Waves of Deceit
Chapter 1
SHELBY STUDIED THE GRANTHAM INDUSTRIES building up the street, an icon on the San Francisco skyline. What would her little-girl self—her hungry little-girl self—have thought if she’d known her absent father owned entire buildings? That reclusive Charles Grantham, with his fancy homes and cars, had a daughter running around shoeless and in threadbare clothing? If construction on the new skyscraper hadn’t already begun ten years ago, when the man had claimed his parental rights over her, Shelby might have thought he’d built it here just to ruin one of her favorite cities.
But no. That might imply he cared enough to make an effort to irritate her.
Turning her back on the Grantham Industries structure, she closed her eyes and pulled a memory from last year’s visit. San Francisco had produced a warmer than usual day, and she’d even gotten a little sunburn. Alan too. Shelby opened her eyes with a grin. For once, he’d agreed to go with her, and security had pitched a fit about the silver-haired head attorney and the boss’s daughter renting a tandem bicycle to ride in Golden Gate Park. She and Alan had ended a perfect day with hot fudge sundaes at Ghirardelli Square.
Since just before her sixteenth birthday, Alan had served as the closest thing she’d ever had to a father figure. In so many ways, he treated her like the daughter he’d never had. When she finally broke with Grantham Industries, she’d miss only him.
With a sigh, Shelby entered her destination, a coffee shop so crowded the door barely closed behind her. She inhaled the fragrances of coffee, baked goods, and chocolate. The place must be as good as she’d heard if it had drawn this large a crowd already.
Shelby pulled out her phone to check her calendar, her stomach uneasy. Only one more job to get through—and one last annual check-in at headquarters. She grimaced. One last opportunity for her father to shun her by not bothering to show his face or speak to her.
For ten years, he’d tried to control her life. To a point, he’d succeeded. But that was about to end. She looked forward to giving her notice.
Another clerk arrived. As the line split, Shelby scooted over to join one. So many people. She checked her phone again. No emails yet in response to the résumés she’d sent out. She’d have to get hold of a letter of recommendation soon. Her father would never write one, no matter how hard she’d worked for him. After she got the new assignment today from Alan, she’d have to ask him about writing her one.
“I’ll have a Love Potion hot chocolate.” A familiar male voice ripped Shelby right out of her worries. The man at the front of another line followed his request with an embarrassed chuckle. “I need all the help I can get today.”
Wade. As her past superimposed itself on her present, the air seemed to disappear from her lungs. Her traitorous feet took a step toward him. She forced herself to stop, stunned that after all this time she still wanted to go to him.
“Love Potion?” The clerk asked, giving him a quick, appreciative look over. “A big, handsome guy like you?” She gave him a flirty look.
Shelby took a step back and bumped into the guy behind her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. So what if other women came on to Wade? Why should Shelby care? He’d rejected her; she’d walked away. Yet, she continued to stare at him. The fit, tanned man at the front of the line no longer resembled the lurpy college freshman she’d taken under her wing eight years ago. She swallowed. Or even the tall letterman he’d become, who’d broken her heart four years later.
She hadn’t seen him since the day before graduation; she’d just left. Hadn’t even walked with her class. She took another step back. What brought him to San Francisco anyway?
The phone in Shelby’s hand rang. Startled, she nearly dropped. At the sound of The Trogg’sWild Thing—the song Wade had chosen for her all those years ago—people looked her way.
She spun, still fumbling with the phone, in case Wade turned around and saw her. The line of people now extended out into the street, and a man stood holding open the door. With a quick swipe to accept the call, she squeezed out of the door. “Hang on,” she said into the phone as she walked away briskly. She would not cry. After taking a deep breath, she said, “Shelby Nash here.”
“You all right, Shel?” Alan asked without any greeting.
“I’m fine.” Her hands still trembled a little, and she had to force herself to calm down. Whatever had brought Wade Masters to San Francisco, she must not allow his presence here to ruin her trip. The City was big. The odds that they’d ended up in the same coffee shop were low enough. How likely were their paths to cross again?
“Hmm.” Alan always knew when she was upset. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but your father wants you to come to the office this morning. Like right now.”
She bit back a snarky reply; no need to take her frustration out on Alan. As he was fond of saying, don’t kill the messenger. And he sounded a little on edge. Wade’s presence in San Francisco suddenly seemed a bad omen.
“Shel?”
“I’m here.” She took another deep breath and loosened her grip on the phone, rubbing where the fingernails had dug into her palm. “So nice of Dearest Daddy to care whether or not I might already have an appointment this morning.”
“He knows you don’t have an appointment.” When she huffed, Alan continued, “Give your father a break, please. It’s a security issue. I know you hate this, but please don’t fight it. If not for him, then for me. He’s not the only one who’d be devastated if you were attacked.”
“Right, like he’d really care.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Shelby didn’t argue anymore. Alan’s tone told her he believed what he said.
“Shel?” Alan asked. “You’re not moving. You’re only a couple of blocks away, so it shouldn’t take you long to get here.”
With pinched lips she held the phone away from her and stared at it. She looked around for a trash can.
“Don’t throw another phone away,” Alan cautioned, his voice coming softly from the phone in her hand. “You know what happened the last time you thought your father had put a tracker in it. I swear, you’re turning as paranoid as he is.”
