Page 17 of Easy Reunion
Chapter 7
Rierson
“Iwant to see the draft revisions by lunch.” I stand, closing my laptop as I do. “Is that understood?” Several heads bob up and down rapidly. “You have three hours. I suggest you get to work,” I add scathingly.
Chairs can’t be slid back fast enough as the inner circle of attorneys and paralegals who directly report to me scurry for the boardroom door. “Christ, I left for two days and the contract with Larruscain has gone to hell.” I whirl on my friend, who’s sitting with his fingers steepled against his lips. “Is this what you were alluding to yesterday? Did you think I’d deliberately fuck up this contract out of all of them?” I accuse.
Eli’s giving me a thoughtful perusal as he rubs his thumb over his lower lip. “What’s her name?”
Not caring I could likely write myself up for violating six different corporate policies, I flick him off as I stalk to the windows out the fifty-fourth-floor conference room. I see nothing but Kelsey’s gray eyes when the unusually overcast sky reflects back at me. Damnit. Turning, I find a very patient Eli Boudreaux waiting. Knowing he’ll wait me out all day if he has to, I bite out, “Kelsey,” before I walk back to my seat and fall into it.
“The same woman you went to Savannah to apologize to?” His voice is incredulous. I want to punch him, but I learned long ago if he’s not with his wife, Kate, over lunch, he’s training with his brothers in Krav Maga.
Bastard could probably kill me and make it look like an accident, I think not without a touch of bitterness that edges into my voice when I answer, “The one and the same.”
Eli lets out a low whistle that’s grating. “Fuck you, Eli,” I tell him bluntly.
“No, thanks, I’m pretty certain you have enough to do fixing the problems you just found in our contract.”
Damn, I hate myself even more right now than I thought I did ten minutes ago if that’s even possible. Leaning forward, I brace my forearms on the conference room table. “I swear, those clauses were not in that contract when I left. Look.” I swivel my laptop around. I haven’t had a chance to connect to the network since I woke up late. The date on my contract is when I last downloaded it.
Two days ago.
Eli stares at the screen a moment before sighing. “That’s what I was afraid of. I want to bring Kate in on this.” Eli’s wife specializes in corporate espionage. She used to work for a multinational firm until she met and fell in love with Eli. Now, she heads the insider threat program for Bayou Enterprises.
I scrub my hand over my hair in frustration. “Are you sure? Can’t you give me a day to check the other contracts in the hopper?”
He growls low in his throat. “Are you willing to risk it if this isn’t a careless mistake?” Before I can respond, he holds up his hand. “You’ve got until lunch, but you’ll let Beau, Van, and I know if you find anything before Kate does?” He rattles off the names of his partners—and siblings—all who hold an equal stake in Bayou Enterprises.
All of whom are my bosses.
“Immediately,” I assure him.
He nods. “Now, take a breath before you combust. Tell me what happened in Savannah.”
I want to do that less than I want to spend time reviewing the multimillion-dollar contracts that are supposed to be locked. But Eli’s been my friend for years, and long ago when I was so drunk he helped carry me home, I told him all about Kelsey and how I had no way to make up for hurting her.
Leaning back in my chair, I wish desperately for a drink. It might wash the bitterness in my voice away as I recount the events of the past weekend. Even Eli’s whiskey-colored eyes widen when I bite out, “I don’t know if she left the fucking badge for me to find or if it was an accident.”
“Jesus, Ry. Is there a chance she didn’t recognize you?”
“Not when I introduced myself.” My voice is pure acid.
Eli winces. “Ouch.”
I stand, trying to end our conversation. “In the meanwhile, I have about three hundred pages of contracts to review before lunch.”
He stands as well. “Let me know what you find out.”
Somehow, I don’t think he means about the contracts. And yet, I can’t be irritated with the nosy bastard. A wave of affection washes over me as he makes his way out of the executive conference room. Eli’s just too used to the rest of the Boudreauxs poking their noses into each other’s business. He can’t help himself now that Kate’s softened the armor he used to wear. Before that, he used to bitch about his family’s constant “nosy interventions” when we’d grab a quick beer in the Quarter on the rare occasion either of us would leave the office.
I spent the whole flight home trying to find the right words so I could contact Kee—Kelsey—through her publisher. But the apology I owe is to Kelsey Kennedy, not Kee Long. And being a damn lawyer, I know the layers of protection she likely went through to establish her alter ego.
Fuck, I don’t have time for this right now. Snatching up my laptop, I make my way to my own office. I feel a perverse pleasure when the heads of my employees sink in their chairs a little as I storm past.
This situation is a monumental disaster that’s ready to explode. It would have cost Bayou Enterprises millions of dollars to European regulators within the first month. “You all have two hours and forty-five minutes,” I bark out just before I slam the door to my office.
Then again, so do I. Flinging myself into a chair, I boot up my desktop, still not connecting my laptop to the network. Pulling up a classified proposal Bayou Enterprises is bidding on with the US government, I begin to read. Logically speaking, it’s an easy way to eliminate a large portion of the legal pool as only people with certain levels of clearance have access to this network.
