Keeping Gemma (Holiday Cove 2)

I sighed. “I can’t tell you. But listen to me, he’s behind this. You need to look into him. I’m sure you’ll find the breadcrumbs back to whoever broke in and tampered with the planes. My planes!”

The two agents studied me and it took every ounce of control to keep from jumping up and screaming at them that I was telling the truth. “We’ll look into it,” Agent Montgomery said, rising from his place on the couch. He handed the contract back to me and the two men filed out of the room without a glance back.

“Argh!” I growled, slamming the pages down onto my desk as soon as they were on the other side of the closed door.

The phone on my desk rang, interrupting my tirade. “What?” I demanded, jerking the receiver to my ear.

“Temper, temper. You know, with that kind of greeting, it’s no wonder business has fallen off.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rose to stand on end at the silky, self-satisfied purr that could only belong to one man.

“What the fuck do you want, O’Keefe?”

“You know what I want, Rosen. Don’t play dumb. It’s beneath you.”

My fist clenched around the phone, wishing I could slam it into the side of his skull. “Well, as you probably already know, I’m a little tangled up right now.”

“Yes,” he replied, sounding bored. “I see you have company.”

See? Were his people outside right now? Did he know I’d just finished a meeting with the lead investigator for both the FBI and the FAA?

“Yeah, so your contract is going to have to wait,” I said, regaining a grip on my control. I had to buy myself some time. If I signed those papers, it would take a helluva lot more work to get them nullified than pushing the meeting off a few days to give me enough time to prove to the investigators that I wasn’t delusional.

“Sadly, yes, it will. I’m needed back at my home office, in LA.” I rolled my eyes at the way he sounded put-out by the delay. “I’ll be in touch when I’m able to break away. Maybe I’ll have my private jet fly me back over. It seems as though your airstrip will be vacant for the near future.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Which made me hate him all the more.

“Fuck you, O’Keefe.”

“Now, is that any way to speak to your business partner?”

“We are not business partners,” I retorted through gritted teeth.

“No, I suppose you’re right. Although, you can’t say I didn’t give you a chance. Remember, Rosen, I tried to be a nice guy in all this.”

Hot rage boiled up in my veins, rushing into every extremity until I was hot with fury.

“Come on, admit it. I did you a favor,” he continued, the smile audible in his smarmy tone. “I—albeit unintentionally—took care of Talia for you. I know you didn’t know her very long, but I can assure you, Rosen, she was a very jealous woman. She wouldn’t have liked sharing you with your nurse.”

I broke. “If you ever so much as breathe in her direction, I’ll gut you like the fucking pig that you are.”

O’Keefe’s chuckle cut through the crackle resounding in my ears. “So valiant.”

“I’m not playing a game with you, O’Keefe. You want your deal—you leave her the fuck alone. Don’t so much as speak of her again, and I swear to God, if you have people following her, I’ll hunt you down and even your own mother won’t be able to identify you.”

He continued to laugh. “I’ll call to reschedule the meeting. Be ready.”

I opened my mouth, ready to spill more venom, but the call ended, leaving a hollow echo in my ear.

31

It took a solid ten minutes for my nerves to stop sizzling in the hotbed of anger that was left over from the exchange with O’Keefe. When it passed, it was like a riptide, sucked back to sea, all at once, leaving me empty and devoid of energy. I sank into my chair and forced my breathing back to normal. Once I decided I could carry on a conversation without sounding insane, I picked up my cell phone and dialed Gemma’s number, praying she’d be at a point in her day when she could answer.

The phone rang on, each ring dragging out longer than the last, as the silence between was filled with images of Talia hanging limp in the seat beside me in the cockpit of the plane. Only, instead of Talia’s face, it was Gemma’s. I drummed my fingers on the desk and then slammed my palm down when the phone kicked me to Gemma’s voicemail.

“This is Gemma Henderson, please leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Gemma—I—this is Aaron—shit—” I clicked off the call. What was I supposed to say? Watch out for evil henchmen hiding in black cars? In the bushes? Under your stairs? In your closet? Or, how about, hey Gemma, because you’re with me, you’re now the target of a crazy billionaire who may or may not try to kill you to get to me?