Page 46 of Secret Admirer
A gold locket peeked from the open side pocket, halfway to the rug. He read the initials, NW. Nadia had described this perfectly, and, with a sick feeling, he held it to the light.
“Mr. Morgan,” Will said. "I hope I'm not bothering you?"
His mind raced. Was he wrong and it wasn’t jealousy in Rebecca? His collar felt tight as he wondered if this was some twisted joke. He set the phone on the dresser and put the device on speaker. “I meant it when I said you could call anytime. What's up?”
Rebecca walked back into the bedroom with two bottles of water and glasses in her hand. He quickly pocketed the locket, so she didn’t see it.
Will said, “I’m having a hard time finding cars to test my product on. I need working vehicles but ones no one will mind if they get destroyed.”
He met Rebecca’s gaze. Was she the woman with courage and integrity he thought, or had he been played? Did he need to protect himself from her? If he didn’t, he could be the biggest fool of all the Morgans, and his father would be laughing at him from the grave. He said, “You need old, functional cars. I’ll have my people on it.” He ended the call.
She handed him the bottle of water and a glass. “My father has about six cars that he lends out to people if they need a loaner for the day. I’m sure I can get them to wherever you need within the hour if time is of the essence.”
His mind raced to a solution--for the inventor, as well as a test to see what she might do. He’d give her a blank check. If the monetary figure was more than it needed to be then she was here to steal his money. Nadia’s necklace was warm in his pocket when he said, “I’ll write you a check, Rebecca, if you can send the cars to the lab. Let me know how much when you get back.”
He gave her a blank check with his signature. He’d never written one before but it was like handing over a loaded weapon. She took it without even glancing at it and tucked into her purse that he'd put back on the desk. She said, “Thank you.”
Hopefully he was wrong. His skin crawled and his heart whispered that he was doing the wrong thing, but instead he answered with a curt tone. “No problem.”
Would this be the last time for them together? He wrapped his arms around her. “Unpack a dress for later. We’ll have a few family members over to celebrate tonight.”
She hugged his hips, hooking her fingers in his belt loops as she asked, “How many is a few?”
His mouth tingled to have her again. He needed the taste of her on his lips to remember her sweetness. “Just my Italian family tonight. Lorenzo, Anthony, Gio, Kiwi and Aurelia. But any of them are welcome to bring a date.”
She opened her mouth to say something but he stopped her with a kiss. The bed was behind him. He needed Rebecca now more than anything else. If he didn’t have her, he might never again--she tasted better than vintage champagne he’d carelessly tossed aside. Rebecca was a treasure he wanted to keep--but if she was a thief?
Chapter 15
Rebecca, on the phone with her father, sat in a leather office chair and twirled around in the all-white office that had a view of the Miami skyline over the Intracoastal--Bart said this downstairs room was supposed to serve as her new office/study.
"I can have the cars driven over to the University of Miami within the hour," he said.
"Thanks, Dad." She leaned an elbow on her desk. “What should we do for dinner tomorrow?"
“Let's go to a restaurant. The Cuban place you and your friends like will be fine, but why aren’t you driving the check over yourself?”
“This is business and it should be that way so I’ll use the courier, and dinner is family” She trusted her dad to send working cars as requested and felt confident Bart would be pleased. “So I’ll text a confirmation, and get a check over to you for the cars right away. See you tomorrow.”
She’d done as promised and helped her dad as well. As she hung up the phone, the older housekeeper with pinched lips came into the study. "Did I hear you say that you need a courier? I am on my way to the bank for Mr. Morgan, so I can do that for you."
Rebecca ignored the anxiety a sudden visit from a stranger sent through her and nodded. Bart must trust his staff. "Sure. Let me fill this out." She wrote the number fast and put the check in an envelope she found in her fully stocked desk drawer, then addressed it to the garage.
She was not alone in this house. Not really. Not if Bart had servants. She handed over the check, happy to have handled this request to show Bart that she wasn't always an emotional basket-case. She regretted the fleeting jealousy of Nadia earlier. The poor woman had lost her necklace--an heirloom. Rebecca nodded at the maid, Leya, according to her nametag, and said, “Thank you very much. Make sure to have only William James sign for it, okay?”
The housekeeper put it in her small bag. "I will." She left.
As soon as Leya was gone, Rebecca leapt from her chair and rushed up the stairs. Hopefully Bart was still in his office next to the bedroom. She knocked.
“Come in,” he said.
She entered--he sat at his glass desk, and behind him she had a glimpse of his yacht docked right outside. What a life. She took a seat like she was one of his clients. “The housekeeper, Leya, offered to drop the check off at my father’s on the way to the bank. I just thought I’d tell you before she left in case you didn’t like that plan.”
He closed his laptop and got to his feet. Her gaze went up as he said, “She told me. You talked to your father about his cars?”
Her heart raced. She didn’t know why but she had goosebumps on her arms. She stood to join him as she said, “Yes. I offered six thousand, one thousand for each car. They run, but they aren’t fancy. I can personally guarantee they work great. I’ve tuned the engines myself.”
His eyes widened. “So little?”
