Cross the Line (Boston Love Story #2) (24 page)

“Why, so you can ask her out?” I snort. “Fat chance.”

“We’ll find her.” Nate crosses the kitchen and grabs a set of car keys. “One way or another.”

“Yes!” Parker pumps a fist into the air. “Knew you’d have my back, bro.”

My eyes are suddenly a little too focused on Nate. “Don’t tell me you want to date her, too.”

Seriously, don’t tell me. I can’t handle it.

“Hardly.” He pulls on his leather jacket and meets my eyes, a playful light dancing in his irises that I’ve never seen before. “I want to hire her.”

***

“Where are we going?”

“WestTech.” Nate’s hands tighten around the steering wheel as we race past the Convention Center toward the financial district at well above the legal limit. “Your father is overdue for a visit.”

It’s getting dark outside — well past six o’clock — but we all know Milo is still at his office. He’s there till midnight, most nights.

“Fuck.” Parker glowers in the passenger seat. “The old man isn’t going to be thrilled to see me.”

“He’ll probably be a bit preoccupied with the twenty million dollar commission the Irish mob wants in exchange for not slaughtering his only family,” I point out. “I doubt he’ll have time to admonish you about your many failings.”

“He’s surprisingly good at multi-tasking,” Parker says darkly.

I roll my eyes and look out the window as the city blurs by. Maybe I’d feel more sympathy for him if, as soon as we left the loft, he hadn’t called, “Shotgun!” like we’re still adolescents and shoved me toward the back seat. Now, Boo and I are sitting in the back of Nate’s giant SUV, the kind with blacked-out windows I imagine Secret Service members use to escort the President. I would’ve preferred the Viper, but it’s a two-seater and Parker was surprisingly unenthusiastic about my suggestion that he squeeze into the trunk.

Go figure.

Twenty minutes later, Boo’s tugging his leash so hard, I’m practically running to keep up as we move through the lobby of a gleaming glass skyscraper in the heart of the South End, where the WestTech executive offices are housed. I nod to Bill, the security guard behind the front desk, when we reach him.

“Hi, Bill. Empty in here, tonight.” 

“Wednesdays – always quiet, Miss West.” He folds his newspaper and peers over the counter. “Hello, Boo.”

The little dog barks promptly at the sound of his name, sits in a perfect show of posture, and waits, his stare never wavering from Bill, his short tail wagging furiously.

Bill isn’t just my favorite lobby guy — he’s Boo’s, too. 

After a second, the aging security guard reaches beneath his desk and retrieves one of the mini milk bones he keeps there. It’s become a tradition of sorts, since the first time I brought Boo with me to work last year.

“Speak,” Bill commands, his kind eyes locked on my dog.

Two short barks erupt from Boo’s mouth.

“Paws.”

Tiny white paws shoot into the air, as the dog balances on his back feet.

“Lie down,” Bill says, nodding.

Boo’s front paws slide across the marble until he’s totally flat on the floor.

“Roll.”

Boo flips onto his back in one swift move.

“Good boy,” Bill says, smiling as he tosses the tiny bone into the air. Boo’s back on four paws as soon as it leaves his hand. He catches it before it hits the ground and devours it with glee at my feet.

Hell
. I buy him food, give him toys, take him out at midnight when he needs to pee, brush his coat until it’s shiny… and in return, the little demon uses my Manolos as chew toys, ignores my every command, and will barely walk straight for me on a leash. Put him in front of a virtual stranger with a milk bone, though, and he’ll do circus tricks.

I look from the dog to Bill, whose smile is as warm as his eyes.

“Brought some friends with you today, Miss West?” he inquires, looking at the men flanking my sides like bodyguards.

“Bill, come on now.” I shoot him a look. “It’s
Phoebe
and you know it.”

“Uh huh.” His mustache twitches when he smiles.

I shake my head, knowing he’ll never comply with my wishes. “This is my brother, Parker, and my…” I glance at Nate.
What is he?

Friend? Enemy? Alien?

“My acquaintance, Nathaniel Knox,” I finish.

Acquaintance
. See? I’m so diplomatic.

I can feel Nate staring at me; I studiously ignore him.

Bill nods politely in greeting.

“Is the old man in?” I ask, jerking my thumb toward the ceiling.

“Should be.”

“Cool.” I grin and waggle my fingers. “Bye, Bill.”

“Until next time, Miss West.”

We glide past the desk, I scan my company badge, and we head for the elevator bank. Boo follows grudgingly, casting adoring puppy-dog looks back at Bill on regular intervals. We’re almost there when a thought pops into my head and I turn back.

