Always Mine (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 1) (21 page)

After they hung up, Asher dropped the phone into his trouser pocket and continued to look over the dark city. He’d worked insane hours for as long as he could remember to make B&H the success it was. It was all that had mattered. If he was guilty and went public with it, he would be risking it all to save Emily.

It wasn’t something he needed to think twice about. As soon as he had his answers he would go to her and do whatever needed to be done to make it right.

A throat cleared, and Asher spun on his heel at the sound. A beautiful redhead in a silk business suit was seated at his desk. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”

She took out a black card with white print and pushed it across his desk toward him. Asher picked the card up. All it had on it was a phone number. “Dominic Corisi sent me.”

Asher threw the card down and barked, “Tell him I have too much on my plate right now to get involved in anything else.”

The woman tapped her polished nails on the top of his desk. “Didn’t your mother teach you to never turn down an offer until you know what it is?”

“I’m not interested. Now get out.”

The woman crossed her legs and gave him a head-to-toe assessment. “I wouldn’t throw me out yet. The AFT is still investigating your girlfriend. You’re not any closer to finding out if the fire in Welchton was arson, and I’m probably your only hope if you want the truth. That is what you want, isn’t it? To know what really happened?”

Asher put two hands on his desk and growled, “Do you have information about the fire?”

The redhead stood. “I have information about everything, and what I don’t know, I can find out in twenty-four hours. But before I look into this for you, I need to ask you something. Do you really want the truth? It may not be what you want to hear.”

“Of course I want the fucking truth, but how do I know if I should believe anything you say?”

The woman smiled. “Call Dominic. He sent me. I’m the person he goes to when he needs information. You don’t need my name, but you should keep my card.” She walked around the desk and paused by a package Asher had forgotten was still on one of his shelves. She traced the return address with one of her nails. “And if you really are seeking the truth, you’ll want to read this.”

Asher frowned. “That’s a gift from my cousins. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fire.”

“I never said it would.” The woman walked to the door. “You’ll have a flash drive on your desk tomorrow evening. The password will be the name of your second grade teacher. Dominic doesn’t ask me to look after very many people, so you should consider yourself lucky.”

Asher followed the woman out the door of his office and past Ryan’s desk. Both should have been high-security areas. “Hey, how did you get past my security?”

She rolled her eyes skyward and said, “Call the number on the card. Ask for Marc Stone. He’ll have a report and some suggestions for you.” Then she walked out of Ryan’s office. Asher called downstairs and told his security officers to make sure she left the building. They weren’t happy someone had gotten by them.

He called Dominic and asked him if he’d sent anyone over to see him. Dominic confirmed that he had, but he also gave him a warning similar to the one the redhead had. “There’s always a risk when using Alethea.”

“What kind of risk?”

“She’s too good at what she does. Once she starts digging she can’t stop. You will never have a secret again. But she’ll get the truth for you.”

Asher slept fitfully on the couch in his office. When he woke, he went back to his apartment to shower and change. He spent the day interviewing more of his employees, but no one, not even Hearne was cracking. When he returned to his office there was a flash drive on his desk just as the woman had said there would be.

Out of caution, he pulled a laptop out of a cabinet. He knew enough about computer viruses to not expose his server with whatever was on the flash drive. While he waited for the laptop to download, he poured himself a shot of whiskey. Whatever the truth was, Emily and her safety were what mattered.

‡

“C
ome to Boston
with me,” Celeste said between bites of pizza.

Emily took one bite then placed her slice back on her paper plate. “You heard the insurance adjuster. He said I shouldn’t leave until the investigation is complete.”

Celeste stood, walked to the refrigerator in the guest house, and took out a bottled water. “Want one?” Emily shook her head, but Celeste placed one in front of her anyway. “Your lawyer said you could go anywhere you want to. The official investigation is complete. What they’re doing now is a witch-hunt. They don’t want to pay you, and they’re trying to find a reason not to.”

Emily pushed her plate away. “I don’t even care about the money.”

Celeste took a swig of her water and said, “Great, then give it to me. Along with all of your mother’s paintings and your sculptures. Due to all the exposure on the news, your artwork is probably worth more now. Maybe I’ll take that trip to Hawaii I’ve been putting off. Or buy a bigger condo.”

Emily glared at Celeste. “That’s not funny.”

Celeste stood up. “No, it’s not, but I’m sick of this pity party. You can’t stay here, stare at the past all day long, and convince yourself you’re going to lose your mind. You know what, this sucks. You’re right. You lost something you loved, but it was a building, Em. It was wood and plaster and wires that rodents apparently found delicious. You can’t spend the rest of your life mourning it.”

Emily stood and threw her hands up in the air. “It was more than a building. It was my dream.”

“It was your mother’s dream, and you wanted to make it a reality. Open your eyes. The building burning was probably the best thing that could have happened. The town you remember is gone. You were holding on to a dream that couldn’t have happened here anyway. You are an amazing person, Em, and I love you, but I can’t fight this battle for you. I can’t make you want to stand up and try again.” Celeste’s eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked. “And it scares me because I can’t stay, but I can’t leave you here, either. So, what are we going to do?”

Emily walked over and hugged her friend. Seeing herself through her friend’s eyes was not easy, but there was comfort in the numbness that had shrouded her since the fire. Starting over would mean facing not only what had happened to her, but what she had done and how she felt. Celeste had left Welchton and had made a new life for herself.
I can be brave like that. I can pick myself up and start over.
“Celeste, I blamed Asher and his family. I said awful things to them. How do I face any of them again?”

