Collateral 2 (Debt Collection) Read online

  With a nod, he relented. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” She handed him one to inspect. “They’re made from vintage car parts. These were from a ’68 Corvette.”

  “Okay. That’s cool as shit.” He examined the square stamped cufflink. It had a nice patina and a little weight in his hand.

  She laughed. “I figured you would like them.”

  “I do. Thank you for letting me borrow them.”

  “You’re welcome.” She took the cufflink from his hand and fastened it in place. “There.”

  He bent down to capture her mouth in an appreciative kiss. “We better get on the road.”

  “Let me grab my clutch.”

  While she disappeared into the bathroom and walk-in closet, he checked his phone. There were a few messages from Jet in coded language letting him know the security team was together for the poker game. He didn’t think the guy who had robbed them would be stupid enough to try it again, but they had to be prepared.

  “Ben, I forgot to tell you something that Marley mentioned at brunch,” Aston said as she came back into the bedroom with a pale gold clutch in hand. With a teasing scowl, she added, “You distracted me.”

  “You enjoyed it,” he countered, remembering how loud she had been toward the end.

  “Not the point,” she said, flicking his chest. “So, Marley and I were talking about the thing that happened at Phan’s yesterday.”

  “And?”

  “And she said that she thought she recognized the red truck.”

  “Was she sure?”

  “She seemed fairly certain it was the same truck that had been at the pawn shop the night before,” Aston explained. “She said the guy was giving off weird vibes, and she decided to not buy from him or loan him any cash. She figured he was trying to fence stuff he stole.”

  “Do you think the security cameras might have gotten his face?” he asked, already reaching for his phone.

  “I think there’s a good chance.” Then with a sly little smile, she suggested, “You should have your boss drop by the shop to ask her.”

  Ben leveled a look at her. “I see what you did there.”

  “What?” she feigned innocence.

  “You really want to play matchmaker with those two?”

  She shrugged. “If it’s meant to be, it will happen.”

  Even though he wasn’t sure it was a good idea for Marley and Besian to get together, he nevertheless sent a message to the boss. As he trailed Aston downstairs and out into the garage, he imagined how messy a love affair between an Albanian mob boss and the daughter of an outlaw MC’s president could get. If things went south, sides would have to be taken. It would not end well for anyone.

  Then again, if things went well…

  “What are you doing?” Ben asked as Aston made her way to the driver’s side.

  “Driving us to the wedding,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “In those heels?” They were at least three inches, sharp and thin. He didn’t even know how she could balance in them, especially considering there were only slim golden strips wrapping around her ankles.

  “What’s wrong with them?”

  “Nothing,” he said, enjoying the way they made her legs look, “if you’re walking or dancing, but driving?” He shook his head and flicked his fingers for the keys. “No way.”

  She pouted but handed over the keys anyway. “Fine.”

  He snatched her hand before she could move away and tugged her in close. With his other hand, he outlined the curve of her perfect ass and the smooth plane of her thigh before sliding under her dress to cup her bare cheek. “Let me drive now. I’ll let you drive later.”

  His meaning wasn’t lost on her. With a grin, she kissed him. “Deal.”

  Chapter Eight

  While I waited for Ben to handle the valet, I smiled at the few wedding guests I recognized milling around the entrance to the venue. Ben threaded his arm through mine, and I let him take the lead, guiding me into the beautifully decorated foyer. Although this was Oliver’s fourth wedding, he had clearly spared no expense. I lingered near one of the flower arrangements outside the ceremony space to enjoy the pretty magnolias for a moment.

  “If this is what his fourth wedding looks like, how crazy was the first one?” Ben asked in a whisper before taking two program cards from the basket.

  “I don’t remember the first one.” I smiled at the usher who led us down the aisle. “I was only three or four.”

  We walked all the way down a row of empty seats on the groom’s side and settled into our places. The chairs around us were starting to fill up and more than once I stood to hug and cheek kiss longtime family friends. Ben seemed not to mind being introduced over and over and shaking hands with strangers. I shot him an apologetic smile when we finally managed to sit down again.

