybe your dad is too.”

  “You seem right at home in this role,” I say from the doorway of Mina’s office at Blake Industries. Mina turns from staring at a few different marketing slogans tacked on her wall.

  Grinning, she approaches and gives me a hug. “Hey, Talia! Aren’t you the prettiest mother-to-be. Where’s Den?” she asks, peering around me. “Did you give him a break while you’re here?”

  “So to speak. Den’s here. He’s having lunch with a colleague who took over his old job guarding your father.”

  “Ah, I see.” Brown eyes alight with excitement, Mina pushes her long blonde hair over her shoulder and bends to speak toward my belly. “Hello in there, my little niece.”

  “We don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet,” I remind her as she straightens.

  “Just wishful thinking,” she says, waving. “I would love for Josi to have a girl cousin close to her age. Not only could they share clothes and toys, but I’ll bet they’d be inseparable. So, are you ready for the party in your baby’s honor tomorrow night?”

  I laugh that the baby chose now to turn around inside me. “Um, I’d say little-Blake-to-be must’ve heard you. That felt like a somersault.”

  Mina grins and puts her hand on my belly. “Darn, she’s not moving for me now.” Dropping her hand, she sighs her disappointment. “But boy I remember when Josi did those. Felt like she was doing karate in there. You look wonderful. I love your dress. Only a redhead could rock that camel color so well. How are you feeling?”

  “Thanks, I’m finally getting around to wearing some maternity pieces I bought a few weeks ago.” In truth, I’d gone home to change for my lunch date with my husband. I hoped he would enjoy the surprise and approve of my sleeker look. “My hair might be done up in a French twist, but I feel like I move like a zombie.” I say, giving a half-smile.

  “It’s the relaxin loosening your body up.” Mina nods sagely. “Means you’re getting ready.”

  “If my joints get any looser, I might start losing body parts soon.”

  Mina’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Don’t worry. I’ll just stick ‘em back on for you like Mrs. Potato Head. I’m so excited about the baby shower tomorrow and relieved that Cass was able to have it at Calder’s house. You know I would’ve offered my place, but it’s a disaster with Josi’s stuff everywhere.” Taking my hand, she starts to tug me into her office. “Come in and chat for a bit.”

  I shake my head and lift the deli bag in my other hand. “I can’t. I brought Sebastian lunch, but I don’t know which office he’s in. Can you tell me?”

  “Oh, Seb’s probably on the fourth floor with the IT guys. I know he’s been spending a lot more time with that team lately. Do you want me to take you there?”

  “No, I’ll find him. See you tomorrow night,” I say, hugging Sebastian’s little sister once more.

  I step off the elevator onto the fourth floor and gaze left
and right, but have no clue which direction to start looking for my husband. Spying the middle-aged administrative assistant sitting outside her boss’s office, I walk up to the serious-faced woman with a platinum blonde pixie haircut. “Excuse me, can you tell me where Sebastian Blake is?”

  The woman grins widely, her gaze straying to my belly. “You must be Talia. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Thea. When are you due?”

  “Yes, I’m Talia,” I say, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you too. I’m due in two weeks so…” I lift the bag of food up. “I have to grab alone time with my husband while I can.”

  “He has been working some long hours.” Glancing toward the hallway to my right, she continues, “Go down the hall and then make a left. There’s a conference room at the end of that hall. I blocked it off for a two-hour group meeting earlier today.”

  “Oh…” I bite my lip. “Did he order lunch for the meeting?”

  She quickly shakes her head. “Not that I know of. The other team members went out to lunch before the meeting. I just got back from lunch myself and was going to check and see if Mr. Blake wanted me to order food for him. The meeting should be wrapping up very soon if it hasn’t already.”

  “Perfect timing then. Thanks, Thea,” I say, before turning down the hall on the right.