Celeste hugged her tightly. “What would you tell me to do if I were you?”

Emily walked over and took a long drink of water before answering. “I’d tell you to suck it up, get your ass back to Boston, and say whatever you need to say to get your collection back. Then I’d remind you that a museum is about the work inside it, not the location of it.”

Celeste raised her water bottle in a toast. “That’s the Emily I know.”

The water bottle in Emily’s hand was shaking so much she put it down. “I have to go back.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I really believed the Barringtons were guilty. And Asher. What does it say about me that I slept with a man I thought was capable of this?”

Celeste made a face. “I am not for Asher or against him. I believe he cares about you, but a relationship takes two, Em. I’ve known you a long time. You’re not paranoid. If you doubted him, he gave you reason to.”

Emily thought about how he’d left her in Paris and all the things he’d said that had made a damning argument against him when her trust had been tested. She missed him, but she didn’t see a way back to him. “I don’t even know what I would say if I saw him again.”

“Give yourself time. You’ll figure it out. Until then, what do you want to do?”

Emily squared her shoulders. “My lawyer said he could get me a draw check, something to tide me over until the insurance company settles the claim. What do you think about me putting my stuff in storage and traveling a little bit? Maybe you’re right; this isn’t where I belong anymore.”

“You don’t have to decide today.”

“I don’t want to be this sad any longer, Celeste. There’s nothing here for me anymore. You saw the truth, but I didn’t want to. I can’t rebuild. What would be the point? Who wants to drive an hour through a ghost town to visit a museum filled with artwork from two unknown artists?”

“If you start whining again I will pour this water over your head.”

Emily held up a hand in mock defense. “No need. I’m not complaining; I’m assessing the obstacles in my way. The Harris Tactile Museum will happen, but not here.” She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I wonder if B&H still wants the land. I’ll have my lawyer look into it.”

Celeste’s jaw dropped open. “You’d sell it to them? What about the guest house?”

“My grandfather built it for his wife, and he’s with her now. He wouldn’t want it to hold me back. If I sell, I can use the money to buy a new place or rent somewhere.” Emily walked over to the window and looked out at the blackened remains. “This dream didn’t happen, but it can make the next one possible. My mother would approve. She was not a quitter.”

And neither am I. Neither am I.

The next day,
Asher stood behind his office desk and stretched. It had been one hell of a week, but he’d made progress in the areas he’d needed to. Thanks to Alethea, Asher had evidence that the cause of the fire was a wire that had been chewed through by a rodent who had built a nest inside one of the walls. He also had a photo of the insurance investigator kissing a woman who was not his wife. That photo had been in a file labeled “additional motivational material if necessary.” Blackmail hadn’t been necessary; Asher’s lawyers had taken the evidence the fire marshal had submitted and brought it to the attention of the insurance company again. In case they had missed it.

With that done, Asher was free to turn his attention back to the more complicated issue of getting Emily to speak to him again. He’d received an email from her lawyer that she wanted to sell to B&H. He’d immediately tried to call her, but his call went to voice mail. He considered flying there and forcing her to see him, but he’d spent a lot of time thinking about why she’d believed the worst of him.

Because I’ve shown my worst to her.

He wanted to earn her trust this time. His father had told him she didn’t need a hammer, and he’d been right. Emily had dreams of her own and deserved to be with a man who supported them. He’d never imagined himself with a wife or family, but the idea of never waking beside Emily again was unacceptable.

Dominic had moved from the world Asher was in to a place he said allowed him to look himself in the mirror each day. Seeing him in action inspired Asher to reevaluate his plan for what came after Trundaie. He’d bring Bennett Stone stateside and do a better job of patrolling how B&H’s policies were implemented. He hadn’t been guilty of Emily’s fire, but he could have been, and that wasn’t what he wanted for himself or his company.

Ryan beeped in via the intercom. “Your uncles are here.”

“Who?”

“Alessandro and Victor Andrade. They said they have an appointment.”

“Send them in.”

Two older Italian men entered. One with a big smile, one with a more reserved expression. Asher knew them only from photos, old photos his mother took out around the holidays. Asher closed the door in the face of a curious Ryan. “Gentlemen, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison and sat down.

Asher leaned back against the front of his desk. “You do realize we’re not related.”

Alessandro said, “Your mother’s sister married our oldest brother.”

Asher nodded. “Exactly.”

Victor said, “By my definition, that’s family.”

Asher folded his arms across his chest. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”

“Victor, doesn’t he remind you of Gio?”

“Gio? No. He’s Max. Look at the nose.”

Asher raised a hand. “Was there something you wanted?”

Alessandro waved his hands as he spoke. “Your brother Lance has come to some of our family’s events, but not you. How can we change that?”

Asher rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired, hungry, and desperately missing Emily. He wasn’t in the mood to pander to self-labeled family, not while he was still smoothing things over with his real one. “I wish I had more time, but I have somewhere I need to be.”
It’s called anywhere but here.

Victor looked around the office before meeting Asher’s gaze. “The older Alessandro and I get, the more sentimental we become. To an Andrade, family is everything.”

Asher straightened. “I’m a Barrington.”

Alessandro smiled. “You’re right, Victor. He has a lot of Max in him.”

Victor leaned forward. “Family isn’t defined by blood alone. I sent Dominic to see you because he understands that. And I don’t want to push, but a little gratitude would be appropriate.”

Instead of thanking him, Asher asked, “Why the hell do you care what happens to me? You didn’t care about my father.”