Page 43 of Sweet Surrender

But it was for the best. One of us had to be smart about this, and it looked like it was going to be me. No matter how much misery I’d have to wade through to get to the other side.

20

NOAH

The last thing I expected when Maxim burst into my office on Tuesday morning was to find him smiling. I’d been waiting for him to storm in, tell me all the various ways I could fuck myself, then announce he was dissolving our partnership. After spending Sunday and Monday ducking me, he could’ve been up to anything. Interviewing lawyers, for starters.

Instead, he beamed from ear to ear, tossing a folder on my desk. “It’s official. We got our guy, and all because you forwarded those photos to me. You’re welcome,” he concluded.

“Are you serious?” I grabbed for the folder the way I would grab for a life preserver in open water. Sending Maxim the photos had been a last-ditch effort to get him to respond. Pitiful, yes, but it seemed to have worked.

“I called up a friend of mine who works in law enforcement. Don’t ask for specifics,” he quickly warned, scowling when I glanced up from the images in the folder. Dropping into a chair in front of the desk, he continued, “I had him run the photos from the event through some kind of software they use to identify suspects at large, then ran that against our employee ID photos. There was a match. Luke Washington. He’s one of our property managers.”

“Slow down.” Sure enough, the printed photos were from the rec center, and I recognized the same man in all of them—medium height, average build, somebody who could easily melt into the background no matter where he happened to be. On Saturday, he’d stood off to the side, alone, while most of the other bystanders stood in clusters.

“I pulled his personnel file,” Maxim announced. “He’s unmarried, no children, and lives in Jersey City.”

“There was no reason for him to be there,” I murmured, trying to put it all together. “Why was he there?”

“He’s sitting at his desk at this very minute if you’d like to ask him.“ Maxim held up a finger, almost like he’d forgotten something. “Oh, did I mention he’s friends on Facebook with a handful of journalists? And he reposted the article about you several times across a handful of platforms.”

“Seems a little odd for somebody to spread ugly gossip about their boss unless they have an ax to grind,” I mused, sliding the photos away from me. I had seen enough of the snake who quite possibly had gone out of his way to tank my career.

“I was considering pulling him into my office and grilling the shit out of him, but…” he smirked, “… would you like to do the honors?”

“What the hell do you think?” I would knife anybody who tried to get between me and the pleasure of firing this prick. First, I would need to hear his explanation—if he had one.

Maxim stood and buttoned his suit jacket before crossing my office and opening the door. From where I sat, I could see him striding down the hall. The confusion and resentment that had festered for weeks began to crystalize now that I had somewhere to direct it.

There he was, trailing behind Maxim. I hadn’t noticed him at the clinic. Fuck, we could’ve had a full conversation, and I wouldn’t have made the connection. I couldn’t possibly know all my employees’ faces and names.

I wouldn’t soon forget his, though. He had the nerve to stride in like he owned the place, smiling like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Was he oblivious, or did he honestly believe he had gotten away with his bullshit?

Maxim perched on the corner of my desk, facing Luke once he came to a stop in front of me. The guy did a decent job of looking pleasant, which was what confirmed my suspicions. He didn’t look nervous about being called into the CEO’s office for the first time.

“Luke.” The name threatened to curdle in my mouth. “I understand you were at the rec center in the Bronx on Saturday. I must have missed you.”

“The Bronx?” He was not a skilled liar, that was for sure. His pathetic attempt at stalling was the sort of thing I did back when I was trying to get out of being punished for staying out all night or denting up my car. Kid stuff.

“Yes, the Bronx. Where I was participating in a sports clinic for kids.”

“An event whose details were posted online by the PR company,” Maxim added in a low voice.

“Drop the act,” I warned when Luke offered a weak shrug. “The photographers caught you more than once. You had no reason to be there. You don’t have kids, no nieces or nephews, you don’t even live in the neighborhood. Tell me. Why were you there?”

He turned his wide-eyed gaze onto Maxim like he was waiting for clarification, but Maxim wouldn’t give an inch. “Go ahead,” he muttered, inclining his head in my direction. “Mr. Goldsmith asked you a question.”

Luke’s gaze bounced between us, his throat working when he gulped. “I… I mean… it seemed like an interesting day, something I wanted to be a part of.”

“You didn’t participate,” I pointed out as my blood pressure climbed. “I would’ve remembered that.”

“You mean you enjoy attending events where you know there will be dozens of kids running around?” Maxim snickered, shaking his head. “You might want to come up with a better excuse because that sounds a little sketchy. If we brought in the police and had them seize your phone, would there be photos of little kids all over it?”

I folded my arms. “Or would there be photos of me?”

Luke’s shoulders slumped. He knew we had him. “What else was I supposed to do?” he murmured, the energy having drained from his voice. “You ruined my sister’s life. You destroyed my family.”

What a sudden left turn. I was damn close to getting whiplash. “How did I do that?” I gritted out. “I don’t know your sister.”

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