  Once I turn left and then start toward the conference room straight at the end of the hall, I see my husband eating from a takeout carton with chopsticks. My steps slow as I watch a slender hand slide something across the table toward him, feminine laughter joining in. “Go on, Seb. Tell me your fortune.”

  Seb? I come to a halt. As far as I know, the only person who calls Sebastian that name is Mina. At that moment, the woman leans forward and a shapely leg, long dark hair, and her profile come into view.

  Regan. One of Mina’s oldest friends and also the woman my husband had a purely sexual relationship with in the past before we got together. Even Mina didn’t know about their hook up.

  I can tell by the fact they’re sitting at the end of the table near the door that they’re alone in the conference room. This knowledge only fuels the mixture of emotions flying through me. I start to step forward, but my foot wobbles slightly in the high heel. I catch myself against the wall, a sobering reminder that I’m not the svelte, sure-footed woman my brain still thinks I am. The last thing I want to do is stumble ungracefully as I enter the room and give that bitchy twig flirting with my husband something to smirk at.

  Turning around, I walk back down the hall. Once I reach Thea’s desk, I keep my expression composed. “Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?”

  “Sure thing. Guess their meeting is still going on?” she says as she pulls the cool floating pen in the shape of a dart from its bulls-eye “holder” at the front of her desk, then slides the pen and a piece of paper toward me.

  Taking the pen, I try to think of something to say.

  I had no clue Regan worked here…or that she’s clearly still pursuing Sebastian. Throwing this dart pen at her perfect, tight ass seems like a better use of it. Then again, she’d probably enjoy getting tagged in the tail. And ask for more. Ugh, don’t go there, Talia.

  I grip the pen tighter and stare at the paper. No words come that won’t make me sound insecure. But I trust my instincts over feelings of insecurity and my instincts are roaring.

  Setting the pen on the blank sheet of paper, I pull my sandwich out and then roll the bag closed around Sebastian’s lunch.

  “Would you like me to give that to Mr. Blake for you?” Thea says, holding her hand out for the bag.

  “No, that’s okay,” I say right before I drop the bag into the trash next to her desk.

  As Thea gapes, her gaze dropping to the trashcan, I try to set the pen back into its holder, then sigh my frustration that I can’t get it to “float” like it was before.

  “This thing is finicky.” Smiling apologetically, she takes it from me. “You have to set the pen’s distance to the magnet just right. If it touches the surrounding plastic, it doesn’t stick.”

  Of course she gets it on the first try, but Thea’s comment about metal and plastic, magnets sticking or not, shifts my thoughts from Regan and Sebastian, sparking an idea that I hadn’t considered. With a new theory pinging in my head, pushing the need to revisit the bombing’s crime scene evidence, I welcome the distraction. Shoving the fantasy of stabbing Regan in the ass out of my head, I walk over to the elevator and push the button. Sebastian and I need to talk, but until then, work awaits.

  As the doors woosh open, I hold them and glance back at Thea, welcoming the calm focus that has settled over me. “I need to get back to work. Please don’t tell Sebastian that I came by. He’ll be disappointed that he missed me.”

  Nodding my thanks, I head off to prove that my husband needs to trust my instincts as if they were his own.

  Chapter Two

  Sebastian

  Just before I turn into the parking deck, I receive a text from Theo.

  Talia’s still here at work.

  Frowning, I punch the number for Theo’s cell. “Why the hell is my wife there? It’s almost eight.”

  “Don’t know. You’ll have to ask Den. He’s sending me home for the night, but before I left, I wanted you to know, since you asked for extra security.”

  “Go home. I’m heading there now.” Exhaling, I punch in Den’s number, then turn my car around and head back toward the office.

  “Good evening, Sebastian.”

  “It would be if I wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment. Why didn’t you tell me Talia was working late?”

  “I didn’t realize her every move needed to be reported.”

  Ignoring his droll comment, I speak in a clipped tone. “Why isn’t she home, Den?”

  “You’ll have to ask her.”