“Hey!” I call.

Bill looks up from his paper.

“Did Sadie have her puppies yet?”

He smiles, gray mustache twitching. “Sure did. Six little German Shepard runts, running around like miniature tornados. They’re driving my wife crazy.”

“I’ll bet.” I laugh.

“Any chance you want to take one off our hands?”

I glance down at Boo dubiously. “This little guy gives me enough trouble. But if I think of anyone in need of a fur-baby, I’ll send them your way!”

He nods and goes back to his paper.

The elevator doors slide open a second after I hit the button. When I turn, I find Parker and Nate both watching me, identical expressions on their faces.

“What?” I ask, walking inside.

“How long have you been friends with the lobby guy?” Parker asks under his breath. 

I shrug. “A few months. Why?”

“You always befriend total strangers and let them into your life without question?”

“No,” I lie. 

“Uh huh.” His hazel eyes, so similar to my own, move over my face. “And you wonder why you were so easy to kidnap?”

“That was totally different.”

“How?” Parker asks, finger jabbing into the
27
button.

“Cormack was an anomaly. I usually don’t trust just anyone off the street.”

Nate snorts and glances at Parker. “She splits her lunch with a homeless guy at the park every time she works from the office.”

I gasp. “How do you know that?!”

Nate ignores me. “She let two guys who live in the building next to hers use her kitchen last Thanksgiving, just ‘cause they said theirs wasn’t working.”

“They couldn’t cook their turkey!” My voice is defensive. “What was I supposed to do, let them starve on a national holiday?”

“She also made dinner for the guy fixing her cable last month, when the job took him longer than expected.” Nate shakes his head.

“That was
one
time,” I point out.

He makes a frustrated noise. “Frankly, it’s a miracle she hasn’t been kidnapped long before this.”

“Christ,” Parker mutters, looking up at the elevator ceiling as we ascend.

“How do you know all that?” I squeak, narrowing my eyes at Nate. “Have you been spying on me?”

He doesn’t answer. He just watches me with those steady brown eyes, and I can’t help but notice they’re crinkly and warm as they move over my face.

“You’re an odd duck, Sweet P.” Parker hooks one arm around my neck and pulls me in for a half-hug. “But I still love you.”

“Gee
, thanks
,” I mutter sarcastically. “I feel so cherished.”

My eyes catch Nate’s as the words leave my mouth and the sarcasm in them seems to float away.

He’s as far from me as possible, on the exact opposite side of the elevator, but as the moment stretches on, I hold my breath and marvel at the power of this man who can touch me so deeply without even using his hands.

The blush never leaves my cheeks the entire ride up to the twenty-seventh floor.

If I were a better man, I’d be able

to stop picturing her naked.

Nathaniel Knox, keeping his eyes

carefully averted at all times.

“Phoebe.”

Milo West rises from behind his desk as soon as I step through his office door. His salt-and-pepper hair is meticulously styled, his mouth is etched with frown lines from too many long nights at the office.

“You haven’t been answering my calls.”

I roll my eyes at his stern words, bending to let Boo off his leash so he’s free to roam the office. As soon as the latch unclips he’s off like a shot, smelling every piece of furniture on the 27
th
floor.

“Yeah, well, it’s been kind of hard to keep in touch, ever since a mobster chucked my iPhone into the Atlantic.”

His face pales a little. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the words die in his throat as Nate and Parker step through the entryway behind me. I shuffle awkwardly into his hyper-organized domain to give them some room. The CEO suite is all white and glass — so sterile just stepping foot inside makes me feel like a bull in a china shop, liable to break something without even trying.

“Parker.” There’s surprise in my father’s voice — a rare emotion from him. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Dad.” Parker shoves his hands in his pockets and surveys the space, whistling under his breath. “Nice office. This
Wolf of Wall Street
act must be paying off.”

“And what act are you playing?” Milo asks coldly. “The ungrateful son? The whore-mongering wastrel?”

A long-buried ache stirs in my chest, seeing the two of them at odds. I can’t remember the last time they were in the same room.

Parker’s hands fist inside his pockets and a chilling smile crosses his lips. “Don’t hold back to spare my feelings.” He scoffs. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“Oh, believe me—”

“Believe you?
You
?!” Parker laughs, but it sounds almost like a snarl. “That’s rich, Pop.”

“You’re just as disrespectful as I remember. I should—”

“Mr. West,” Nate cuts in before the situation can escalate to bloodshed. “We’re here to talk about Keegan MacDonough.”

