Crude Heir (Billionaire Heirs #3)

Chapter 2

Nicole

My gaze flickers across the parking garage to where Derrick Stockton is standing in front of a sleek, very-expensive-looking truck. It doesn’t seem like a chance meeting, so he must have opted not to use one of the conference rooms to talk to this man. It’s none of my business why. The simple fact the conversation is down at a whisper is enough to know it’s private.

I tighten my hold on the coffee containers and look straight ahead, nervously continuing through. The sharp click of my heels against concrete echoes in my head with every step. Don’t look , don’t look , don’t look. A nearly impossible task when you have not one but two extremely attractive men creating bookends along the front of the vehicle.

Of all the rotten luck, I had to come back now. But the boss likes his coffee from a particular shop on the other side of the downtown area instead of the location that’s around the corner. So I have to drive over and back, in one-hundred-degree weather, with a broken air conditioner in the car, fighting through downtown traffic, in each direction.

I duck my head continuing forward, as if I didn’t see them. If my hands were free, I’d pull my phone out and pretend to be engrossed in a call, just to avoid this awkward situation.

Feeling increasingly self-conscious, I quicken my pace, hoping to reach the elevator as soon as possible. Still, I’m conscious of their presence in the distance. Are they watching? Highly unlikely. Guys like that wouldn’t give me a second look. But that’s what I’m going for. I’m not supposed to cause a stir, so nobody will notice me, least of all him.

Derrick, known in the payment department as the office hottie, was brought in to do a system upgrade. Something Kelly Oil & Gas should have done years ago. He started out at the remote offices, upgrading systems and hardware, and worked his way to corporate. A place he was already known, considering he’s the son of the senior Mr. Kelly’s secretary.

I tighten my grip on the flimsy cardboard tray as I reach the elevators. If even a drop of the latte spills, there’ll be hell to pay once I get to Simon Kelly’s office. Jenae, his personal assistant, can be a real bitch. And it won’t matter one bit if that’s how the cup was served to me or if it happened along the way.

With three lattes in the tray, I’m hesitant to loosen my grip and have it tilt. Bending my elbows, I stretch out my index finger, aiming for the elevator button while simultaneously hoping I don’t end up with coffee all over my dress.

“I’ve got it,” Derrick Stockton’s deep voice comes from beside me.

I suck in a breath. Goodness, I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear him come up behind me. I need to pay better attention to my surroundings. If this had been anyone else, or at any other time of the day, the situation could have been dangerous.

With a smooth motion, he reaches past me, pressing the button for the elevator before he steps back. I turn, offering what I hope is a friendly smile and utter a polite, “Thank you.” Then I direct my gaze to the screen with the floor numbers.

In the weeks he’s been at the office, I’ve spent way too many hours thinking about him. While the occasional daydream may have gotten a little graphic, we’ve rarely gone past a brief hello as we ride the elevator.

“Sure thing.” As expected, short, curt, to the point. All at his usual level of aloofness. He tends to keep to himself, much to the dismay of the girls on the twenty-fifth floor.

I can always tell when he comes by. There is a flurry of activity, mostly glances in the mirror and retouching of lipstick. It is all in vain because he does little more than offer a greeting as he goes by.

Part of me thinks he keeps odd hours just to avoid ending up trapped anywhere with them. While the girls focus on his handsome face, I’ve had glimpses of something darker. I’ve dismissed it as annoyance at the seemingly unwanted attention, but I’m not really sure.

The chime announces the elevator’s arrival. The brushed steel doors slide open, and, with a sense of relief, I step inside and go to the far corner. I’m that much closer to having this moment over with.

But the relief is short-lived. Although Derrick is always serious, today is different. He steps into the elevator, and tension follows. It’s so strong, it envelops him, and me along with him, making the space feel smaller.

I glance up at him, registering the set of his jaw and the pulse of the vein at his temple. He’s angry. And angry men make me nervous.

“Executive floor?” he asks in a voice thick enough to knock over a tree.

“Yes, please.” I adjust the tray in my hands, willing it to hold for just a few more minutes.

He presses the button then, as usual, he focuses on his cell. The doors close and the proximity in the enclosed space, sends a shiver of awareness through me. We start the ride up, with a steady hum of the elevator. Normally, I’d just keep to myself and enjoy the quiet, but something tells me today isn’t a normal day.

The numbers light up, taking their sweet time to switch from one to the next. No amount of will or prayer will change that. We finally hit double digits on the panel. Only, to my dismay, I catch movement in my peripheral vision. He glances up, openly studying me—something he’s never done before. At least, not that I’ve been aware of. It’s like he suddenly realized I’m here, and that has the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.