  With a shake of his head, Ben silently communicated that it wasn’t a problem. He clasped my hand and interlaced our fingers before lifting my hand for a sweet kiss. He let me tug his hand into my lap, holding tight as the music shifted and the lights dimmed a bit. At the front of the elegantly decorated room, Oliver and his best man walked to the makeshift altar with the officiant. He seemed to be searching the room for someone, and when our gazes met, I realized it was me. He smiled at me, but I could see the sadness in his dark eyes at not having my dad standing next to him for the fourth time. I nodded slightly, letting him know I understood and shared his feelings.

  The ceremony began with the most adorable little flower girls and a ring bearer. Bridesmaids and groomsmen followed, many of the groomsmen friends of my father’s as well. When the bridal music began, we all stood to watch the procession of the bride and her father. I had met Lily back when my father had still been alive, only a few months before his metastasized cancer had finally taken him. She seemed lovely, very kind and obviously in love with Oliver. Maybe the fourth time would be the charm for him. Maybe Lily finally was The One.

  When we sat, I noticed Ben looking at Lily with an odd expression, almost as if he recognized her. Curious, I thought, wondering where they had crossed paths. I held onto that question until the short ceremony ended. Tucked in tight to Ben’s side, I followed the trail of guests leaving the ceremony space for the adjacent cocktail reception. I waited until we were out of the crush of people to ask, “Do you know her?”

  “The bride?” He glanced down at me and nodded. “Not well, but I recognize her.” He looked suddenly uncomfortable. “It might be strange for her to see me here.”

  “Why?”

  He gently pulled me toward a more private area. Dipping down, he cupped my face and brushed his lips across my cheek. His mouth moved closer to my ear, and he whispered, “She was one of Alina’s girls.”

  I schooled my features, not letting on that he had just dropped a bomb right in the middle of a wedding reception. To anyone else, we looked like two young lovers sharing a tender moment. I wanted to keep it that way.

  “Aston?” He seemed worried now, his brow creased with concern.

  “That can stay our secret.”

  “Of course,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t dare expose anyone like that.” He hesitated. “Does it bother you?”

  I frowned up at him. “Why in the world would that bother me? They’re both adults.” With a little shake of my head, I sent a pointed glance to the crowd surrounding us. “They’re the ones who might make it a big deal.”

  His sharp gaze moved around the room. Eventually, he said, “There are enough of Alina’s clients in here to make that unlikely. I don’t think anyone will let on that they recognize each other.”

  Surprised by Ben’s remark, I cast a surreptitious look around the room filled with Oliver and Lily’s friends and family and wondered which of them were known clients. Another thought struck me, this one unwanted and uncomfortable. What if my father…?

  “Aston!”

  At the sound of that familiar, booming voice, I winced and waited for the inevitable aw
kwardness that was about to descend on us. Tad Gaines, one of the hottest players in professional football, strode toward me with that silly, boyish grin that used to make my stomach do somersaults. He swept me up in a bear hug that damn near crushed my lungs. I couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. He’d always been a sweetheart of a man and kind to a fault.

  “I told Britt that was you!” Tad set me back down. “You look great. How have you been?”

  “Good.” Glancing at Ben, I noticed his tight expression and hurriedly introduced him. “Tad, this is my boyfriend. Ben, this is my friend, Tad.”

  “Happy to meet you, Ben.”

  “Same,” Ben said as he gripped Tad’s hand. “That was a hell of a catch last game.”

  “It was lucky as heck,” Tad replied with a laugh.

  As they shook hands, both men seemed to be sizing up the other. They were similar in height and build, but different in every other way. Ben had dark hair where Tad was blond. Ben was quieter, more serious and brooding while Tad had a brash personality and enjoyed being the life of the party.

