Page 39 of Miles & Mistletoe

“Are you sure about that? Remember the night of Thanksgiving? She didn’t exactly seem to be a fan of yours.”

Thinking of my initial behavior toward Stacia and of that night, I wouldn’t have been a fan of mine either.

“And you got her to agree to be your date for all these events by holding her job over her head. You know the owner of her company, personally, and all it would take is one call to get her fired from a job she’s had for years. So there was really no way for her to say no to you. You don’t think that pissed her off at least somewhat?”

That might have been the case in the beginning, but …

“And there is the personal vendetta she has against people of your stature.”

“What do you mean?”

“I suspected Stacia could be behind all of this, so I made a few phone calls. Had her investigated. Some friends of hers from Connecticut say she has always said how rich people were evil and deserved to be knocked off their high horses. They say she hated her stepfather and anyone like him.”

I squinted in Jamie’s direction. She was correct that Stacia didn’t much care for her stepfather. And yes, that could sour her mood on those of us that are well-to-do, or of that world, I suppose.

“It’s why she took the job as a flight attendant with a private airline. She wanted to come into contact with wealthier men to seduce and try to destroy them in whatever way she could. I spoke with another man it happened to.”

“Who?” I asked with sudden urgency.

“Bryant Jones. He was a client of the airline, which was where he came into contact with Stacia. They had an affair. He shared some things with her, and before you know it, his business is tanking. I have his number if you want to speak with him.” Jamie moved forward, thrusting her cell phone in my face. “I figured you might have a hard time believing me so I spoke with Bryant myself and he is more than eager to talk with you.”

Gritting my teeth I pondered Jamie’s words for a long while. What she was saying didn’t make sense, but somehow it did make sense. Stacia was the only woman with such high access to me, and given the way things started and her background with her family, one could surmise that she did have a motive to see me humiliated.

Reluctantly, I took the phone from Jamie’s hand and pressed the number she’d pulled up from her contact list. A deep, male voice answered on the third ring.

“Is this Bryant Jones?” I demanded.

“Yes. Ian Zerlinger?”

“Yes.”

“Jamie said you might be calling from her phone.”

“Then tell me what you told her.”

I listened intently a Bryant told me a story that had me seeing red and also felt like someone was taking a knife and slicing out my own heart with each word he spoke.

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