International Guy: Milan, San Francisco, Montreal (International Guy Volumes Book 2) Read online

  Again:

  Call me when you get off the plane.

  And another:

  It’s not what you think! I swear.

  Again:

  I wouldn’t hurt you like that. Never. Not ever.

  The messages keep going on in that similar vein . . .

  Fine. You’re not going to respond to my texts. CALL ME!

  This is insane! I know what you’re thinking, but you have it all wrong.

  Baby, please. Trust me. Trust in us.

  Each text digs deeper and deeper into the wound that she’s made in my heart. She wants me to trust her, but how can I? She spent the night in that bastard’s hotel room. The entire world knows she was with him overnight, or at the very least suspects it. She didn’t take her security team, putting herself in grave danger. Johan Karr is unstable. That much I could easily glean from our discussion. The fact that she put herself in such a perilous position . . . For what? What did she think she could get out of it? I keep reading the rest of her messages.

  Parker, call me. I can’t make this right until you do.

  Why are you ignoring my calls? You’re hurting me, and you don’t even know the truth!

  I tried the IG offices and got voice mail. Wendy isn’t returning my calls either. Please, please, call me!

  I cringe at the need I can feel pulling at my brain with each of her requests.

  Honey, I know you’re mad. I’m sorry. I was stupid. So stupid, but I had to try and fix it myself.

  I run my good hand over my stubbled chin and lips as I read the last two.

  Parker, I need you to trust me. If there is any hope for us, you have to believe I would never betray you. Never ruin what we have.

  The last message guts me, and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek in order to not let the overwhelming emotion building inside of me pour out like I were a weak, pansy-assed wuss. I’d have to give up my man card if I let the feelings that are making my nose drip and my tear ducts sting have their way. I read it again and let the full force of her words slam into my chest and heart, right down into my soul.

  You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Parker. If nothing else, believe that. Please give me the opportunity to explain what happened. I’ll give you some time, a few days, to think about everything. Call me when you’re ready to talk.

  I rub at my tired face and set the phone down. Bo turns off the stove and dishes out a fusilli pasta with a creamy reddish-white sauce over the top and fresh-cut shreds of basil.

  “Dude, when did you learn to cook?” I stare at the food as if it materialized from magic fairy dust, not because my best friend just slaved over the stove to make it for us.

  He grins. “Momma Sterling has been teaching me.”

  “No joke?”

  He smiles and pulls out a sizzling half loaf of buttery garlic bread from the oven. “Nope. She said if I wasn’t going to have a steady woman in my life, and I couldn’t always get to her house to eat a real meal, she was going to teach me a few staples to keep me fit and fed.” He snickers, putting two thick slices of bread on the side of the plate next to the pasta.

  Once he’s plated the meal for both of us, he comes around the bar, gets situated in his seat, and pokes away at his food, forking up a giant bite.

  I sample my own and am happily surprised at how good it is. “Bo, this is the shit.” I chew and swallow it down, forking up more eagerly.

  “True dat.” He smiles. “So . . . about those texts?” He gestures to my phone. “Anything interesting?”

  “Fishing for info?” I smirk.

  “Absolutely. I want to know if this woman played you. Hell, brother, I want to know if she played us all. See, cuz the woman I met, the one I took pictures of back in New York, the one that sat in my brother’s lap while we broke bread together at Lucky’s, a spot that’s fuckin’ sacred to all of us . . . that woman is who we all started to care about.”

  I shake my head. “She seems upset. Begging to talk to me. Wants to explain. Says whatever I’m thinking I’ve got it all wrong. Doesn’t change the facts. She skirted her security team and stayed the night in a hotel with a man who was blackmailing her. Not only that, according to Wendy’s super sleuthing, she paid off all of his debts and set him up in rehab, for Christ’s sake! What am I supposed to think about all of that?”

  Bo chews thoughtfully before responding. “All true. However, those facts do not mean she slept in a bed with him or fucked him. Do you think you could forgive her for the other as long as she didn’t sleep with him?”