  “Aston!” Brittany, Tad’s heavily pregnant wife, joined us. Her gorgeous red hair fell in loose waves down her back, spurring envious thoughts as I imagined having been blessed with her hair genes. She had chosen a dress similar to mine in color, the dark blue contrasting beautifully against her hair.

  “Britt!” I hugged her tightly. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  “It’s been a while,” she said, her gaze softening as she rubbed my shoulder. “How have you been?”

  “Good.” I hadn’t seen either of them since my father’s funeral so her concern was touching. “It gets a little easier every day.” I reached for Ben’s hand and smiled up at him. “It helps to have someone like Ben in my corner.”

  His earlier unease vanished, and his expression turned tender and warm. His hand left hand drifted to the small of my back while the other reached out toward Brittany. “Ben Beciraj.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ben.” She shot me a saucy look and raised her eyebrows as if impressed with him. “Do you two work together?”

  “No, I own an auto shop.”

  “He helped me with my dad’s favorite car,” I added, sharing a secret smile with Ben. That was a very, very tame description of our first interaction.

  “How about that!” Tad grinned and looked utterly pleased with himself. “Didn’t I tell you that you’d find your perfect man in a garage?”

  “You did,” I agreed, remembering that conversation well. “When you retire from playing football, you should open a matchmaking service.”

  “Hell!” Tad laughed. “I just might.” He slipped an arm around Brittany’s shoulders and asked, “What do you think, darlin’?”

  “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” She patted his chest and then let her hand drift to the curve of her belly, the outrageously large diamond in her ring sparkling like a star.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, my gaze following her movement.

  “Like a whale,” Brittany replied with a laugh. “Seven more weeks until it’s showtime.”

  “Fingers crossed it’s not on a game day.” Tad was teasing, but I sensed he was actually worried about it. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to miss his baby’s birth, but I suspected his contract with the team would penalize him for missing a game.

  “Did you get your baby shower invitation?” Brittany asked after playfully thumping her husband’s arm.

  “I did. I’ve already sent my RSVP to your sister.” I didn’t mention that I had spent almost two hours scouring her baby registry trying to decide what to buy while feeling woefully out of my depth.

  Even though we wanted to chat more, Tad was pulled away to speak with another couple and Brittany dutifully followed. Alone with Ben, I decided to be proactive about the whole thing. “So, uh, we dated for a while.”

  “I figured,” Ben said, reaching out to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. “How long?”

  “Two years in high school and one year of college. Long distance,” I added, taking a glass from him. “He was at Alabama, and I was here at Rice.” Worried he might feel blindsided by meeting an old boyfriend of mine, I said, “I should have warned you he might be here. Oliver is his uncle. That’s how we met when we were kids.”

  Ben frowned. “Aston, you don’t have to justify your dating history to me.”

  “I know, but I’m sure I wouldn’t be happy to see one of your old girlfriends picking you up and bear hugging you like that.”

  “I’ve never dated a girl that tall or strong,” he replied, his mouth twitching with a hint of a smile.

  A snort of laughter escaped me. “You know what I mean.”

  His big, warm hand settled against my face, and his thumb rubbed along the apple of my cheek. I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes for a moment, just enjoying the sensation of his heated skin on mine. It was a gesture that told me all I needed to know.

  When I finally took a sip of my champagne, I grimaced. “Ugh.”

  “What’s wrong?” Ben asked with concern.

  “Tastes funny,” I said, setting my glass on the tray of a passing waiter.

  Ben took a tentative sip of his. “Tastes fine to me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced around and asked, “Do you want me to grab a pink cocktail from one of the waiters? No idea what’s in it, but it looks like something you’d enjoy.”

  “No, I’ll just stick to the punch.”

  Ben walked with me to the refreshment station so I could get a small cup of the cranberry red punch being served for the kids and teetotalers at the reception. Crisp and cold, it tasted delicious and was exactly what I needed. Side by side, we snatched a few canapes before finding ourselves pulled into a conversation with some of my coworkers. Despite Ben’s distaste for social situations like these, he played the part well.