A ball of anxiety ricochets within my chest. The air around us seems charged. Words. Small talk. It’s what people do in a situation like this. I try to avert my gaze, fighting the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. Being the focus of his full attention unnerves me. What caused it, when every other time I’ve been able to stay all but invisible to him?

Any one of the girls on my floor would give up a week’s vacation to be in my shoes right now. But the last thing I need is for anyone, especially someone linked to the executives, to take notice of me.

* * *

Derrick

The doors slide shut. I scroll through the inbox on my phone, stopping to look at a random email for a minute or two. It’s a general practice I use to avoid conversation when stuck in an elevator with somebody.

Although Addler’s parting laughter annoyed me, I can’t help but be intrigued. Who could have taken so much money from the company? And how did they do it? If the accounting staff, and Keith Kelly himself, didn’t realize this was happening, the person has to be very good at covering their tracks.

It wouldn’t take much to look into a few of these people to try and find something that isn’t mentioned in a background check. A quick swap on the link from the company’s home page, and I can get most people’s information without them realizing what they provided. I’m just not sure what I’m looking for.

I’m familiar with the execs at the top because they’ve been here since I was a teenager. The guys in the control room were a challenge, but once I got them to stop streaming live videos, they were okay. I set up the systems, my first major project when I came in, and they all have to do with well levels around the country. I don’t see how any of them would have access to the money that’s gone missing.

That takes me to the accounting department. The payment group is made up of women I try to avoid. None of them have been here more than a few years. Nobody stands out…except Nicole.

I glance up at the woman in question, watching her standing in the corner, trying to blend into the background, which bothers me.

On the surface, she seems quiet, polite, and unobtrusive. Everything I don’t look for in a woman. Yet, she managed to get in my head on day one. She’s so damn sweet that every time I catch sight of her, I want to corrupt her.

I tap the side of my phone as I try to figure out the best way to approach the situation. Considering what they do in her department, she’d touch thousands of transactions as part of her regular duties. So what now? It’s not like I can go up to her and ask if she’s taking home a couple of mil at the end of the month.

However, being that I’m in IT, I have a built-in reason to check her computer. Whatever the thief is doing has to leave a digital footprint. Though that brings me full circle. I’m back to not knowing what I’m looking for. Somehow, even if I go through everything she’s done, I don’t think I’m going to find anything.

The longer we’re here, the more my annoyance seems to build. I glance at the panel. We’re nearly halfway to her floor. Time’s running out, and I won’t find a better opportunity than this to set something up. She’s usually one of the last ones out, so I can make that work to my advantage.

I clear my throat, getting her attention. “Nicole, will you be working late?”

Her eyes open wide as she stares in my direction and nods. “Yes,” she whispers.

There she goes again, looking like an innocent young girl. I wonder if she’s aware of it, or if she just does it to irritate me. “I need to bring down the system.” I hold up my phone, as if I just received an email notification about it.

“When?” she asks, her brow wrinkling in dismay.

“At the end of the day.” That should be enough pressure to have her do what I want. But her shoulders droop, and I have a moment to second-guess myself.

“Oh drat.” She chews on her bottom lip and my mouth waters.

“Don’t you ever have something outside of work to keep you busy?” The words come out before I can think better of it. Why I would choose to ask that question is beyond me.

Her face flushes as she fidgets. “It’s a short week, and we have to get everything prepped to do a check run.”

“You’re working the holiday?”

She nods. “A few hours.”

“You can’t just work remotely?”

“It’s not something Mr. Kelly, um, the-the younger Mr. Kelly, allows.”

“Of course not,” I mutter. “It’s a stupid rule,” I snap. “Considering what you do, you have clearance.”

“I…I would think so.” She nods vigorously.

Having started the lie, there’s not much I can do except follow it through. The elevator dings, and I look over to confirm that we’ve arrived at the executive floor. I automatically jam my thumb on the button holding the doors closed.

She looks up at me with those big brown eyes full of innocence. “Um, this is my floor.”

I make the best of the few seconds I bought myself. “Do you have a computer at home?”

She nods. “A laptop.”

“I’ll email you a link so you can connect to the office from wherever you are.”

Then she chews her lip again. “I-I don’t know. I don’t want to end up getting caught when it’s not allowed.”

Maybe I should have waited and told her I was going to shut down over the weekend. Well, it’s too late now. “Do you want to finish everything on time or not?”

