Desperate and Gorgeous Bk. 01 Ch. 01

Chapter One

Where is she? I thought as I paced the room.

I had it measured by now. It was six steps from one side to the other.

Six steps. Stop, turn. Six more steps. My shoes swished on the carpet.

Maybe a drink would help. I poured a bourbon, took a sip, and set it on the desk. Two large computer monitors and an open laptop took up most of the space on the desk. Columns and tables of numbers littered the screens. She shouldn't see that. I closed the programs.

Six steps. The drink sat on the table, forgotten.

The clock on the mantle chimed. It sat above a gas fireplace, flanked by tall bookcases. She's late.

"You'll let me know when they get here?" I asked and released the button on the keyboard.

Static answered me. Then, "Yes, sir." Steve sounded annoyed. That's fair. I had asked him that already.

Six steps. My next turn went wide and I scooted to dodge the chair. The room was divided into halves. My desk and work space were on one side and a small coffee table with a couch and chairs were on the other. It created a convenient aisle.

What if she doesn't show? When she made the appointment I recognized her name. I knew she was an actress, if not anything she was in. Then I watched G-Force, the summer's latest superhero movie. Wow.

Six steps. I figured she was looking for tax or financial planning advice. But I didn't know how she got my name, and that's not really what I did. At least not for the public. So I was in the dark. I was used to planning extensively for meetings, in my business I had to be right. It was the uncertainty that was getting to me. It's also not every day you meet Leah James, I thought. There was that too.

Static. Then, "Sir, there's a woman here who says she has an appointment, along with her driver. Should I send them up?"

"Yes, but send someone with them," I answered.

"Yes sir."

I stopped pacing and watched the computer monitor. A Black SUV led a white sedan from one camera's operational zone to the next as they drove along the road that cut through the trees. Before long they stopped in front of a house surrounded by oaks and maples. My house. Two years ago I bought the place and surrounding acres of woods. Since then I had spent a not-small amount of time and money renovating it.

I remembered the bourbon when I almost knocked it off the desk, and downed it in one pull. The burn distracted me from what was happening outside. Vanilla, caramel, and oak lingered. I looked around the room. It was as presentable as it was going to get.

Heavy knocks on the door made me jump. When I answered, a broad-shouldered man stood on the other side. He had dark hair and a crooked nose that looked like it had been broken one too many times.

"Sir, your guests are here," Jack said and stepped to the side. One of my other guards was next to the smaller white car as a third burly man held the passenger door open.

She was medium height and wore white pants that were practically painted on, a black belt, and a white strapless top that clung to an impressive chest. It would have showed a mouth-watering amount of skin except for the stylish leather jacket she wore over top. She had a dark, naturally tanned complexion that looked more Mediterranean than time in the sun. Long, dark, straight hair fell just past her shoulders, and she wore expensive sunglasses. She looked straight ahead as she strode to the porch and all four men watched in silence, her fashionable shoes stepping lightly on the pavement. She slid her sunglasses back as she made her way up the few steps. Her eyes were a dazzling blue, clear and intense, a stark contrast to her tanned skin. Her dark features and blue eyes gave her an exotic appeal. When she reached me her smile was bright, and her eyes held mine like there was nobody else around. Like we were in our own little bubble.

I stood in the doorway, stunned and staring for a moment, while my brain kicked back into gear.

"Hello, Mr. Peters?"

I composed myself and took her offered hand. I was sure I had never seen a more beautiful woman in person.

"Call me Matt. Nice to meet you, Miss James."

"Leah, please."

"Come in, make yourself comfortable, Leah," I replied and enjoyed a small thrill just from saying her name with her standing so close. I finally noticed that her security guard had also made his way onto the porch when he started to follow her in. I held up a hand.

"Sorry, just her, if you don't mind waiting outside. Jack and Andy will get you anything you need," I said more confidently than I normally would have when staring at someone with arms like a gorilla's. He wasn't impressed, and looked to Leah. When she nodded, he stood off to the side and the three security guards chatted.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked.

