Scandal Never Sleeps (The Perfect Gentlemen 1)

like, the new celebrity. You bagged another PG. I can’t believe it. That’s legendary, you know. Are you going for the full set? That would be a coup.”

Thank goodness they’d made it to her office. She slipped inside, Scott right behind her, and thought seriously about never coming out again. “What are you talking about? Full set of what?”

Scott gave her a sad shake of his head as he shut the door behind them. “Perfect Gentlemen. You really need to read more. Gabriel Bond and his five best friends were called the Perfect Gentlemen at Creighton Academy.”

She didn’t need a history lesson. “I remember some negative campaign ads about Zack Hayes. They called him an imperfect gentleman, I guess in reference to his prep school gang.”

“I’m sure.” Scott rubbed his hands together, obviously warming to his subject. “Six of the most powerful men in America, and they’re childhood friends. They stick together. They all backed Hayes when he was running for president. Roman Calder even left his prestigious and very lucrative law firm to become Hayes’s campaign manager.”

“Well, I think Hayes repaid him by making him the White House chief of staff. None of this explains why you think I would pursue a ‘full set.’” Her desk was covered in mail. Where had it all come from?

He shrugged as he sat in the chair facing her desk. “Two very prominent actresses challenged one another last year. The first one who slept with all six got bragging rights and dibs on a major movie role that had Oscar written all over it. Rumor has it they both got Bond and Crawford. One of them screwed Roman Calder, while the other found her way into Captain Daxton Spencer’s bed at a USO show she gave for the troops. But neither one could get Sparks or Hayes. Sparks is only a rumor. He doesn’t really fit with the rest of them and he’s never seen with them, so I wonder if there are really only five.”

Sparks wasn’t a rumor. Maddox had mentioned him fondly, but she tried to stay on subject. “That’s horrible. Why would any woman think it’s a good idea to ‘collect’ them all?”

“Because they’re hot and to show you can,” Scott said suggestively. “You’ve already had two of them.”

“No, I haven’t.” The idea that people believed she was collecting bed partners made her ill.

He winced a little. “So the rumors about you and Crawford are untrue?”

She was so sick of that. Scott had never asked, but Everly wished they’d already crossed that bridge so she didn’t have to discuss it now. “I never slept with that man. We were friends. Is that so hard to believe?”

“No one imagined that Crawford had female friends.”

“He did. Look, I had no idea the man I left with on Friday night was some bad boy from Wall Street. If I had, I would have stayed away from him.”

Would she really? Would she have had the strength to refuse Gabriel?

It didn’t matter at this point because it was over. Tavia was right. In a few days, the rumors would die off and they would find someone else to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” Scott murmured, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were sleeping with the boss. You’re not that kind of person. I’m trying to take my mind off the fact that I struck out Friday night.” He sighed. “Rumor is that the new boss will be here tomorrow. I know everyone thinks the nonexecutive employees are safe, but I don’t buy it.”

“Tomorrow?” Wow, whoever the new CEO was, he wasn’t wasting time.

Scott nodded. “Yeah, though no one knows his name. The rumor is Crawford always intended to leave everything to some animal charity. Or his favorite hookers. So we’ll either be taken over by elderly cats or a woman covered in body glitter calling herself Crystal Clit. I’m hoping for the hooker. A couple of strategically placed stripper poles would liven up the place. But I’m betting on the charity because they’ve already sent in a man who’s interviewing some of the employees. Hot guy. He didn’t set my gaydar off, though. I think he plays for your team.” He hesitated. “Sorry if I upset you.”

Weariness dropped over her like a blanket. So much rumor and innuendo . . . And tomorrow she got to deal with the person or cat who would likely kill her career. “It’s all right, but I think I should get to work. If the executioner is coming, I need to be ready.”

Scott sighed and nodded, then headed for the door.

“Hey.” She couldn’t let him leave without knowing one thing.

“Yes?”

“So Gabriel Bond isn’t a nice man, is he?” He’d seemed nice. He’d seemed real.

Scott shrugged, his face softening with sympathy. “I don’t know that he’s mean. But he’s rich and I doubt he’s ever been refused anything in his life. He’s pretty much American royalty, and they don’t tend to give a crap about the little people, you know? You’re better off without him.”

His words detonated like a bomb inside her, destroying what small hope she’d had that Gabriel wouldn’t leave a dent in her heart. Scott departed, leaving her alone again. She had things to do anyway.

She pulled out the new external hard drive and plugged it in. She didn’t trust the Cloud services of the world. They were far too easy to hack into. And she should know; she’d done it. So she only backed up to external hard drives she could control.

With a few keystrokes, Everly started a complete system backup. Once she was sure her files were secure, she could run diagnostics and figure out why her system was running as if it was powered by a tired hamster.

As the task ran, she sat back. Tears pricked her eyes, but she took a deep breath to banish them. She’d made a mistake and she was going to forgive herself. After all, they’d just shared a fling—even if it had felt like more. Now it was over, and she’d learned the hard way to never look back. Always keep moving.

And she had to deal with mail. Somehow even knowing she was very likely to be let go, she couldn’t just leave this stack here. There were tons of invoices and interoffice memos. Despite the fact that Crawford was a high-tech company, they still used an awful lot of paper. She’d been trying to fix that.

She picked up a small padded envelope. No return address, though it was postmarked from DC. The package was addressed to her, the mailing label typed and taped securely on. She turned it over and opened it. Two things fell out, a camera and a handwritten note.

To Alice,

Drink me. Let’s go down the rabbit hole together.

Crap. She’d received a package from a weirdo.

Everly stared at the digital camera for a moment. It wasn’t an expensive model, more like the kind a mom might buy to put in her purse and take pictures of her kids at the park. These days, though, everyone used their phones. This was at least five years old.

Curious.

She turned it over to flip on the screen and see the pictures this new crazy had sent her. Damn. The screen was cracked, a perfect starburst of destruction right from the center, almost as if someone had destroyed the viewer on purpose. If she wanted to see whatever images the camera might have captured, she had only one option.

Everly opened the camera and located the micro SD card, flicking the lever that held it in. The little square that likely contained something super gross popped right out.

Drink me, the note had said.

Why the Alice in Wonderland reference? Alice had imbibed a potion that enabled her to go down the rabbit hole and enter Wonderland. If Everly viewed the contents of this card, where would it lead her?

She couldn’t help but think about the texts she’d received.

“If I get a virus from this, someone dies.” Everly shoved the card into the slot on the side of her laptop. The backup was running in the background, but she could still pull this information up.

A few hums later, the machine identified the card. Someone had named the little disc “red pill.”

Awesome. So the loon had mixed Alice metaphors with references from The Matrix. She frowned. In that movie, taking the red pill meant facing reality while the blue pill allowed a person to go back to their happy, completely false life. She clicked on the red pill, and her screen blinked, bringing up the menu. It appeared to be a series of pictures. All had been labeled with one date, nine days earlier.

The day before Maddox Crawford died.