  Before I can say, “I’m asking you,” he clicks off.

  “Sonofabitch!” I grumble, annoyed the British bastard is making a habit of hanging up on me. Since I’m less than ten minutes from the office, I don’t bother to call back.

  Den glances up from his desk just outside Talia’s office when I stop in front of it. “Are you trying to get yourself fired, Den?”

  Talia’s bodyguard stands to his impressive six-five height and casually buttons his jacket over his holstered gun. “Only Talia can fire me.”

  “I pay your salary.”

  Den pins me with his cool MI6-trained stare. “Your wife is my priority. I was under the impression that is all you care about.”

  I start to speak, but he has a point. My ego takes a back seat to Talia’s safety. “You should at least text me to let me know when she’ll be late.”

  He nods, acknowledging my comment. “In the future, I’ll inform you of her arrival time.”

  “Thank you.” Rolling my tense shoulders, I gesture to Talia’s closed door. “Why is she here so late?”

  Den just gives me a blank stare. I grunt my irritation at his loyal silence, then step to her door and turn the knob, walking inside.

  Talia lifts her gaze from her laptop screen, chopsticks in one hand and a box of Chinese takeout in the other. “What are you doing here?”

  Closing the door, I walk over and pick up her laptop’s bag from the chair in front of her desk. “I’ve come to take you home.”

  “I’m working,” she says, gesturing toward her desk with her chopsticks. “Den will bring me home when I’m done.”

  “Whatever you’re working on will have to wait until tomorrow. It’s time to shut down, Little Red,” I say quietly as I unzip her bag.

  “You’re the one who suggested that I take advantage of the quiet time in the office.”

  My gaze shifts to the box in her hand. “It looks to me like you’re working long hours and eating crappy takeout food. How is that good for the baby?”

  “It’s vegetables and rice, sans MSG, Sebastian.” Exhaling a tired sigh, she drops her chopsticks into the empty box, then ties it all up inside the plastic take out bag.

/>   “You’re usually yawning around this time of night.” I glance at the clock on the wall. “My suggestion didn’t include you trying to finish your book in one day.”

  “If I’m on a roll with a project, I stay,” she says, shrugging.

  When she doesn’t move to stand, but instead picks up a pen and jots down a couple of notes on the notepad in front of her, I try a different tact. “Den won’t leave until you do. Let him go home and eat dinner.”

  “I bought him dinner too,” she says. I catch the guilt flickering across her face, but I miss the bloom on her cheeks as she glances toward the door anyway. I don’t say a word because I know my wife. A couple seconds pass, and she mutters, “Fine,” then stands and pulls her knee-length jacket off her chair, slipping it over her black turtle neck and light grey slacks. I exhale to ease the tension from my jaw and put her laptop, notepad, and research file folders inside the laptop case for her.

  As I wait for my wife to finish buttoning her jacket, my gaze strays to her hair and locks on the formal twist. “Wasn’t your hair down earlier today?”

  Talia nods and pulls something from her coat pocket, tossing it to me. “Here.”

  Catching it, I stare at her in confusion. “What’s this?”

  “Your fortune.” She lifts her chin toward the fortune cookie. “Open it.”

  Since she hasn’t moved from behind her desk, I humor her and drop the cookie through the end of the plastic that’s already open, then break it to read the typed message on the paper inside.

  Your child will be born in a jail cell.

  “What the hell is this?” I snap, jerking my gaze to her.

  Talia pauses as she rounds the side of her desk, her expression eerily calm. “If you don’t want your wife arrested for assault, tell Regan to stay away from you.”

  My chest tightens. What the fuck? Before I can reply, she picks up the laptop bag and walks out of her office, straight past Den’s desk. Frustrated she didn’t give me a chance to speak, I watch her pull open the door and walk outside without looking back, then cut my gaze to Den as he steps into place beside me. “Was Talia at Blake Industries today?”