Chapter One
“Mr. Koubek?” a voice on the phone asked. “Ivo Koubek?”
Ivo blinked at the full use of his name. When was the last time he had heard it phrased in such a manner? Had he ever heard it phrased in such a manner? “Yes?”
“My name is Douglas Berkshire of Berkshire, Hammond, and Dwight. We’re a law firm in Man—”
“I know who you are,” Ivo said. He couldn’t think of anyone on the island of Manhattan who hadn’t heard of the prestigious law firm. They represented some of the biggest clients in the country. He just didn’t understand why they would be calling him. “How can I help you, Mr. Berkshire?”
“I have something I need to discuss with you, something of a delicate nature. Would it be possible for us to meet?”
Seriously? “Can’t you tell me what this is about over the phone?”
“It is a very private matter that I would prefer to discuss with you in person.” The man’s tone said he wouldn’t budge on this. “Would it be possible for us to meet?”
Ivo didn’t like the snippy tone, but his curiosity had been piqued. “I suppose.”
“Excellent,” the man replied in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Is two o’clock this afternoon agreeable?”
Ivo glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning now. He didn’t have to be at his shift at work until nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Where the man wanted to meet depended on when they met. “Where?”
“I would be more than happy to meet you anywhere you wish.”
Ivo winced as he looked at the disordered state of his apartment. Not only was the place the size of a shoebox, it wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods. It would not be his first choice of places to meet a complete stranger.
“Uh…”
“We can meet at my office in Manhattan if that would be more convenient for you,” Mr. Berkshire said. “I can send a car for you.”
“Really?” Ivo was astonished. Car service in the city was not cheap. One from his apartment in Brooklyn to Manhattan would cost more than Ivo’s monthly rent, but it sure beat riding the bus. “I mean, yes, I suppose that would be okay.”
“Thank you, Mr. Koubek. I will see you at two o’clock.”
“Okay.” Ivo hung up the phone and then just sat there and stared at it. He couldn’t figure out a single reason a fancy law firm would be contacting him. He hadn’t broken any laws that he knew of. He didn’t drive, so it wasn’t a traffic ticket issue. He didn’t own crap, so if someone was trying to sue him, they were out of luck.
Ivo sighed as he got up to go look for his only suit. If he was going to be meeting with one of the top lawyers in the city, he refused to do it dressed in a T-shirt and ripped jeans. His mother had taught him better than that.
By the time the car arrived to take him to his meeting in Manhattan, Ivo was a bundle of nerves. For the life of him, he could not figure out why a fancy law firm would need to speak to him.
It wasn’t as if he had any long-lost relatives who were suddenly going to leave him a crapload of cash. He was an only child and both of his parents had been only children. Ivo had no idea about the rest of his family. His parents never talked about them.
They had come from the old country when he was just a baby. He didn’t even remember it. Everything he knew had happened in New York. Ivo still lived in the same apartment his parents moved into when they arrived in America. His entire life had revolved around the same six city blocks.
His parents had both passed away within moments of each other five years ago, leaving him alone in the world. Which made him go back to thinking someone wanted to sue him. Or maybe this had something to do with his parents. They weren’t known for having debt, which had been the one good thing to come out of their deaths. Ivo hadn’t been left owing a bunch of money after they died.
The driver was waiting for Ivo by the car when he came out of the apartment. The stiff-looking, muscled guy gave him a curt nod before opening the back door of a black Lincoln town car. Ivo kept his whistle low as he climbed into the back of the fancy vehicle. He had never been in something so swanky. He doubted he ever would again.
Ivo had to admit he enjoyed the ride to Manhattan. The back of the car contained a minibar, seats that smelled of rich leather, and even a sunroof. He ran his hand over the seat under him and swore it felt like soft butter as he stretched his legs out.
Ivo considered going for the liquor cabinet built into the partition separating him from the driver, but he figured attending the meeting half-sloshed wasn’t a good choice. He needed his wits about him. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, which was in one big knot.
By the time they pulled up in front of a very tall glass-and-concrete office building, that knot had grown bigger and tighter. Ivo was actually starting to feel kind of nauseated. The driver came around to the back of the car and opened his door.
Which was weird.
Ivo nodded to him as he climbed out.
“Have a good day, Mr. Koubek,” the man said as he touched the brim of his cap.
