Chapter Eleven
No messages waitedfor Elizabeth when she turned her phone back on after landing in Seattle. Alexander would be in meetings, but a part of her had hoped for something…anything to break through the dark clouds that consumedher.
Despite the rain, once she’d checked into her hotel, she tugged on her running clothes. The exercise would clear her head. Three miles from her hotel, a silver Mercedes sped past, and a torrent of dirty water splattered her from head to toe. She stopped, chest heaving, hands braced on her thighs. Grit coated her lips. “Screw it,” she muttered as she turned around. On her way back to the hotel, her thoughts wandered. Where were her parents today? At the office downtown? The Athletic Club? What aboutDarren?
Please don’t let me run intothem.
After a shower, she opened up her email to find a message fromAlexander.
Elizabeth, please meet my personal shopper, Marjorie. Feel free to tell her exactly what you do and don’t like. You’ll need to be measured by tomorrow, so Marjorie found a seamstress in Seattle who can see you at your convenience. Once you choose a dress, I will pick some understated jewelry for you to wear. Nothing flashy, I promise. -Alexander
Elizabeth and Marjorie exchanged several messages, and before long, a dozen photos from Donna Karan, Yves St. Laurent, and Jason Wu splashed across her screen. Online shopping distracted her until her phone’s alarm warned her she had to leave for her appointment with Clancy. Seconds before she grasped the laptop’s lid, her emaildinged.
I have one meeting left for the day, and I wish that I had a photo of your lovely face. Quite honestly, I wish I had a photo of you as you were the other night. Where will you be at 10 p.m. my time? If you’re free, will you ring me? I’d like to hear your voice. -A
The memories of what he’d done to her warmed her deep inside. They’d never had that discussion about BDSM he’d promised before his squash game, and she had so many questions. If her lawyer didn’t confirm her worst fears, maybe they’d finally get a chance to have that talktonight.
“Hello, Miss Bennett. It’s been some time.” The old, wizened lawyer greeted her warmly and shook her hand. Clancy Poon had been her family’s lawyer for more than thirty years. His hair had thinned since she’d last seen him, but his smile was as kind and his handshake as strong as ever. “I have to admit I was surprised to receive your package. You’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a jam, haven’tyou?”
“Yes,” she said, taking the chair he offered her. The sweet scent of old cigars reminded her of her grandfather. Elizabeth stared out his top floor window to the rain falling on Puget Sound. “I need to know what I shoulddo.”
“Well, you start by explaining the whole situation to me. That and paying my retainer. I have reciprocity in Massachusetts, so if you don’t want to find a lawyer who’s local to you, I can handle your case. Though you’d be on the hook for my travel costs.” The old lawyer’s hazel eyes sharpened. Kindness he had in spades, but deep down, he was still alawyer.
“I called a dozen firms in Boston. None of them would take my case. Carter, Pastack, and Hayes is a major force in the city. I have...a resource that I could probably call on now to find me someone who wasn’t affiliated with them, but I really don’t want to go there if I don’t haveto.”
“Oh?”
Her cheeks warmed. “I’m dating someone with connections. But it’s new, and it’s complicated, particularly since his company is one of CPH’s clients.” Elizabeth withdrew her checkbook. “Three thousand?” she said over the lump in herthroat.
“Is that aproblem?”
“N-no,” she lied and then handed over thecheck.
Clancy stared at her with an astute gaze unhindered by his advanced years.“You’ve been accused of leaking sensitive financial data. The repercussions could be devastating if you’re foundguilty.”
“I didn’t leak anything,” she said firmly, though inside, her resolve, her strength, even her will to remain upright crumbled intodust.
Clancy folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward. “Start from thebeginning.”
Once Clancy’s secretary had brought them both mugs of tea, Elizabeth recounted her firing, her conversation with the Red Sox, and finally, her suspicions. “The firm saved face by blaming and firing me. Probably gave the clients back their money. The USB drive I sent you contains partial tax records for the Boston Red Sox I found on my laptop. The assistant to one of the owners of the Red Sox tracked me down and I...I got copies of the files they received from CPH. The numbers don’t match. I think CPH is embezzling from their clients, and they fired me to keep itquiet.”
“But you have no proof that’s admissible in court. No official copies of what you turned in to your employers, no one else who can corroborate your information,” Clancysaid.
Her heart sank. “No. It’s my word against theirs. And now…they can prove—at least to a judge who doesn’t know the whole story—that I broke my confidentialityclause.”
Clancy scribbled on his notepad, the chicken scratch barely legible. “How? What proof do theyhave?”
“They had me followed.” Elizabeth clenched her hands on her thighs while she told Clancy about the man outside her window and the photographer at Boston Common. “They’ve seen me with Alexander Fairhaven. His company is one of their largestclients.”
“Fairhaven?” Now Clancy’s eyes narrowed. “What were you doing with him if not violating youragreement?”
Setting the tea aside, Elizabeth unbuttoned her suit jacket. The temperature in the room must have jumped ten degrees in a few seconds. Or her cheeks were on fire. “We’re…dating. Though once I tell him about all of this, I don’t think he’ll want to continue therelationship.”
With a whistle, Clancy sat back in his chair. “I see two options, Elizabeth. You can either go to the federal prosecutor and accuse your former employers of a crime, in which case you’d be protected by whistleblower laws, or you can try tosettle.”
“What does that mean? That I’d beprotected?”
“The lawsuit against you would go away. The government takes tax fraud quite seriously, and they know that companies will often resort to extreme measures to stop employees from exposing them. What CPH is trying to do to you falls under that category. Given the enormity of the fraud, they’re going to come at you hard for the non-disclosure case to try to intimidate you. But once you accuse them of a crime, they can’t touch you—legally. Unfortunately, they can still try to ruin your reputation, and you’d be tied up with the court case for quite sometime.”