  I spend a solid five minutes mulling over his question. Bo knows when I need the space to think, and he doesn’t push for an answer. Instead, we sit in companionable silence, eating the dinner he’s made.

  Can I forgive her if she didn’t betray me physically?

  Yes. I believe I can. It doesn’t fix what happened, and I still don’t know the details, but the real hurt, the betrayal, would be her cheating. The hows and whys of that wouldn’t matter.

  I set down my fork and hold my chin up with my hand, elbow to the counter. “Yeah, I could forgive her for going to him when she should have waited for me. In my opinion, she should have avoided the bastard at all costs. Regardless of the reasons, it was a stupid thing to do.”

  Bo nods. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  I shrug and run my good hand over my arm. “I don’t know yet.”

  “You need to talk to her. She’s the only person who’s going to be able to give you the answers you seek, brother. This you know.”

  “Yeah, I’m just . . . fuck. Straight up, the thought of her going there, spending the night, even if he was on the couch or vice versa. The entire thing is . . . man, it’s eating at me.” I punch my chest, needing to feel something, anything, other than the hurt in my mind and heart.

  “Heard that. Can see it all over you. Proof is staring me in the face. The hole in the wall, the stitches in your hand, your broken bones. You’re bleeding for her, inside and out. Only way to stop that flow is to find out the truth. You’re not going to be able to rest until you do.”

  I rub at my head, my hand pounding a violent, painful rhythm as I consider his words. I grip my wrist and hold it tight, trying to stave off the unbelievable ache.

  “Hurt?” he asks.

  “Fuck yes!” I growl.

  Bo gets up off his stool, goes into the living room, and comes back with a pill bottle. He opens it and shakes out two pain pills. “Doc said you can have two at night before bed but only on a full stomach and with plenty of water. Drink up, eat up, wash those down, and we’ll get you back to bed. I’m going to sleep on the couch, as I mentioned before, in case you need me.”

  I clap Bo on the back. “You don’t have to do that. I can call you. You’re only down the breezeway.”

  He shakes his head. “Would feel more comfortable if I were here in case you have a bad reaction or some shit.”

  Picking my fork back up, I prod and poke at the pasta. I shrug and shove the tasty morsel into my mouth. “Suit yourself.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  After I wash down most of the rest of the water, I glance at Bo, who’s sweeping up the sauce on his plate with a wedge of garlic bread.

  “Thank you,” I mutter, my voice thick and dry at the same time. “Would do the same if the situation were reversed. You know that, right?”

  He nods without saying anything. It’s our way. Brother watching over another brother. Keeping an eye out. Being there when shit goes down.

  I wish romantic relationships were as easy to maneuver. What I’m dealing with is like walking through a freakin’ minefield. I don’t know where to step or stand. The only thing I do have solid footing on is the need to flee. Get back to work as soon as possible and put some serious space between me and this entire mind fuck of Johan and Skyler. More than anything I need some perspective.

  “Regarding the Montreal job, I’m going to the office tomorrow. Have the CEO come i
n and give us the lowdown about her company in secret. From what I understand, she’s been waiting for us to get back in town and situated. I’m thinking this job might be an entire-IG-team approach. What do you say?”

  Bo grins. “Been needing to get the hell out of Dodge. Canada should be great this time of year.”

  And far, far away from my personal problems.

  Alexis Stanton is not at all what I expected when Wendy leads her into my office two days later. She’s tall with a killer body and bangin’ curves. The woman is a walking, talking Playboy bunny in person. However, based on the file Wendy provided on her, she’s a savant-level genius in her field.

  Trying to ignore my aching hand, even after a dose of painkillers, I take my time evaluating the woman while she sits across from me. Her blonde hair comes to her shoulders, full-bodied and in big curls that look to be made of spun gold. Unlike my blue eyes, hers are a bright cerulean that could match the color of any crystal-clear Caribbean waters on a sunny day. She has a pert little nose and high, rounded cheekbones. Her lips are full and glossy pink, the color so tempting any warm-blooded male would kill to have a taste.