The power of that name alone makes everyone fall silent.

Dad’s eyes move to Nate for the first time since we arrived. I can see the wheels turning in his mind as he tries to come up with a name to match the face of his children’s closest childhood friend, a boy who spent more days at our Nantucket estate than he ever did. A name a normal parent could recall within nanoseconds.

“Nathaniel,” Milo says finally, a smug smile playing at his mouth when he finally pulls the name from his memory banks. “Nathaniel Knox.”

Nate nods tightly.

“I had lunch with your father a few weeks ago.”

Nate says nothing.

Milo’s eyes narrow. “He didn’t mention you still lived in the area.”

“He doesn’t know.” Tension stiffens Nate’s shoulders. “We don’t keep in touch.”

My heart falters at that information and a pang of sympathy shoots through me. Nate’s never been close to his family — his relationship with his father makes Milo and Parker’s bond look like an ad for Hallmark — but I’m surprised to hear he’s cut them out of his life completely.

The three men stare at each other, a trifecta of tension. It’s so awkward, I’d like nothing more than to edge slowly backward out of the room and make a run for it. Unfortunately, that’s not an option.

Clearing my throat, I step into the middle of the office.

“Enough. You’re all acting like babies.” I turn to address my father first. “I’m sure you already know the basics but, to recap — three days ago I was kidnapped by some seriously scary dudes who have a bone to pick with you. Personally, I would really not like to repeat the experience. One black eye is enough for a lifetime.”

His face softens as he stares at the fading bruise beneath my eye makeup. “I didn’t think they’d come after you. I’m sorry, Phoebe. Truly.”

Parker scoffs. “Sorry doesn’t mean shit when your daughter’s been kidnapped and beaten.”

“Parker,” I admonish. “Blaming Dad won’t help things.”

“Why not?” he asks. “It’s his fault.”

“Parker. Not the time.” Nate’s voice is gruff enough that my brother falls silent. When he turns those dark eyes on my father, the older man shrinks back at the intensity in them.

I’ve been on the receiving end of that same stare more often than I’d like — I know exactly how Dad feels, at the moment.

“Care to share how you’ve managed to piss off the entire Irish mob?” Nate’s words are clipped, totally controlled. Not an ounce of emotion slips out. “Mac made you his business for a reason.”

My father tugs at his collar in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. When he collapses back into his leather swivel chair a few moments later, I just about fall over.

Milo West, showing weakness? Unheard of.

“I’ve made some mistakes,” he admits, voice choked.

Parker laughs darkly. “Understatement.”

I glare at him.

“Why does Mac expect a commission from you?” Nate asks, pinning my father to the spot with just the force of his stare.

“I don’t know.” Dad’s face is flushed. “My development project has nothing to do with him. He doesn’t own the land.”

“Not in name, maybe.” Nate folds his arms across his chest. “But that whole area is Bunker Hill gang territory. Everyone knows that. It’s the reason the waterfront has never been developed. No one will touch Mac’s land with a ten foot pole.” 

“Until now,” I add softly.

“Only way a deal like that goes through is if there’s some kind of arrangement in place,” Nate says in a deadly soft voice. There’s more danger in that gentle tone than I could muster screaming at the top of my voice.

When Nate yells, you know he’s pissed… but when he whispers, you run and don’t look back.

Milo shifts uncomfortably. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Nathaniel?”

Nate’s eyes have a lethal gleam as he steps closer to the desk. “You got into bed with MacDonough.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but my father pales even more. “No,” he whispers, though it’s a weak denial.

“I’ve been looking into things. Every building constructed in that part of town in the last twenty years without Mac’s blessing has either been burned to the ground, vandalized beyond repair, or run out of business because people are too afraid to go near there.” Nate’s gaze never wavers. “You’re a smart man, Mr. West. You’d never have poured so much money into this development project unless you had assurances that he wouldn’t give you problems.”

“Christ,” Parker mutters from somewhere behind me. “Perfect. Fucking perfect.”

“How much did you give Mac?” Nate asks flatly.

My father sits there silently, too proud to lie and too weak too admit the truth out loud.

“Oh my god, Dad.” I stare at him. He won’t meet my eyes. “Tell me you didn’t do this. Tell me this is some kind of mistake.”

He swallows, staring resolutely at his desk. “I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”

“What? You thought if you made a deal with the head of Boston’s biggest crime family, things would go
well
for you?” Parker’s voice is incredulous. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What did you promise him?” Nate’s voice is colder than I’ve ever heard it.