"That would be wonderful. Thank you." She answered, and I poured two bourbons.

We sat across the desk from each other and took small sips. "So what brings you to Lockport?"

"This is a beautiful property, and you must love the privacy. Every time I'm in New York I think how lovely it would be to settle in here away from... well, everyone," Leah said. Her voice was warm and friendly, and she made eye contact while we spoke.

"Thanks, I'm sure you don't get much of that these days. I didn't notice any paparazzi behind you though. Secret underground tunnel out of the airport reserved for the rich and famous?"

"Oh you know, we have our ways" she answered with a small conspiratorial smile.

We talked about small things for a while. I asked about her career and what projects she was working on. She had mostly been in small-budget TV movies I hadn't heard of until her big break in G-Force. She, of course, stole every scene she was in. How could anyone look at anything else? She was smooth and graceful when she moved, and when she smiled it looked genuine. Leah was the rare mix of sexy-model-hot, stunningly beautiful with perfect hair and skin, and the down-to-earth pretty girl you've known your whole life who was always out of your league, but would actually talk to you. She knew about the apple festival the town held every year and asked if I was an experienced picker and what kinds made the best pies. I realized my eyes were fixed on hers as she spoke and I couldn't look away. I heard what she said and filed it away in case I needed to remember later, but I was also just taking her in. She was easy to talk to.

"So you're in New York often then?"

"From time to time," she took a small sip. "I have family in the area. And you? Have you always lived here?"

"I grew up in Buffalo, and my grandparents had a house north of here by the lake where they took me camping and fishing in the summers. After college I moved around for work a lot, and always thought about coming back."

Leah playfully said, "Ooo you're the handsome, rugged outdoorsy-type. I knew there was something I liked about you."

I laughed, "That was a long time ago. Now I spend most of my time in the wild world of corporate finance."

She leaned forward, which drew my eyes to her shapely chest, "Tall and smart too. Please tell me you're single Matt."

I felt my cheeks heat up. Leah noticed and took pity on me. "Seriously, I appreciate you taking the time to see me today."

"Not a problem at all. But I don't think you came out here to hear about my fishing expeditions. What can I do for you?"

She was quiet for a long moment before saying, "I've heard you may have connections I could use right now."

"Oh yeah? Who did you hear that from?" I asked casually.

She gave a wry smile. "I would rather not say."

"Fair enough. What exactly are you looking for?"

Leah took another drink. Her eyes studied mine over the brim of her glass, and I noticed again how intensely blue they were. "I am looking for someone that is well-connected with the police, has access to money, and good lawyers on retainer. And unless I missed my guess, you have dangerous friends, which may also be helpful."

I leaned back and it was my turn to pause. I didn't like my name associated with anything unsavory.

"How do you have such a nice property on a CPA's salary?"

"I'm a partner at a successful accounting firm. These days money is just numbers on a computer screen, so even though I have clients all over the world, I can do my job from anywhere. Like I said before, I grew up in the area and always wanted to come back one day. So I did." All true statements, technically, and an explanation I had used when I was buying the house. It was easier to stick to a rehearsed script than to come up with a new lie while sitting near this woman.

"It sounds like you might be in legal trouble. Can you give me any more information?"

She chose her words carefully. "The night before last, there was an incident on route one-ninety near Colonial Village, an accident at a rest stop. The driver was arrested and they found cocaine in her system." Leah paused, and when I didn't respond she nodded and continued. "My sister was the driver, she is in the hospital."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It sounds like your sister needs a good lawyer. You're right I do have contacts that specialize in this sort of thing, I can get you their information. They're not cheap though." I started looking through my email. Then I remembered the other items she mentioned. "You said you needed cash. I assumed from seeing you on TV and social media everywhere, you had serious endorsement income at the very least."

"They also found forty pounds of cocaine in the trunk. And the woman that was hit died later that night." Her voice was flat, without any of its earlier warmth.