  I clear my throat and try not to look down at her form-fitting white dress. The sleeves are long, coming a tad past her wrists, though they’re the only long thing on the item of clothing. The hem of the dress hits just above the knee but climbs all the way up a lean, toned thigh when she sits and crosses her legs. She’s paired the dress with nude strappy stilettos, the kind that make a woman’s legs look a mile long. Problem is, on this woman, they are lethal since her genetics are such that her legs already go on for days.

  I press against my temples and sit back in my chair, then adjust my tie awkwardly with one hand since the other is bandaged. Outside of the bandage I have the two broken fingers splinted and taped together.

  “Mr. Ellis, thank you for seeing me. I’m happy you’re back early. The situation with my company is becoming dire. There’s not a moment to lose.”

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning and give me an idea of what we’re facing? Royce tells me you’re concerned that someone is stealing trade secrets and selling them to your competitors. Is that correct?”

  She nods. “Yes, but it’s more complex than that.”

  I frown and lean forward to cross my forearms on my desk. “How so?”

  “Not only have the last three products been stolen and released by my direct competitor two to three weeks earlier than our planned releases”—her mouth twists into a scowl—“but someone is sabotaging our work processes in the meantime.”

  “In what way?” My interest is piqued.

  “Software corrupted by viruses, files lost or deleted, seemingly out of nowhere. It’s as if the programs are under siege by a ghost in the system.”

  I dig back into my memory bank from my days at Harvard. “I’ve heard of this term, ghost in the system or ghost in the machine. Has to do with computer artificial intelligence or bugs of some sort coming about through errors in coding, right?”

  She nods and bites down on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure you can help with that threat. I’ve got the greatest minds in the industry working on the technology issues. Besides, my brother and I have written all the original code, but I do need to figure out the very real threat. Someone is sharing our product information, and after endless research and scrutiny of my team, I’m at a loss to figure out who it is.”

  I sit back and curl a finger around my chin. “The simplest explanation would be that both problems are being perpetrated by the same person, no?”

  She sighs and winces, following it up by arching her back. The move is designed to ease tension, but the shape her body takes is electrifying, especially in light of her jutting out her very large chest like a white flag waving in surrender. She eases back into the chair and crosses her legs to the other side. I swear I can hear the swish and glide of the fabric along her tanned thighs. The move sets my teeth on edge, and I mentally chastise myself. It’s only been three full days since I ended things with Skyler. Ended being rather questionable, since technically she’s still waiting for me to call her.

  While I’m thinking about my own personal problem, I scan the woman in front of me. My dick wakes up from its three-day sleep, and I lick my lips and focus on her face, tempted to look at her beautiful body once more, but knowing it’s not right. Lusting after a woman other than Skyler is absolutely not on my agenda.

  Regardless of what I said to Nate about things being over between me and Skyler, I need to tell the woman directly. It’s the only fair and honest thing to do. I can’t expect Skyler to be forthright and honest with me if I can’t be so with her. I’m just not ready to deal with it all yet. Saying goodbye. Letting her go. Allowing all that we built between us to just disappear.

  My gut churns, and my abdominal muscles tighten. I let out a heavy sigh while Alexis is none the wiser and answers my questions.

  “I guess it would make more sense if the two problems were related, but it’s just hard to believe that someone on my coding team could be part of that. Do something so blatant and behind my back to hurt me.”

  I huff and shake my head. “Well, I can tell you from personal experience, people are rarely what they claim to be.” And it’s as true today as it was when Kayla destroyed my heart, the feeling more intense now because of the deep connection I believed we had. I was stupid to believe that my relationship with Skyler would be any different. A downright fucking idiot.

  “That’s a very jaded way to view the people in your world, Mr. Ellis.” Alexis frowns.