A defeated sigh moves through my father.

My father.

The idealist. The self-made billionaire. The prince of the people. The philanthropist. The entrepreneur who truly
cares
about the fate of his fellow man.

What a load of horseshit.

God, I’m a fool for ever believing in him.

“If you care about your children, tell me.” Nate’s hands come down on my father’s desk with a sharp smack. Milo jumps at the sound. “I can’t protect them if I don’t know what I’m up against.”

Dad’s eyes lift straight to me. They move over my face, no doubt reading the horror, confusion, and disappointment etched into my expression, and I see something inside him crumble.

“He wanted ten percent of the land value, plus interest, over the next ten years.” I’ve never seen my father cowed before, but that’s exactly how he looks right now as he lays out the terms of his deal. Utterly defeated. “It was a good deal. Fair. With the amount of revenue the new condos would bring in…” He swallows. “I’d still walk away with well over my bottom line.”

Money. This was about
money
.

Nausea churns in my stomach. I feel Boo settle at my feet, perhaps sensing I need moral support.

“But then…” Milo drifts off.

“He changed the terms,” Nate guesses. “Wanted more.”

“Twenty million, on top of the millions I’d already paid him for access to the land.” A spark of anger shoots through my father’s eyes — a flicker of the uncompromising CEO that’s built an empire on trade agreements and business mergers. “He tried to con me.”

“That’s what criminals do, Dad,” I snap, voice shaking. “They extort and cheat and bribe and
kidnap people
when they don’t get their way.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes dropping back to his desk. “You’ll never know how sorry I am. If I knew how to fix it…”

“Pay him,” Parker says, all playfulness stripped from his tone. “Pay him the fucking money or I swear to god, I will kill you myself for putting a target on my baby sister’s back.”

“He can’t,” Nate says, eyes alert as they watch my father. “It’s not that simple.”

Dad jerks his chin in response.

“What?” I gasp. “
Why
?”

“He’ll just keep asking for more, don’t you understand?” My father’s voice is shaking. “It’ll never be enough. Ten million, twenty million, fifty… it won’t end. He won’t stop. Not until we’re bankrupt and the company’s gone under. He’ll take everything.”

“Pull out of the project,” I say immediately. “We haven’t even broken ground yet.”

“I’ve sunk millions into this development.” His hands find his temples and he suddenly looks every bit his age. For the first time, my father looks
old
. “I can’t just pull out now. And—”

“And money is more important than your family?” Parker snarls. “Guess that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise.”

“Dad.” My voice breaks. “Please.”

His eyes lift to mine and this time, they’re red and watery with unshed tears.

Holy frack.

I’ve
never
seen my father cry.

Not once.

Not when Parker took off. Not at my graduation from MIT. Not when the crash of ’08 made stocks plummet. Not even the day we found my mother, or when we lowered her casket into the earth.

But he’s crying now.

I wish that somehow made all of this okay.

Nate turns his head to look at me. “Even if your father pulled out of the development, Mac won’t let him walk away — not now that he’s got his claws in him. He sees your father as a cash cow, his personal piggy bank to fund the mob. He’s not going to give that up. Not easily.”

“So…” I swallow. “He’ll keep coming after us until he gets what he wants?”

Nate’s jaw clenches tight. “Yes.”

“What about the police?”

“No police.” Nate’s words are clipped. “Can’t be trusted.”

“The FBI then.”

His eyes cut from me to my father, a knowing look in their depths. “I’m guessing if your father admits what he knows about Mac, it’ll incriminate him, too.”

Parker snorts. “Great. Fucking perfect.”

My stomach clenches. I hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t considered the possibility that my father’s corruption might extend past shady bribes and business deals to actual criminal activity. Fraud. Extortion. Collusion.

White-collar crimes that could land him in federal prison.

“So we can’t do anything.” My words are shaky and so soft they barely make it past my lips.

My father’s head drops into his hands. A sob rattles his chest.

I take a half-step then freeze, torn between wanting to comfort him and wanting to strangle him for doing this to our family. Parker steps to my side and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Sweet P. We’ll fix it.”

“How?”

“First, by putting you on the jet and flying you as far from here as possible,” Nate says, barely containing his anger. “I want you out of this city until this is over.”

My spine stiffens. “I’m not leaving. My family needs me.”

“You’re leaving.”

“No. I’m. Not.” I grit the words out between clenched teeth.

Nate stares at me for a long moment, then shifts his eyes to Parker. “Call the airport. Tell them you both leave tomorrow morning, first thing.”