Page 25 of Sinful Beauty

“Sure,” I hear myself answer, overriding the niggling misgivings circling my gut, reminding me Mr. Peltz would not be pleased if he learned I went to dinner with an executive, but especially this executive.

“It’s a date,” he says.

“No. Not a date.” I smile because his gaze feels flirtatious, but it could easily be wishful thinking. “Dinner plans. Between friends.”

I’d say colleagues, but we both know with the number of organizational levels between us, colleagues is a stretch. Of course, who am I kidding? Nothing about this is proper.

Chapter9

Tristan

Ice pelts against the window with a fury, and the dark sky kills all visibility. The gloomy rainy day has transformed into an icy, miserable evening. My weather app shows the mixed sleet will continue until tapering off around midnight.

Nelson Peltz stops at Lucia’s desk.

“Weathers getting worse,” he announces. “I’m taking off. I’ll take the report you left and review it tonight.”

I can’t make out how Lucia responds as her back is to me.

“Anyone give you trouble with the calendar changes?”

“No, sir.” That I hear, as well as the brightness in her tone. While I can’t see her face, I imagine she’s smiling up at him like she’ll happily reschedule appointments whenever he wishes. Which, it is her job, but I’m quite curious about the person who took priority. She’s nowhere to be found in Lumina’s network, so I sent her name to Ozzie.

“Excellent.” He steps back from her desk and falters while wrapping his scarf. Our eyes meet, but there’s no acknowledgement. “The sidewalks will be slippery. Don’t stay much longer.”

“Yes, sir.”

It’s curious she always calls him sir. I wonder if that’s something she picked up somewhere along the line or if it’s what he expects of those who work for him. What a pompous wanker.

Today dashed my hopes of finding a short list of suspects by querying email source and phone logs. I haven’t yet accessed credit card receipts, but those would be reimbursable expenses, and it’s difficult to believe someone would be so inept as to use a business credit card for illegitimate expenses.

Besides, this isn’t a petty fraud we’re dealing with. We’re dealing with someone who is choosing illegal means to expedite research and speed delivery of products to market. A person, or group of someones, willing to use human test subjects as if they’re lab rats. And they’re willing to kill to keep the secret.

Undiscovered deception can create a feeling of superiority, and that’s when carelessness begins. There are signs the carelessness has begun. William Salo is still alive and might wake to tell us more. His former boss might have died of natural causes, but if he didn’t, that means someone is eliminating anyone with knowledge of William Salo’s activities.

Hun Tap Tareth is another source that was undeniably eliminated, but he’s the sort who ran in a dangerous circle. There’s no way to know which party ended him.

Lucia stretches her neck to one side and kneads her shoulder muscle. Her nails are short and unpolished, but she looks as elegant as any of the women on the executive team thanks to her slender shoulders, erect posture, and her low braided bun. Her glossy, twisted dark strands catch the eye and fill me with the desire to undo the twisted knot and send her sexy mane tumbling.

But I shall behave. She may be an invaluable ally if I can encourage to open up and share with me what she knows about the others. And if I can’t get her to open up, then I’ll have to dig deeper to figure out why. I can’t forget that she’s someone who theoretically could be enticed to take part in a lucrative scheme.

I don’t have any work to bring home, but even if I did, I’d place it on the network and login from home, as taking work home doesn’t fit with my profile of the spoiled nepo baby. My coat drapes one arm, and the rhythmic sound on the panes behind me has me wishing for an umbrella.

My knuckles wrap softly against the door frame. Lucia startles when my knuckles hit the wood.

“You ready?”

She glances around warily, like a guilty party scanning for witnesses.

“I’ll meet you.” I strain to decipher the hushed words. “At the pub.”

She turns back to her computer.

Peltz’s office is door is locked, and the light is off, as are all the office lights on this floor. Given the weather and the fact many here live outside of the city proper, I don’t expect to pass another soul on my way out of the building.

Under normal conditions, I’d push for her to closeup for the night and join me, but her uneasiness stops me. To me, this is temporary. I’m hunting killers and those complicit, then I’ll be on my way. To her, this is her career. Her livelihood.

People expect Tristan Wagner to ignore rules. An office affair presumed. If I mess around with the staff or violate a few HR policies, thanks to the glory of nepotism, the most I would endure is a stern lecture. I can’t anticipate the same for her.

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