  Betty, especially, seemed to adore him. “Sugar, you’re even cuter in person. The first time you stop by the office, I’m stealing you away.”

  “I’d probably let you,” Ben teased, taking her outrageous flirting in stride.

  All around us, guests were starting to move toward the dining room. We joined the flow and waited to find our place cards.

  “Lucky me,” Betty announced as she found her place card put us at the same table. With a flirtatious grin, she slipped her arm around Ben’s so he could escort us both into the dinner. “All right, handsome, lead the way.”

  She continued making moon eyes at Ben as dinner was served and the speeches began. Glad to see Ben relaxed and enjoying himself, I picked at the successive courses that appeared before me. My appetite had been off the last few days.

  “Do you want to trade?” Ben had leaned over, his voice tinged with concern as he motioned toward my plate of filet mignon and roasted vegetables.

  “No, but thank you for offering,” I said, glancing at the lamb in front of him. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I reached under the table and patted his leg. “I’m sure. I’m saving room for cake.”

  He clearly wasn’t convinced with my excuse but acquiesced with a nod. I managed to enjoy the sweet potatoes and parsnips and two bites of the flavorful filet before deciding I was done.

  “Do you think Margie will be back at work on Monday?” Jed asked from his place across the table. He was addressing all of us, but only Betty answered.

  “Not if Carrie was telling the truth,” Betty said in that conspiratorial, gossipy tone that warned she had a juicy bit of news to tell.

  “Carrie?” I asked, not recognizing the name as a fellow employee.

  “She’s at PwC,” Jed explained and gestured to a table not far away. “She used to handle our outside auditing before she got promoted.”

  “She lives next door to Margie,” Betty interjected. “When we were having cocktails earlier, she asked if I had spoken to Margie today.”

  “Why?”
I held my breath, fearing the worst for Margie.

  “Because, apparently,” Betty drew out the word, “Margie’s house was crawling with the Feds this morning.”

  “Oh, no,” I gasped. “I really hope that’s not true.”

  “So do I.” Jed shook his head as he reached for his wine glass. “We’ll have to let her go if it is.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t think of a single reason to fire her. “She’s great at her job. Our clients love her.”

  “If her husband is up to shady business, we can’t have her in the office anymore,” Jed insisted. “There’s too much risk to our reputation.”

  “But…she has a new baby,” I persisted. “We don’t even know why there were agents at her place or what her husband did or didn’t do. Even if he did do something illegal, she shouldn’t be held responsible for that.”

  Jed smiled sadly. “You’re young, kiddo. You haven’t seen how ugly this business can get, how cutthroat we have to be sometimes. If Gary really did embezzle from his clients like everyone is saying, Margie is gone.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. I might not have an office in the C-suites yet, but the business was mine. My father had left it to me, with a few strings attached until I was ready to take over, but I wasn’t going to let Jed or Oliver fire Margie if she had been blindsided by her husband’s crimes.

  “Who are Gary and Margie?” Ben asked as Oliver and Lily made their way to their cake.

  “Margie is a risk analyst. Dad hired her right out of college, like, eleven or twelve years ago,” I said, my voice soft as we moved our heads close together for some privacy. “Her husband is in trouble. He works in real estate.”

  “Like a realtor?”

  “No. He handles financial arrangements. Well, he’s supposed to handle them. He seems to have been stealing the money instead.”

  His expression turned pensive, as if he had just heard something interesting or important. I wanted to press him, to find out what he was thinking or knew, but the couple had just cut the cake and were feeding each other a piece. It was a sweet moment, and I happily clapped for them.

  “Thank goodness!” Betty exclaimed as her slice of cake was placed in front of her. “Not a scrap of fondant to be seen. I’m so tired of having to peel away that powdered sugar Play-Doh.” She cut into her cake with her dessert fork. “I blame Martha Stewart for making those abominations popular.”