Crude Heir (Billionaire Heirs #3)

Chapter 7

Nicole

The elevator doors slide open on my floor. “See you later, Nicole,” Mike says as he continues on to the control room as I exit.

“You, too, Mike.” I give him a quick smile then head through the glass door into the familiar hallway to my office. The rhythmic click of my heels echoes in the empty corridor.

Most people aren’t due in to work for half an hour yet. Though I doubt many will be coming in. Apart from the smell of rain in the air, some may choose to add a day to the holiday weekend, which would suit me just fine.

I’m several paces in before I realize I’m still carrying my lunch bag. I stop and turn around, heading toward the break room, which is in the opposite direction. It’s nothing fancy, a plain ham and cheese sandwich, but I don’t want it to go to waste.

I earn enough here to afford something grander or to go to one of the restaurants in the tunnels, I prefer to pack my meal. This is a temp job, which can end at any moment. I’d rather save the money while I can, just in case. Besides, as muggy as it was this morning, it probably means the day is going to be horrible out.

I walk into the kitchenette, triggering the sensors which turn on the overhead lights. Opening the refrigerator door, I set my bag on the top shelf. It’s empty, except for an array of condiments, another reminder that most people are out today.

I consider making a pot of coffee, but it would likely go to waste. If ever there was a time I needed help to get going, it’s now. After staying up until the wee hours for two nights in a row, I need the caffeine boost to jump-start the morning. Instead, I turn to the cooler for a soft drink before heading to my desk. It’ll have to do.

As I near my office, the phone starts ringing. I quicken my steps and set my things down as I grab my phone.

“Hey, Nicole,” the familiar voice comes through the line. “It’s Mike again.”

“Hi.” I paste on a smile, the only way I can think of to try and keep the question out of my voice. Though I’m wondering what he could want.

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Oh…” I hesitate, pushing a stand of hair over my ear. “I—”

“There’s tacos in the kitchen up here, in case you’re interested.”

My shoulders relax. While it isn’t unusual to get word there’s food on one of the other floors, I’m not usually one to get a phone call. “Thanks.” I take a seat, intending to pass on the offer.

“Derrick was hungry and decided to order for everyone.”

“Derrick?” I run my teeth over my bottom lip.

“The director,” he clarifies. “Derrick Stockton.” He says it like he expects that any female in the company wouldn’t know the office hottie.

“I just…” I was biting my lip just thinking about him . “Didn’t think any of the managers would be in today.”

“Oh yeah,” he replies, understanding my supposed confusion. “Actually”—he lowers his voice—“he looks like he’s hung over or something. But he had a bad night.”

That sobers me up. Yes, from the sounds of it, he was going to have a long night. It seems silly that I’d want to check on him, but I do. “Okay, if there’s enough, I’ll head up.”

“There’s plenty of food. If there’s anyone else around, let them know,” he offers. “The messenger shows everyone as Away, so they may not be in yet.”

“It’s a little early for this department,” I confirm.

“All right. Then head up.”

“On my way.” I hang up and put my purse away before heading out to the elevator and going up to the next floor. I let myself in through the glass doors, and I’m met with the wonderful aroma of freshly made coffee.

Thank goodness someone took the initiative to turn on the coffee maker. It was a struggle to get out of bed at five a.m. to get to the office by my seven o’clock start time.

I round the corner to find a man at the counter. Derrick. Tall and broad shouldered, clad a black pullover and jeans instead of the button-down shirts and ties he’s been wearing lately. He glances over his shoulder at me.

“Morning.” His voice is even deeper than normal and rough, making my pulse flutter. Likely a result of him not getting much sleep.

My cheeks warm as I return his greeting. “Good morning. Did you, um, manage to get any rest last night?”

“Some,” he replies simply then turns to face me. His gaze lingers on me for a moment before he goes back to pouring his coffee. “How about you?”

“Yes, I was exhausted.” The only reason I’m early is that there was hardly any traffic on the highway, likely due to the upcoming holiday weekend. My usual drive was cut down to nearly half the time.

I shift my weight awkwardly, hyperaware of his attention focused on me.

Being around Derrick makes me inexplicably nervous, stirring up thoughts I really shouldn’t be having about him, or anyone else I work with. Poor guy, he was probably hunched over his computer half the night trying to fix the system failures the West Coast had last night. Meanwhile I was having wildly inappropriate fantasies about him.

I clear my throat, aiming for a light, casual tone that doesn’t give away my inner turmoil. “Well, hopefully the technical issues are all resolved now, and we won’t have any more disruptions today.”

Derrick doesn’t respond right away. He adds a splash of cream to his coffee then pulls a wooden stirrer from the container on the counter. It looks tiny and fragile trapped between his large fingers. “Yeah, I aim to make sure everyone is...satisfied,” he finally says, emphasizing the last word as if there’s some unknown meaning I’m missing.

Um… My brain immediately jumps to thoughts of my own satisfaction, and his part in it. An awkward silence hangs in the air between us. I rack my mind trying to think of something innocuous to say so I can escape this suddenly tense situation.

“Um, well I’ll let you enjoy your coffee in peace.” I grab the nearest taco, hoping the B/E on it means bacon and egg, then turn around. “I’m sure you have a busy morning ahead after working late last night.” I start edging my way around him toward the exit. With most of the staff out, it’s the perfect time for me to plow through all the backlog.

“Nicole.” His deep voice stops me in my tracks. I turn back slowly, watching him approach. His presence seems that much more alluring after the way I was imagining him a few hours ago.

