Risking Ruin Page 21

  Marisa looked up at him. “Uhm, yes?,” she replied, more than slightly confused. Haven’t we had dinner like a lot in the past month?

  Trip came barreling out of the front door and wrapped Marisa into his arms. “You have no idea how long I’ve imagined doing just that,” he said into her hair before pulling her back and giving her a soft kiss on her lips. The night’s silence returned, save for the distant soft rumble of trains. After an indeterminate amount of time, Marisa felt Trip’s grasp on her soften and then release. “Okay, I’ve got to get you back so you can save me from the one-armed man.”

  “’The Fugitive?’,” asked Marisa, trying to think why Trip would be referencing either the old TV show or the Harrison Ford movie.

  “No, the pecan guy. Now get a move on,” he replied and shot off down the street. Marisa rolled her eyes at him. Thank goodness that was a privileged conversation. Then before he could round the corner out of her sight, she chased after him through the lamp-lit streets.

  When they arrived back at the condo building other walkers and joggers were beginning to materialize on the sidewalks and streets. “I’ve got my keys with me, so I’m just going to hop in my car here. Okay if I leave my yesterday things at your place?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. Let me tell you about my week pretty quickly. I fly out this evening to Biloxi. I’ll be down there until Thursday night and my schedule is booked while I’m down there, so I’m warning you not to freak out if you don’t hear much from me. I’m choppering out to a rig, visiting a shipyard, and then paying homage to that wonderful family whose shrimp you can’t seem to get enough of. Do you think you and Vanessa can do an in-person report on Friday morning with her investigation results?”

  “I’ll get that set up. Your office or mine?

  “Yours. I still haven’t told my dad about the investigation. Just let my assistant Jenny know and she’ll get it on my calendar. If the sneak peak you get is good from her, ask Jenny to book an hour with my dad for that afternoon. If it’s not, then don’t. Your call.”

  “Got it.”

  Trip leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Go get ‘em, killer.” Marisa smiled, and as she turned to walk into her building she felt the sharp smack of Trip’s palm on her behind.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  On Wednesday afternoon Marisa had a teleconference with Vanessa. “We’ve got her,” crowed Vanessa. “Sure enough, that woman is a piece of work. She met each of the plaintiffs at the Botanic Gardens’ café. She even sat at the same table each time. We were able to get close enough to record by using one of my grandmotherly-looking employees at a nearby table with some knitting and on another day with my now favorite sixty-year old retiree, pretending to peruse a gardening magazine over some hot tea all the while getting great audio. I’m having the recordings messengered over to your office tomorrow morning. They are too big to email.”

  “Great. I’m looking forward to this. Thank you so much for your hard work.” Marisa set down the phone and called out to Jane.

  “Jane!,” Marisa called.

  A moment later Jane’s head poked through the doorway of Marisa’s office. “We got her. Vanessa got that Amelia woman on audio with the Branco plaintiffs.”

  Jane’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

  “Yup. She’s having the recordings couriered over this afternoon. I need you to call Trip Brannon’s assistant Jenny and set up a Friday morning meeting with him at our office and also ask that she get Trip an hour with his dad on Friday afternoon. We’ll have a big day tomorrow getting ready for that meeting, so make those calls and then stop back in.”

  Marisa pulled out her phone and texted Trip. I’ve got a surprise when you get home. She turned back to her computer and began to shut it down. Her phone vibrated on her desk.

  Good surprise?

  Of course.

  Good. Plans this weekend?

  Nope.

  Well you do now. You keep your surprise and I’ll keep mine.

  Jane popped back into Marisa’s office. “Those meetings are booked. Trip will be here at nine-thirty Friday morning and he’s down on his dad’s calendar for four o’clock. Trip’s assistant Jenny is placing it on their calendars and I’ve added it to yours.”

  “Perfect. Now we go.”

  “We go where? It’s not quite four.”

  “We go do some celebrating. After this the least I can do is treat you to an early dinner out at Saddle Creek on the clock and a new Vera Bradley tote.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No, I’m not. You’ve been more than a lifesaver and this is how I’m starting to say thanks. Now, let’s go before the traffic gets terrible.”

