Page 38 of Smuggler's Cove
In one fell swoop, Olivia tossed the notebook into her desk drawer, locked it, and shoved the key into her bra. Within minutes, a security guard appeared. Olivia pointed to Seth. “Have this man arrested.”
“Arrested? For what?” Seth roared.
“Corporate espionage.” Madison leaned against the doorframe.
“Corporate what?” Seth was getting redder by the minute.
“And trespassing,” Madison added.
“Trespassing? You invited me here!” Seth continued to protest.
“You trespassed into my computer.” Madison was passionless. “It took you three months to find the opportunity, and I played right into your plan.”
He said nothing.
“Take him downstairs and wait for the police,” Madison instructed the security guard. “Tell them we have the evidence locked up. They can send someone to retrieve it.” Madison turned away from the men and walked back into her office. Olivia followed and went over to the sideboard, where Madison kept a few glass carafes of whisky, vodka, bourbon, and port. It was there for the celebrities and the advertisers. That evening, it was for Olivia and Madison.
Olivia poured two fingers’ worth of bourbon into two double old-fashioned tumblers.
Madison was sitting in one of the club chairs. “I knew he was too good to be true.” Madison took the glass from Olivia. “Thanks. He was too good-looking.”
“What, to be a spy?”
“Exactly, he had to be a spy. James Bond is not an ugly dude.”
Olivia let out a nervous laugh.
“That was some stunt you pulled.” Madison clinked Olivia’s glass. “When did you learn to move so fast?”
“There were a few occasions when outraged husbands found their wives, and we had to go into overdrive.”
“Well, you certainly mastered that skill.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself.”
“Maybe professional football is in my future.” Madison clicked her tongue. “How could I have been so foolish?”
“It’s not easy to ignore a pretty face.”
“And he was charming.” Madison took a sip. “And he made me laugh.” She took another sip.
“You were very calm and collected.”
“On the outside. Inside? I wanted to smash that pretty face into a rubble of flesh.” Madison finished her drink. “Come on. Let us have a fabulous dinner.”
“I’ll tell Lincoln he has to fend for himself,” Olivia said.
“He’ll be fine. I know you made a batch of something scrumptious over the weekend.”
“For occasions like this one. I can leave him to his own devices and not feel a pang of guilt.”
“Guilt? Do not be ridiculous. You are the best thing that ever happened to my brother.” She got up from her chair. “And me. Come on. I hear some roasted oysters calling my name.”
Once they settled into a booth at Carne Mare, they ordered octopus carpaccio, tuna tartare, and roasted oysters, along with a crisp, cold bottle of sauvignon blanc.
“So, what do you think he was really after?” Olivia asked, as she dug into the raw tuna topped with lemon zabaglione and shaved bottarga.
“He was not lying about trying to get on the internet. He was looking up Jackson Taylor, family relatives.”