She bites down on her bottom lip. “But won’t I get in trouble?” Okay, she’s more of a goody-two-shoes than I expected.

“How about this? I’ll give you some time to work tonight, then I’ll remove the access.”

Concern is in her eyes. Much as she wants to, she can’t take the win and run. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to end up in trouble, too.”

“I don’t see how Simon could get any more pissed at me,” I mutter.

She ducks her head but not fast enough that I miss seeing her cringe. While I wasn’t here to see it happen, I’ve heard Simon had a fit when he found out he has a brother. Worse still, that my mother is his old man’s secretary.

“Don’t worry, I can arrange it. Trust me,” I add with a confident smile.

It’s not lost on me that after bitching about Mom, I turned around to manipulate the situation and push to gain her trust so I can get what I want. I suppose I am my mother’s son.

“Okay, Mr. Stockton. I appreciate it.” She nods, going on for a little too long.

I nod, satisfied that I was able to get her hooked. “I should have everything worked out in a couple of hours. You’ll have time to get home and have dinner. I just need your email.”

Nicole hesitates again before offering me the address, but as expected, she gives in. “Nicole dot Fuentes at—”

“No.” I stop her, recognizing she’s giving me her work email. “A personal email where I can send you a link so you can remote in.” Her demeanor changes now that things will progress off the company’s server. The flash of excitement in her eyes sends up a flag. Nobody should be that happy to be working after hours.

The doors open, and Simon’s secretary stands there tapping her foot, her lips pulled down in an annoyed expression. She catches sight of me and flashes a smile before turning to my companion. “Oh good. I was hoping it was Nicole,” she says, in an overly friendly tone that sounds like it’s as fake as her perfectly even teeth.

“Excuse me.” Nicole presses her lips together and gives me an apologetic nod as she goes by. She knows as well as I do that Jenae wouldn’t have been so charming if she’d been alone. There’s a reason she’s standing out in the elevator lobby.

“Shoot me a text and I’ll look into the problem for you,” I add, purposely delaying her an extra-few seconds as Jenae swipes her key card to get past the glass doors into the office area.

“I will, sir.” She pauses, forcing Jenae to stand there, holding the door, a tight expression on her face. “Right after I drop this off.” Her gaze shoots to the coffee she’s carrying.

Sir . I like how that sounds coming from her. “I’ll be waiting.”

With that, she turns away, leaving me second-guessing myself. As much as I hate to do this, if I’m going to try to investigate this, I should go talk to my mother. I make the decision, putting my hand on the door to hold the elevator. Since I’m on this floor, now’s the time to do it.

I catch up with the women as they enter the office space. They’re going left and I head right.

“Where’s my damn coffee?” Simon’s voice thundered from somewhere behind me. The entitled tone grating on my nerves.

After the crap I’ve had to put up with from him, and the fact he may have just roped Addler into an embezzlement issue, my temper flares. I’m not going to blow up in front of him. It would give him too much satisfaction to know he got to me.

“Nicole,” I snap, turning on a heel.

She comes to a dead stop, her back stiff. I pull the coffee holder from her hands as Jenae stands there looking on, a horrified expression on her face.

“The tray’s unstable,” she warns, frozen in place.

“I’ve got it. Go.” Nicole’s eyes widen, but she scrambles down the hall without hesitating. I pivot to face Jenae, her eyes growing impossibly wide as I hold out the tray. “Both hands.” She fumbles then holds out both hands. Once she has a firm hold on the tray, I release it. I pull a coffee off the cup holder and confirm the name Simon written in bold, black marker along one side.

“Um.” Jenae looks on with concern. “That’s—”

“Thanks,” I say, keeping a straight face as she stands there, unable to do anything to stop me. Then I turn to Simon, who’s still at the conference room door, his hand clutching the doorknob. His face is red enough to look like he has a bad case of sunburn.

I hold the cup up like a toast then turn back to head down the hall toward the CEO’s office, taking a long drink of the overly sweet concoction.

The bastard’s going to be furious. Here I go, taking yet another thing that he expected to be his. I couldn’t have set this up better if I’d planned it.

I cut to the right and go into the stairwell. As soon as the door closes behind me, I lean back against the wall. Switching to the messaging app, I call up my mother’s name. After a second’s hesitation, I type out my request.

Send me whatever you’ve got on the situation we discussed. I’ll work quietly and see if there’s anything I can find.

Satisfied, I hit send before I change my mind. If I’m lucky, she’ll do as I ask without giving me any problems.