  ***

  Marisa arrived at the office before seven the next morning, feeling happy and confident. She and Jane had a nice time together and Marisa had been more than true to her word, treating Jane to a coordinating handbag, wallet, and lunch bag. She’d even had the salesgirl slip a hundred dollar gift card in the wallet for Jane to find later.

  Her first cup of milky coffee in hand, she plugged her earbuds into the computer and slipped in the first CD. Marisa pulled out a fresh legal pad and began to take detailed notes. Not only would she be turning this into a presentation for Trip that Trip would then flip to his father, she knew that crafting a strategy to deal with the pending lawsuits was the most critical task. Trip could handle Jimmy. She just had to do the legwork for him.

  Four hours and three cups of coffee later, Marisa set down her pen. Her legal pad was full of notes and she still couldn’t believe what Vanessa and her team had uncovered. In addition to the pictures and video of Amelia meeting with each of the plaintiffs, the audio was spectacular. The women were incredibly open about the lawsuits, their need for money to pay for houses and custody fights with their ex-husbands, and how it was a con. When Eloise, the woman in Branco’s IT department who claimed her boss forced her to watch porn with him every Friday, began to cry and say she couldn’t lie any more, Amelia had comforted her, reassured her, and then stroked a check to keep Eloise in the game, promising Eloise that she was sure Branco would soon pay her handsomely to not have the expense and negative publicity of the lawsuit.

  Well, she’s wrong about that, thought Marisa smugly.

  “Jane!,” yelled Marisa. “Do you have the outline of the PowerPoint with the bios?”

  “Yes. Just finishing that up now,” Jane replied, as she walked in and dumped a turkey sub on Marisa’s desk.

  “Okay, look through my notes and you’ll see the audio clips I want folded in. Work your computer magic to make that happen. And thanks for reminding me to eat.”

  “That’s my job,” said Jane, leaving with the yellow legal pad in hand. Now Marisa just had to do her job and figure out how to get Branco out of this mess.

  By ten o’clock that night Marisa was still at her desk, finishing up her recommendations and polishing the morning’s presentation. Her phone vibrated with a number she didn’t recognize. “Marisa Tanner,” she answered.

  “So, it’s good,” Trip asked, dispensing with the typical pleasantries.

  “Yup. I’d say so. Money well spent.”

  “Yes, I really do try my best not to make poor business decisions. I know that may surprise you.”

  “How has your week been?”

  “Fine. I’ve been busy, but I managed to get a quick ride in this afternoon.”

  “Do you rent bikes when you travel for work? How do you do that?”

  “I keep a bike with me. If I go far, I’ve got one that folds up in a little suitcase. It’s called a Bike Friday and has pretty small wheels. I’m sure I look like a fool on it, but I just unfold it when I want to ride.”

  “Huh. I’ve never heard of such a thing. And this is what you were tooling around the Gulf Coast with this week?”

  Trip laughed. “Well, actually no. I put my KGS in the Piper. I take the Bike Friday when I’m going overseas.”

  “Ba
ck up. Let me get this straight. I assume KGS is some sort of bike and you’re telling me you keep it in the back of your plane?”

  “Yes. Okay, that sounds a little crazy, but you know I love to ride.”

  “I’m more talking about the plane.”

  “Well, the plane is just a plane. It’s nothing to talk about. The KGS on the other hand is a piece of art. Really it is. You’ll have to see it to understand. I had to go to San Antonio to have special measurements taken. It was designed from the ground up to fit me perfectly. It belongs in a museum. I was on the waitlist for four years to get one.”

  “So, it’s the Birkin of bikes?”

  “I honestly have no idea what word just came out of your mouth, but sure.”

  “So, your flight is tonight?”

  “Actually my flight is right now. I’m on the sat phone.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I’m the pilot, so I can pretty much do what I want. Listen, I took off later than I thought. I was hoping to get to see you tonight, but I’m not going to land until after midnight. We still on for the morning?”

  “Yes. I’ve missed you.”

  “Good. I’ve missed you, too. Did you still keep your calendar open for me this weekend?”