  I cant my head and assess her piercing gaze. It’s as if she’s trying to look straight through me. I hate it. “Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of experience with people letting me down recently.”

  “People, or a woman you cared about?” She purses her lips and cocks an eyebrow.

  “Would it matter?”

  She lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “I guess not. Though, I’ve vetted my team to the extreme. Made them each submit to a lie detector test, which every last one of them passed. I’m at a loss for how to proceed. Which is where you come in.”

  I plant my elbows on the arms of my chair so I can steeple my fingers under my chin. It’s a move I’ve always subconsciously done but is now made difficult by my bandaged hand. I grind my teeth and remember why my hand is in this condition. Because the woman I love betrayed me and I lost control. Never again. I’ll never let my emotions control my decisions when it comes to the opposite sex. That particular boat has sailed.

  Alexis’s pretty pink lips curve up into a sensual pout. “Do you think you can help me?”

  I nod. “Yes, I believe we can, though it may take my entire team.”

  “In what way?”

  “You said you had your team vetted.” She nods as I continue. “That means whoever is doing this is cunning as hell. It could be anyone in any department leaking the trade secrets and only a handful of people dropping the viruses. Then again, we may have a team working together. One person doing the leaking, another accessing the system.”

  She grimaces and runs her hand through her long blonde hair. I loved running my fingers through Skyler’s locks. They always felt like silk. I wonder momentarily if Alexis’s hair is as soft as Skyler’s, then mentally slap myself for even thinking about Skyler.

  Focus on the work, Park. Not the woman.

  “What do you have in mind?” She brings my attention back to the matter at hand.

  “My assistant is a tech guru. We’ll bring her in as a new hire in your coding and analysis department. Royce will come in as an auditor in the finance department. Bo will act as a new, very hands-on client who wants an application developed. Something related to photography perhaps. Do you think you could swing it?”

  “Sure. There are a ton of applications you can create dealing with filters, lighting, sizing, instant editing, photoshopping. And you? What part will you play, Mr. Ellis?” She purrs my name as if it’s a
sensual treat she’s about to eat up.

  I ignore her. In another time, I would have been all over this woman like butter over a hot baked potato. With everything going on, though, I’m not sure how to react. I’m floundering between the professional and personal signs the sexy woman is tossing out. It’s an uncomfortable, disheartening sensation I’m not sure how to take.

  With a deep breath, I focus on the task. The work is what’s important right now. Not the lengthy looks or subtle flirting happening from Alexis.

  “I’m going to come in as a workflow-productivity consultant, which means I’ll have to interview every employee, ask them about their job, what they do, that type of thing. I’m very good at reading body language and an individual’s microexpressions. I can typically tell when someone is lying or being misleading. Plus, knowing you’ve got an auditor and a consultant digging into things might scare the person into making a mistake.”

  “Okay, how do we start?” She leans forward, and the material of her already-tight dress seems to expand further across her tits.

  Don’t look at her tits, Parker. Don’t look at her tits.

  Not cool, dude. Not freakin’ cool.

  However, I gotta admit to myself, she wouldn’t wear dresses like that if she weren’t expecting people to size up her form. My guess, with how comfortable she is and how tight fitting and short the dress is, she wants the attention. Possibly even craves it.

  A muscle in my temple starts to flicker, reminding me that I should not be ogling this woman, even if I may be ending my relationship with Skyler. I haven’t actually ended anything officially.

  My stomach tightens into knots again, but I breathe through it and stick to the work plan. “My first suggestion would be to have Wendy come on board immediately, as in tomorrow.” Her eyes widen briefly in what I can see is surprise, not complaint, so I continue. “We’ll have you implement her right away so there isn’t any suspicion of her position, and she can start connecting with the team and digging into your computer systems.”

  “Done.”

  “Next, we’ll have you bring Bo into a meeting of the minds, including your application creation team, and he’ll go over what he wants. He’ll make a show of wanting to be where the action is, and you’ll give him an empty office to work in.”