Kay David - Obsession

As she approached Chris’s office, she knew there was another reason she didn’t want to bring up Kelman’s name. It was going to be hard enough to get through the meeting just talking about Raul. She wasn’t sure she could do it and not give away what had happened between them. She had to, though. There were no rules about sleeping with clients, but Emma wanted nothing of her private life to enter the realm of her professional one.

She knocked on the door to Chris’s private area, then opened the door.

Glancing up from the reports he’d been reading, Chris regarded Emma with a neutral expression.

She nodded toward his desk. “I see you got the news. The Santos account was funded last night.”

“I looked at it first thing this morning.” Tapping the file with his pen, he shook his head and sighed. In his fifties and balding, Christopher Evans did his job and did it well, but he was only passing time in Bolivia, just like everyone else. It wasn’t a place he’d aimed for, but circumstances had brought him here.

“I checked the account last night,” Emma said.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see the funds, but they were there when we came in.”

“We?”

She licked her lips. “I asked Mr. Santos to meet me last night so we could discuss the problem. He was positive the funds had arrived and insisted we stop by and check.” She held out her hands. “And he was right. They were there. Maybe there was a glitch in the system.”

He looked skeptical. “A glitch? I don’t think so.”

“I don’t, either,” she confessed. “But the money was there when we looked. I imagine our draw beat his deposit-that’s the only explanation.”

“The main thing is, it’s there now,” Chris answered. “And it’s a good account, Emma. Congratulations. You did well for the bank by landing it.”

The praise was unexpected, and Emma smiled, albeit nervously. “Thanks. I was glad to get it. The money will certainly come in handy.”

“I’m sure it will.” He paused. “But stay on top of it. That’s a pretty big balance. We don’t want to get involved in something sticky. Things are different here, but we still have rules. Make sure he fills out an F-Bar.”

The F-Bar was a report of Foreign Bank and Financial Account, and Chris’s reminder was purely routine. Any U.S. citizen holding more than ten thousand dollars in a foreign account had to file this report with the IRS. Hidden assets were something the feds didn’t care for-they couldn’t tax what they didn’t know about. Yet Emma’s pulse took an unexpected jump. If Chris felt he had to warn her about Raul’s account, what would he say about Kelman’s offer?

“I’ll keep an eye on it,” she answered thickly.

Making her way back to her office, Emma threw a glance at the vault as she passed by its stainless steel doors. Kelman’s briefcases were locked inside, but she knew they were there, like a snake waiting to strike.

She’d made plans to have lunch with Reina, so she worked until a little past two, then headed out, stopping at Felicity’s desk to explain where she was going. “I’ll be back in an hour. If Mr. Kelman comes by, tell him I won’t be gone long.”

Standing in the shade of a tobaruchi tree, Emma waited for Reina. The Japanese restaurant they were going to was nearby, and it was just as easy to walk as it was to catch a cab. Emma felt her mind go right back to the night before. Thoughts of Kelman and Raul, but mainly Raul, took turns driving her crazy. She prayed she wouldn’t slip and say anything to Reina. The other woman would go nuts if she knew what had happened. A minute later, Reina flew up the street, fanning herself and fluttering with apologies.

“I am so sorry.” Reina linked her arm through Emma’s and gave her a soulful look. “I had a client I just couldn’t get rid of, or I would have been here on time, I swear it. You aren’t mad at me, are you?”

With a start, Emma looked down at her watch. She hadn’t even realized until Reina spoke that she’d been waiting fifteen minutes.

“Oh, my God!” Reina squealed. “You didn’t even notice, did you? For once you would have thought I was on time, and I blew it.”

“You’re always late,” Emma answered, hoping Reina wouldn’t notice how flustered she was.

“What does it matter?”

Crossing the street, they dodged a scruffy dog and two children chasing it. “It doesn’t matter to me,” Reina said with a sidelong glance. “But it usually does to you.”

As they drew closer to the restaurant, the walkway became more crowded, and Emma acted as if she hadn’t heard her friend’s comment.

Reina had radar for Emma’s feelings, though, and she wouldn’t let the topic die. Pausing at the curb, they waited for a light, then started to cross a minute later. “What’s going on?” Reina asked as the crowd pressed in around them. “You’re upset about something. I can tell.”