That stopped me in my tracks and I replied bluntly, "That's 20-to-life and millions in fines... Which I'm guessing you already know."

"She is the only family I have left, and I want to do everything I can to keep her out of trouble."

"Out of trouble? Leah, I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you heard about me, and I'd like to find out who you heard it from so I can set the record straight, but your sister is fucked. Excuse my language. She was driving a car that hit and killed someone. They found drugs in her system and multiple felonies worth of more in the trunk. As soon as she's out of the hospital she's going straight into a cell. It sounds like an open-and-shut case. There's nothing that you, or anyone else, can do to help her now short of breaking her out of a county prison and putting her on a boat."

Leah nodded and finished her drink, reached up to tie her hair back into a simple pony tail, and casually shrugged off her leather jacket. Then she stood and walked the few steps over to the bar where the bottle stood at attention. Her back was to me as she poured, and I noticed her ass do the most amazing things. She turned over one perfect, bare, shoulder and I looked up just before she caught me staring. She tilted the bottle in my direction in an unspoken offer, which I nodded to since the rest of my brain was distracted, and handed her my glass. "So, you see why I need someone that is a professional, has contacts on multiple fronts, and, most importantly, can be discreet." She spoke as she poured, and slowly moved closer to me.

Something happens to men's brain chemistry when a beautiful woman is in need. We become altered. A little cleavage and the slightest bit of flirting can get women out of speeding tickets with no questions asked. Men will tip a pretty face on a bartender significantly more than their male counterparts for the same level of service. A pair of long legs can get us to line up around the block to change a flat tire. It feels good to think we're helping. That the woman is somehow, indebted, to us if even in the smallest way. We know ninety-nine-percent of the time we don't have a chance in hell of going on a date with the woman, let alone anything beyond that. But one-percent changes everything.

But I had been in this business for long enough to know this was trouble. My employers wouldn't want me, or by extension, them, getting wrapped up in anything that involved the police or headlines. This was both. We survived by being careful. I had set up several non-profits in the community, on paper at least, to make regular donations to the police union, firefighters' union, and local healthcare workers. I was a regular volunteer at the food bank down the street. This was not the time or reason to burn any of that equity.

So I pulled myself together and stopped noticing how tight Leah's shirt was against her flat stomach, and how it strained to hold her chest without the help of any straps. I looked her in the eye. "I'm truly, very sorry about your sister. But there's not much more I can do other than give you the names of lawyers I've worked with, and offer a loan at a very reasonable interest rate," I said as she offered me the glass.

"Mmhmm" she replied, as if I hadn't just told her that her sister would likely be spending the rest of her life in prison. "Well, I would appreciate that much at least. Can you show me the names of the lawyers?" As I turned to the screen she stepped closer. She put her hands on the desk next to me and leaned forward to get a closer look, which put her upper body just inches from my face. The flawless, naturally tanned skin of her bare arms and shoulders led up to a slender, delicate neckline. Then down to tits that looked like they would make perfect handfuls. They swelled against the thin fabric. She smelled like caramel. As she searched the screen, seemingly unaware of my blatant staring, she asked, "Cassidy & Strane, or Kylar, Marcus & Johnson, if you had to choose?"

I had no idea what she was talking about. I just hoped she didn't notice the erection starting to tent my pants. "What? Oh, um, Cassidy and Strane is easier to work with, but Kylar is probably cheaper." She faced me and we were so close I could feel her breath on my lips.

"Matt," she began. "I know we just met and this is not fair of me to ask, but my sister is in a terrible position right now. She, we, need more help than what the legal system can provide. I have heard from close friends that there are work-arounds to solve problems like this. I really need your help."

Altered male brain chemistry teamed up with the liquor to fight against my better judgement. I couldn't keep myself from looking at her body bent at my desk. My eyes lingered on her tight waist and round ass, and she definitely noticed me this time, but she didn't seem offended. Her eyes pleaded with me for a long, stretched out moment, until I finally breathed, "Okay. I'll make some calls and see what I can do." She smiled, and leaned forward to brushed her lips against my cheek in a gentle kiss. Then she wrote her cell number on a sticky note and smoothed it against the desk.