  “Yup. I’ve told you my secret is good news. Can I at least get a hint?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Well, okay. I’m going to finish up at the office, and then go soak in a bubble bath for an hour before going to sleep naked in my bed.”

  “Marisa. Seriously. I’m thousands of feet up in the air right now flying myself home to you after a long day. Please don’t get me started. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Night,” said Marisa, as she ended the call. Home to me. He just said home to me.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  By seven o’clock Marisa’s hair was blown dry and her makeup done, but she was still trying hard to strike a balance between being professional and showing off for Trip. The lapis bracelet he had given her was non-negotiable. He’d nearly ravaged her last time she’d worn the blue and black jersey wrap dress, so that was not appropriate, but her court shoes were definitely going to be worn. She stood in front of her closet, clad in her blush lace La Perla set, her favorite black stilettos, and Trip’s bracelet.

  Her phone rang. “Marisa Tanner.”

  “Marisa, it’s Thomas downstairs. You’ve got an early morning FedEx. Should I bring it up?”

  “Sure,” said Marisa, trying to puzzle out why she’d be getting a First Overnight FedEx at her home rather than her office. Whose assistant bungled that? At the knock on the door, she grabbed her lavender robe and wrapped it quickly around her. She opened the door a few inches and stuck her hand out, hiding her body behind the door. “Thanks, Thomas. You’re a peach,” she said, reaching for the envelope.

  Thomas grasped her hand and planted a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist. Marisa wrenched her hand away. What the fuck? She flung the door open to find not Thomas, but Trip. His face was beaming and he held a large brown paper bag in his left hand. Her jaw dropped and he wordlessly brushed past her and proceeded directly to her kitchen. Marisa closed the door and followed him.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” she said evenly, still completely off kilter from his kiss.

  Trip’s eyes didn’t meet hers. He dug around in the paper bag. “I don’t know what kind of yogurt you like, so I just grabbed everything and you’ll get to pick.” Trip lined up a panoply of yogurt cups on the counter. Greek, Australian, Swiss, mango, plain, strawberry, full fat, non-fat, reduced fat, sugar free, soy.

  Marisa just stared at the man in her kitchen wearing a grey chalk stripe suit and crisp blue shirt with a white collar and cuffs. His silver cufflinks flashed in the overhead lights as he busied himself perfecting the display of a dozen yogurts.

  “Pick. The granola options aren’t so extensive. I’ve got whatever was in the pantry,” said Trip as he pulled out two plastic bags tied with green metal twists. “I think one has raisins and the other doesn’t, but otherwise I can’t tell the difference.”

  Marisa blinked twice, trying to process his presence. “Why are you here?”

  “Well, I’m eating breakfast with you. I understand you’ve got a big meeting with an important client in a couple of hours, so you’ll want plenty of energy. And what’s in it for me? I’m glad you asked. I finally get to eat breakfast with Runner Girl, rather than watch you while I eat microwaved oatmeal by myself.” Trip reached into the bag a final time and pulled out three packets of instant oatmeal. “No more lonely oatmeal. Now, where are the bowls?”

  Marisa’s feet thawed and she found a bowl for Trip. “Did you knock over a Kroger this morning?”

  “No, I just asked my mom to see if I could get some yogurt and granola for the house. She asked what kind I wanted and I said I didn’t know, so I guess she told Ophelia to just pick some things and put them in the fridge.”

  “Your mom really does take care of you, doesn’t she?”

  “I can do it on my own. I haven’t always lived nearby, you know, so it’s not like she was sending her housekeeper to Pennsylvania or California. But here, it works for me. Now, which yogurt would you like?”

  “Huh, I’ll take strawberry.”

  “Greek or Icelandic?”

  “I don’t even know what Icelandic yogurt is, so I’ll go with the Greek.”

  “Don’t ask me. It’s not like I bought it. And do you like the granola on top, mixed in, or on the side?”

  “I can fix it myself.”

  “You can do lots of things yourself. That’s not the point. Now, how do you like the granola?”

  “Mixed in,” said Marisa, giving in to his forceful tones.

