Wine, Tarts & Sex

Thirty-one

Two hours after the wiseguys had driven away from Liv’s, a man entered Ben’s office asking to speak to Leo. He was from Greeley Transport, he told Ben.

Leo smiled when the man from Greeley Transport was announced. “Show him in,” he promptly ordered, his gleeful tone unmistakable. Punching the Off button on his phone, Leo double-checked that all the lines were shut down before coming to his feet. Moving from behind his desk, he strode toward the door with the swagger of a victor.

He even shook the messenger’s hand as he entered his office.

Knowing Leo’s aversion to germs, Ben did a shocked double take before closing the door behind him. Racing to his desk, he delicately pushed down on the intercom button.

Dead air. Shit. This was top secret stuff.

He leaped for the door, pressed his ear to the burled pear wood, and strained to hear what was being said. The man from Greeley Transport might have been wearing a custom suit and handmade shoes, but he was no businessman unless killing people counted as a business.

“Your package is on the way,” the man said, reticent on the nature of the package.

“When can I expect delivery?”

"Tomorrow morning, first FedEx delivery. You can pick it up at the office.”

“You’re sure?” For a moment, Leo had doubts. Everything had been accomplished so swiftly.

“I’m not here for the hell of it.”

“No, of course not. Tell your employer I appreciate the excellent service.”

“The office-anytime after nine.”

The man in the custom suit turned, walked away, and opened the office door so quickly, Ben barely had time to jerk open the supply cabinet door and grab the first thing he saw.

“If you overheard anything, chump, I suggest you forget it,” Carmine’s messenger growled, his gaze flicking briefly to Ben’s white-knuckled grip on a printer cartridge. “I know where you work, and I can find out where you live. Capisce?”

“Yes, sir.” No way was he going to even attempt a lie. But whatever the man had told Leo-and he had a good idea-had made Leo real cheerful. He could hear him whistling from here.

In fact, Leo’s good cheer was so pronounced that when he called Ben into his office, he actually smiled and said, “You’re doing a good job. I just wanted you to know.”

Ben’s jaw literally dropped at both Leo’s smile and his astonishing praise. Recovering quickly, he said, “Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to work for you.”

“I’ll be out tomorrow morning. Cancel my appointments. And take the morning off yourself. All work and no play, young man-you lose your edge,” Leo jovially announced with a wave of his hand. “And make an appointment with Dan Wygren for late afternoon. I’ll go to his place. Make it five o’clock.” Reaching over, Leo flicked his phone on, leaned back in his chair and, quietly humming under his breath, looked up at Ben as though he’d suddenly become a stranger.

Ben knew that cold, blank look; he backed out of Leo’s office.

Leo hardly noticed. He was busy calculating the money he’d saved by having Carmine appropriate the flash drive. As if he’d even consider giving that bitch fifty million dollars, he resentfully thought. Or think of giving up his son. Janie Tabor, soap opera diva, didn’t have a clue who she was dealing with. He smiled evilly. She’d find out soon enough.

The minute he picked up his package with the flash drive, he’d let her know how a professional played the game. Take no prisoners. That’s how a winner won. She wouldn’t know what hit her by the time he was finished with her.

As for the information stored on the flash drive, he and Dan would decide tomorrow afternoon how best to cover his tracks. This near disaster had forced him to contemplate some worst-case scenarios, and he didn’t like the risk exposure. They would have to strategize on better options to screen or launder his financial assets. Safer alternatives that didn’t pose the possibility of jail time.

But right now he felt like celebrating. Punching his direct line to Hannah, he exuberantly said, “Cancel your meetings, baby. I’m taking you out on my yacht.”

His exhilaration was so out of character, Hannah experienced a thrill of excitement as she set down the phone. Would she have her engagement ring by the end of the day? Was all her planning and hard work finally going to pay off?

Dare she call him back and ask the reason for his good spirits?

Could she call Ben and ask him?

Would he answer her if she asked?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She hit the speed dial for Ben.

When he picked up, she purred, “Dear Ben, would you happen to know why Leo is in such high spirits?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I did.” Hannah Reiss was the reason the word unscrupulous had been invented.

“You shit,” she snapped. “Once I’m engaged to Leo, I’ll have you fired!”

“I’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re not engaged yet.”

She slammed down the phone.

Ben didn’t care. Right now, Hannah Reiss was the least of his problems. Should he rethink his sell order with Cal? Did he have to buy everything back? Was Leo going to come out of this on top again? Scowling, Ben began drumming his fingers on his desktop. Everything might still be in flux. Crap. What should he do?