"Thank you Matt. I appreciate it more than you know. We don't have much time."

Then Leah James walked out of my office.

I got to work that evening, but I couldn't stop thinking about Leah.

I figured I'd start with the low-hanging fruit and asked one of our lawyers to investigate the details around Leah's sister's arrest. I used them often enough that one more bill would fly under the radar. Since I was responsible for maintaining the financials, and I certainly wasn't going to call anyone's attention to myself, it felt pretty safe.

The biggest law firms in the country charged truly ridiculous rates, but the turn-around time on their work was outstanding. Within the hour I had more information. First, the sister's name was Brooke. Second, the offenses she would be charged with carried a twenty-two year minimum prison sentence. And third, her bail was set at one point one million dollars. While the lawyers looked into the regulations regarding evidence chain of custody, I pulled funds together.

I have Leah James' personal phone number, I thought as I moved money into the holding company for a small chain of restaurants in town, Flavor Brands Inc. They would pay the attorney fees.

Next, I sent a request to my contact at the police station through the Brighter Future Foundation, the nonprofit that made regular contributions to the police union. I asked for a list of current administrative personnel and their addresses, explaining that we wanted to send their kids extra presents for Christmas this year.

Then I dusted off Fresh To You, LLC, a grocery delivery business that had been dormant for years. It would be a total dead end if anyone started digging. I moved funds into the bank account and requested a large cash delivery to the PO Box the bank had on file. An off-the-record payment was likely.

Delilah's, a chain of nail salons in the area, had enough cash on hand to bail Brooke out of prison. She would just need to be retroactively added to the company's cap table and have a distribution recorded in her name.

Finally, I went to the bank and made a cash withdrawal out of Sweet 'N Spicey, LP. They owned a fleet of Asian food trucks. Carrying a little extra cash for unforeseen complications was always a good idea.

God damn, she looked good.

These were all companies my organization had bought out over the years. We were silent partners of businesses that operated in cash. I cleaned the money by mixing proceeds from our other, not-strictly-legal, operations into these businesses. Since most of the transactions were in cash, there was no way for auditors to tell whether everything was legitimate. Once it was filtered and taxes were paid, my employers could legally access their money.

So far I hadn't done anything that would raise any flags. It was my job to coordinate cash flows and maintain the financials after all. Both the set we gave the IRS, and what we kept just for ourselves. But that would change if I had any chance of helping Leah's sister.

The next morning, after working through the night, I visited Hank Rogers' house. He had a bad gambling habit and my associates had been pushing back his collections for months now. Having influence over someone in his position was much more valuable than collecting on his debts, large as they were.

After a not so gentle reminder from Andy of the position he was in, Hank walked me through the evidence they had on the accident. It included photographs of the woman that was killed, the two wrecked cars, and another, younger woman with dark hair slumped over the steering wheel. The airbag had gone off but not before her head slammed into the wheel. Her face was smeared with blood, and part of the dashboard had broken off and pushed into her side. They also had the packages of cocaine recovered from the trunk, and a video recording of the accident taken from an outside security camera at the gas station at the rest stop.

By midday I was tired, but ready to meet with Leah again. I called her and we had an appointment within the hour. I realized hadn't eaten anything yet today and thought about running out to grab lunch, but then thought Leah might be hungry and decided to wait. I spent the time turning the facts over in my head, trying to piece together how this could work. There were pieces on the board. I could move a few of them, and had some ideas that could work for the others. But a lot of it was out of my control.

As time ticked by I started getting anxious. This is her problem, how am I rushing more than her?

I thought about why I was even doing this in the first place. There was a business element of course, and we would get to that. But I had to admit to myself it was mostly because of how attractive she was. When she was in the room I couldn't keep my eyes off her. The image of tight white pants and hips bent at the waist had been in my head since she left the day before. Frank the plumber wouldn't have even made it in the door.