  “Good. Now, go sit at the table and I’ll have this to you in two shakes. You like your coffee with lots of milk, but no sugar, right?”

  “Uh, yes,” said Marisa. Now how did he know that?

  As if reading her mind he answered her unspoken question. “You had a latte when we went for coffee after that meeting with John.”

  “And you remembered?”

  “There isn’t much about you that is forgettable, Marisa,” said Trip, looking into her eyes as he set her breakfast in front of her. Marisa’s heart melted and her cheeks reddened. He is beyond charming. She heard the microwave beep. He disappeared and quickly returned to the table, cupping a steaming bowl of oatmeal in his hands, cushioned with paper towels. “I’m sorry that I travel so much.”

  “That can’t be helped and is nothing to apologize for,” she said, sipping her coffee.

  “Well, it sucks. I miss you constantly. You have no clue how hard it was to drive past your building last night around one o’clock and not pound on your door until you woke up and let me in. How was your bubble bath?”

  Marisa took a big bite of her yogurt and smiled. “You still thinking about that?”

  “Since I’m not flying a plane at the moment, I’m definitely thinking about it. In fact, I was thinking about how I wasn’t going to be able to get through a business meeting without seeing you first. I promised you there would be no repeats of the incident with your friend the sweater, so here I am. Care to tell me about that bath?,” he said, blowing on his steaming oatmeal and waggling his eyebrows.

  “It didn’t happen. I was just teasing you. I came home last night and crashed. I barely got my teeth brushed before I fell asleep.”

  “And the sleeping naked part? Did that happen or was that said just to torment me, too?,” said Trip in a light tone.

  “No, that happened.”

  “Still happening?”

  Marisa’s spoon clattered on the table. “Trip! Really!,” she castigated him. “You are hopeless.”

  “Indubitably,” he smiled, as he shoved a giant spoonful of oatmeal through his lush lips and into his waiting open mouth. He swallowed quickly and washed his food down with a large gulp of milk. “Are you going to answer me?”

  “No,” sa
id Marisa, crossing her arms.

  “No, you’re not naked under that pretty little robe or, no, you’re not telling me?”

  Marisa smiled. He’s too much fun for my own good. “I’m not telling you,” she shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”

  “Is that an invitation?,” asked Trip, setting down his spoon. Marisa looked at the clock on the wall.

  “Well, as you know, I’ve got a meeting with a very important client in a couple of hours and want to make sure I’m fully prepared, so I’ve got to get out of here soon.”

  “I’m sure the client would understand if you needed to push back that meeting for a bit. Like thirty minutes or so,” said Trip, pulling out his phone. “Jenny, when you get in, I need you to call Marisa Tanner’s office and have my meeting with her pushed back until ten o’clock. On second thought, make it ten-thirty. I won’t be in beforehand. I’m going to work from home this morning and will go directly to her office.” He set the phone back on the dining room table and looked at Marisa hungrily.

  “Working from home? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  “Yes, and I’m going to be very busy and very focused,” said Trip, standing up and walking behind Marisa’s chair. He brushed her hair to the side and grazed her neck with a string of kisses, working up to her ear where he lightly tugged on her lobe with his teeth. Sparks shot up her spine. She relaxed into him and her thighs tensed. A soft moan escaped from her lips. As his lips retreated from her ear, he slipped a hand under the lapel of her robe and gently cupped her right breast. “Ah, so you are wearing something, sweetheart.”

  Marisa chose not to respond but decided to bask in his nearness, caresses, and attention. He pushed down the top of her robe and kissed along the tops of her exposed shoulders. “Excellent choice, counselor,” he said, peering down at the cleavage generated by the delicate lace and underwire. He took her hand and helped lift her from the chair. “Damn fine choice,” he continued, taking in her exposed torso with the lavender robe tied tight and resting on her hips. He leaned in to her again and she held her breath, bracing herself for more kisses. Instead, he placed his mouth next to her ear and whispered. “Let’s see what else I can find.” Without withdrawing from her, his hand tugged apart the robe’s tie and it fell to the floor in a purple puddle. She kicked it aside and started to press her body against him. He held her firm. “Now, let me see what I’ve found.”