Her Christmas Surprise. Kristin Hardy
to come clean, the better off your mother will be.”
And the sooner he could go back to his life, escape the morass that was already beginning to suck him in.
Abruptly, he rose. “Then I guess I’d better get on it,” he said, holding his hand out to Burton.
“You hear from Bradley, you let me know immediately,” the lawyer said as he walked them out.
“You know it.”
The carpet in the hallway outside Burton’s downtown Stamford offices was thick and plush underfoot, the color of the brandy Pierce had favored. Ahead, light streamed through the glass walls that surrounded the ten-floor atrium lobby.
“I just can’t believe it was Bradley,” Olivia said as they waited for the elevator. “She must have pushed him into it.”
She might have been involved, but Lex had a pretty good idea nobody pushed Bradley anywhere. There was one trait they’d both inherited from their father, his stubborn single-mindedness. It had fueled Lex’s rise to the top of a difficult and dangerous field. It had also helped Bradley take a controlling position in Alexander Technologies, the position that had let him get away with his crimes.
For a while.
“Mom,” Lex said gently, “no one made Bradley run.”
But if Keely Stafford had helped him, then she knew how to untangle this rat’s nest. And she damned well needed to start talking.
“Bradley doesn’t know what to do with the mess she’s gotten him into,” Olivia maintained, but her voice was uncertain.
“Have you ever, in your entire life, seen Bradley do anything he didn’t want to do?”
“He couldn’t have done this on his own. I won’t believe it.”
Translation: she didn’t want to.
She had to face it, though, or she’d never get past it. “No one made him gamble, Mom.” Lex kept his voice gentle. “You saw the statements from the pit bosses. Brad got in trouble, he wanted out, and he wasn’t too concerned about how.”
Abruptly, the starch went out of Olivia’s posture and for just a moment she sagged against the railing that looked down over the lobby. “What am I going to do?” she whispered. “They’re going to take it all. How could he do this? How could he leave me with nothing?”
And now she did cry. All he could do was gather her against him and stand there, helplessly patting her back. No. Not helpless, never helpless. There was a way to fix this and he would find it.
Starting with Keely Stafford.
“Are you sure you’re going to be all right here tonight?” Jeannie stood behind the counter at the flower shop, buttoning her coat.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Lydia coming in later to help.”
“The mistletoe for the novelty hangers is on the table.”
“I know. I was the one who put it there, remember? Now git.” Keely draped her mother’s scarf around her neck. “You’ve got a party to primp for. How else are you going to get to dissect the centerpieces if you’re not there?”
“What would make you think I’d do such a thing?” Jeannie asked.
Keely grinned. “I know you too well. Have a great time.” She kissed her mother’s cheek.
“Thank you again. And don’t spend the whole night working. Go out and watch the tree lighting. You should have some fun.”
“Out,” Keely ordered, pointing at the door.
“I’m going,” Jeannie said hastily.
Keely watched the door close behind her. In a while, Lydia would show up and their gab fest would begin. For now, Keely had the shop to herself. She breathed in air scented with roses, carnations, hyacinths, and remembered.
The shop had defined her life in so many ways. One minute, the Staffords had had money, country club memberships, prestige. The next, she’d found herself pitching in to help pay the bills, filling out reams of scholarship and loan applications to cover college. The long, hot, lazy summers she’d grown up with had been replaced by cool days in the shop, wearing the tailored black shirt and trousers that were the uniform at Jeannie’s.
Then Bradley had come through the door to buy a bouquet for his mother. And Keely had fallen as deeply into infatuation with him as she had at fourteen, when he’d been the star of the country-club tennis court and she’d prayed for him to ask her to play doubles with him.
Now, five years later, she was back at the florist shop, tying a ribbon on an arrangement of mums. All those years of study, the internships, the work at Briarson, blown apart by Bradley. She struggled to push down the surge of anger as she carried the vase into the glass-fronted, walk-in refrigerator that held orchids, roses, daylilies and the other exotics.
Behind her, a jingling signaled the entry of a customer. With a sigh of resignation, Keely turned.
Only to see Lex Alexander.
Suddenly, abruptly, the shop felt very small. And very empty. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t look around at any of the arrangements. Just headed straight for her.
Keely met him at the door to the refrigerator. The shallow space in front of the tiers of flowers was far too small for two. “Looking for some flowers?” she asked.
“Looking for you.”
He was taller than she’d realized the day before, topping her five ten so that she found herself staring at his chin. In defense, she raised her own. “I’m working.”
“The shop’s empty. We need to talk.”
His eyes were dark, turbulent as he stared down at her. She felt that same stir of awareness she had before. Her pulse thudded in her ears. He was too big, too strong. Too there. She took a breath and pushed past him. “I have things to do,” she said without turning.
“Fine. I’ll talk with you while you do them.”
Keely made a noise of frustration and walked to the counter. “I don’t see what we’ve got to talk about.”
“How about this little scheme you’ve got going with Bradley, for a start.”
She did look at him, then. “I don’t have any scheme going with Bradley.”
“The feds say you do.”
“The feds don’t have a shred of evidence.” Because there was none.
“They’ve got your name on the boards of some LLCs.”
“They’ve got your mother’s name on those boards, too,” she countered.
“Why do you think I’m here? I need to know what you know.”
“I don’t know anything. I already told you, I’m not a part of this. Bradley was on his own.” She walked into the back and told herself she wasn’t fleeing.
It didn’t matter. He followed her. “Oh, come on. You’re his fiancée, you’re an accountant. You know as well as I do he couldn’t figure this out alone.”
“Nice that you have such a high opinion of him.” She didn’t look at him, just picked up some scarlet-berried holly off the counter and jammed it into a small vase to get it out of the way. Lex still made her as uneasy as he had when she was a teen, only now it was overlaid with something else, a humming tension she didn’t want to think too much about.
“My opinion doesn’t matter,” Lex said. “What matters is that my mother could lose everything because of what he’s done. I need to get her out of this and to do that, I need you.”
Keely snatched up one of the branches of mistletoe that lay on the worktable and began snipping off sprigs. “What