Before Emma could answer, she felt a bump from behind, then an unexpected push against her side. “What the…” She sputtered an expletive and stumbled slightly, grabbing her purse a little closer as she did so. After regaining her balance, she turned to look over her shoulder to see if she could spot the culprit. Only strangers with blank and unfamiliar faces looked back, yet for one quick second, she thought she saw a flash of gleaming dark hair and even darker eyes. Raul?

Reina jerked around even faster. She’d felt the push, too. “¡Ten cuidado!” she cried. Take care! Cursing soundly, she grabbed Emma’s arm and bustled them to the other side of the boulevard. A few minutes later they made their way into the restaurant and collapsed on one of the padded cushions beside a low-legged table.

“These people!” Reina shook her head and gratefully accepted the cup of tea the waiter poured. “I can’t believe it. They’re incredibly rude. Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” Emma replied. And it was. She was actually quite relieved. The incident had taken Reina’s attention away from her question.

They placed their orders for shrimp tempura and the fresh sushi they both enjoyed, then Reina turned her relentless gaze to Emma as the waiter left. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

Emma should have realized Reina wouldn’t let the topic go. She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Even if she could tell her friend everything, she wouldn’t even know where to start. “I can’t.” She tried to soften her voice as she fibbed. “It’s business. And I really can’t discuss it.”

“Business I can understand. I thought it might be Raul Santos.”

Emma carefully reached for her teacup and took a sip. “Why would you think that?”

“Why? Gee, I don’t know, Emma. Maybe because the last time we talked I told you to stay away from him and you haven’t. And you’ve been avoiding me, too.”

“That’s not true! I’ve been swamped with this problem at work and-”

Reina stopped her explanation with a wave of her hand. “But you had time to go out with him last night.”

At Emma’s startled expression, Reina nodded smugly. “I have friends besides you, and they hang out at places like Michelangelo’s.” She leaned closer. “Are you crazy? What are you doing with that man, ¿chica? William Kelman told me he’s bad news.”

Just hearing Kelman’s name made Emma flinch. She tried to cover up. “And I told you I saw them fight. I hardly think Kelman’s a reliable source on this one, Reina.”

“Well, I think this is something you better verify,” her friend shot back. “And fast, before you get in over your head.”

Emma tensed and held her breath. “What do you mean?”

“Raul Santos just got out of prison, Emma. He was there for five years. For selling drugs.”

RAUL HANDED the Indian woman two bolivianos and told her to keep the change. It was twice what the iced drink cost, and her eyes widened at his generosity. She did what he said, though, and hurried down the street, quickly pushing her cart ahead of her as if worried he might change his mind. He hardly paid her any attention as she rattled around a nearby corner. He was focused on the restaurant across the street. Emma and her friend had gone in there a few minutes earlier.

He’d left Emma’s house-and her arms-early that morning. The wind had died during the night, and a heavy fog had moved in to replace it. As they’d stood on her porch, the mist had clung like diamonds to her hair.

He’d looked down into her heavy-lidded eyes and had one thought: What kind of son of a bitch was he? When she found out who he was and everything he’d done, she’d remember the way they’d made love-and she’d hate his guts. It wouldn’t be important to her that for just a few hours she’d given him back his life, that for just a little while, she’d made him feel like the man he used to be. Someone a woman like her could love, someone who’d dreamed of a family of his own and a life shared with others.

She’d know nothing of that.

She’d know only betrayal.

He cursed softly and shook his head. It’d been done. There was nothing he could take back, and in truth, he had only one regret-that it was over. If he closed his eyes right now, he was sure he could still feel the satin of her skin against his hands and the scent of her body as it’d heated in his arms. Cursing again, he tightened his jaw and forced such thoughts to the back of his mind. He’d just seen something more important than what had happened last night. He needed to concentrate on it, instead.

A man had bumped into Emma right in the middle of the street. In and of itself, that was nothing. Everyone walked everywhere in Santa Cruz, and the sidewalks were often crowded. But this man was not a simple stranger.

For a reason he couldn’t explain, Raul had left Emma’s house and gone straight to Kelman’s. The man who’d later stumbled into Emma had pulled out of the Las Palmas mansion driveway an hour after Raul had parked nearby. He’d driven directly to the bank and waited in the shade without moving until the minute Emma had left her office.