Page 46 of Miles & Mistletoe

Chapter Twelve

Ian

I pushed away from my desk, rising from my chair, too angry to continue sitting. My body was so rigid with anger that I shook. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this pissed off. Maybe it was never. The problem was, that while I was angry with others, it was mainly myself that I was angry with. I had no one to blame besides myself. My own shortsighted stupidity had led to my being duped. But trust me when I say I wouldn’t be the only person experiencing my wrath.

And at that precise moment, a knock sounded on my door.

I turned to see Jamie entering the door.

“You wanted to see me, Ian?” She smiled and glided closer to me, shutting the door behind her.

I let my gaze trail down the length of her body. She wore a cream-colored, body hugging dress that stopped just above the knee. Her hair was pinned up in a high bun and her makeup done up for more than an office visit in the middle of the day.

“You had plans?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Just working in the office,” she answered, coyly, while running a hand down her flat abdomen.

“Have you heard anything more about the Collins deal from the Financial Times?”

Jamie lifted both brows and pouted her lips before shaking her head. “No. It seems that the inquiries have died down for now.”

“Is that so?” I questioned, moving closer.

“Yes. However, that doesn’t mean the situation is over. Stacia could still—”

“Still what?”

She hesitated, mouth opening and closing before she responded. “She could still be planning something. I really think you should take me up on my suggestion to call her employer and have her fired. Who knows what type of damage she is still capable of?”

“That won’t be necessary,” I stated firmly, as I sat on the edge of my desk.

Jamie seemed to be confused. “Why not?”

“Because I already made a phone call.”

“Really? To who?”

“Richard.”

I let my answer hang in the air. I watched as Jamie’s eyes ballooned. She recovered, quickly, however. It was at that moment, I remembered that Jamie’s former career was as a struggling actress. She’d moved to Los Angeles, and for a number of years obtained minor roles in television and film before moving back to Dallas and starting as an assistant in the PR division of my company. The same division that was originally headed up by her father. Obviously, her previous career was still serving her as she was able to continually lie to my face and I was none the wiser.

Such a damn fool I was.

“He told me some interesting things,” I continued. “For example, he was able to confirm that Stacia and Bryant Jones had indeed had a short relationship. Somewhere around six months, and it is true that once Stacia broke things off, Bryant’s life fell apart.”

“See, I knew it because—”

“Due to Bryant’s wife.”

Jamie’s mouth dropped.

“Turns out, Bryant was married and had lied to Stacia. Once she found out, she dumped him and went on with her life. Bryant’s wife, on the other hand, wasn’t so generous. She ended up spilling all his dirty little business secrets to his business partners. Apparently, he was stealing behind their backs. His partners withdrew and his business fell apart. After his wife divorced him, Bryant was left with less than a quarter of his once multi-million dollar net worth, with still more debts than cash flow. Want to know what other interesting information Richard found out?” I tilted my head, clasping my hands in front of me, staring at Jamie as I waited for an answer to my question.

She cleared her throat, holding her head up higher. “W-what?”

“There was a deposit of close to fifty-thousand dollars into Bryant’s account that was made just the day after Christmas. And since Richard can just about trace anything, he was able to trace the money back to an account in the Cayman Islands. One owned by your father.” I paused, looking at Jamie with a narrowed lens. “And since dead men don’t make wire transfers, I would have to assume that the person in charge of your father’s accounts is responsible for that transfer. That person would be you, correct?”

“I-Ian, Bryant simply requested the money in exchange for telling you what he knew about Stacia. I was just trying to help.”

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