“Yes?” I ask softly, cautiously meeting his intense gaze.

He glances briefly toward the open doorway before leaning in close, locking eyes with me. I’m frozen, pinned in place by his sudden nearness. Goodness, he looks more rugged than usual, and it suits him well.

“You don’t have to be nervous. Nobody knows what you did last night but me,” he murmurs. I swallow hard, skin prickling. “I like seeing the aggressive, hands-on side of you, but ending your day like that can take a lot out of you.”

My mind flashes back to the vivid fantasies I had about him. I bite my lip, cheeks flaming. He gives me a knowing look and a sharp nod then turns on his heel and walks away. I’m left standing there, heart racing, thighs pressed tightly together, wondering what exactly he was talking about.

* * *

Derrick

Human resources. It’s a big title and a huge responsibility for someone to hold every detail of a person’s history. Especially when the person in charge doesn’t take the time to create a strong password. Anyone with a bit of knowledge and the proper incentive could get in and do some damage.

It’s one of the things I’d like to bring up to Simon, not that he gives it a second thought. Though, right now, it’ll serve my purpose.

I click through until I get to Nicole’s file. It has all the paperwork one could expect to find. Name, age, date of birth, physical address. It’s her employment history I’m interested in. But a quick scan shows nothing out of the ordinary in her resume. High school, some college, clerking, an accounting firm, then here.

Would someone actually leave a position at an accounting firm to work at a staffing service? In essence, she left a full-time job to work as a temp. Was she looking to come here, specifically? If so, why? That just makes no sense. The entry-level position has her starting at the bottom. Hell, she’s running for coffee as well as covering her duties in accounts payable.

Although I didn’t find any links to social media last night, I log in to try again. Enough people come up to where I have to narrow the search down to our general area. Still, nothing comes up for this particular Nicole. I try again, this time looking for Little Nikki. This brings up both men and women, which takes longer to dig through.

The search ends up being fruitless. So unless she’s one of those people who only log into social media on her phone, she may not use any platforms. I didn’t find anything on her laptop to make me think otherwise.

It’s damn frustrating. What makes it worse is that I’m in short supply of patience this morning after a sleepless night. All because of Nicole…no, Nikki because, I still can’t connect one with the woman who wears proper, flower-print dresses, with the sexy kitten I got to see last night.

The memory of what Nikki was doing ran through my head all damn night. I closed my eyes, and all I could see was the profile of her body lit up by the laptop. Her fingers splayed across the generous mound, pressing into her skin, plucking at her nipple. Meanwhile, the other breast was bare, the hard tip pointing to the sky, begging to be sucked.

The lid pops off my coffee. I release the disposable cup before the contents end up all over my desk.

What I need is to get Nikki out of my head and to get some answers on Nicole. The answer comes to me in a flash. If anyone can dig up what I want, it’s my college buddy, Chase Reynolds, a high-class hacker turned businessman and professor.

I pull out my phone and find his name in my contact list.

It takes me a minute to try and figure out how to phrase my request without causing myself a problem.

Hey, Chase, how’s it going?

It isn’t long before he replies. Doing good. You?

I’ve got a problem and I could use someone with your experience. Much better than saying his skill set, in case he’s ever investigated for hacking…again.

Talk to me.

I need a deep dive into an employee at the company. Is that enough to have him understand I’m looking for something a standard background check wouldn’t pick up?

Send me what you’ve got.

I grab her name and social from her file and shoot it over to him.

Seconds later, I get a simple, I’ll get back to you tomorrow. Tied up at the moment.

No problem, man. Thanks.

Now I’m left to wait, with the rest of the day looming ahead of me. The office is half-empty, thanks to the holiday weekend coming up.

I should have stayed at the apartment and picked up on the game I was playing last night. But no, I have as much chance of having that distract me as the ambulance that went over the mountain in a fiery ball in the scenario I was trying to get through.

My thoughts turn to Addler. Did he start his hunt after all? I was so caught up with watching Nicole that I didn’t even think about him. I pick up the phone, find Addler’s number among the recent calls, and press the button to call him.

“Hey,” he answers, sounding surprised.

“Hey,” I reply through the static on the line. “Sorry. We’re having a storm up here. Power’s out in North Houston, so I figured I’d check in before things get worse.” The comment is true enough, but not what got me to reach out.

“We’re getting some of that here, too,” he replies.

“Did you go in after all?” I spent some time at that office when we were setting it up. Since they pulled people from all over the country, along with some new people, the group had no cohesion. Hopefully that’s improved over the last six months.

“Yes. I spent yesterday afternoon going over invoices with Elena.” Something about the way he says her name catches my attention. “We’re supposed to continue today and maybe through the weekend.”

“Look at you, actually doing work.” I laugh.

He scoffs. “I remember ending up getting stuck with you in a kitchen and doing dishes as your grandmother cracked the whip.”

“Oh man, that’s the stuff of my nightmares, the day-to-day of my childhood.” When you watch television, you get the illusion that all grandmothers shower their grandkids with hugs and cookies. Mine put me to work at the restaurant as soon as I showed up. She spent the rest of the day barking orders like a drill sergeant.

“I spent time running a chuck wagon to my grandfather’s standards, so go shovel that shit somewhere else.”

We laugh over the memory.

“Did you find anything?” I ask, getting to the crux of the issue.

“Nothing so far,” he says, sounding unperturbed. “I checked the list of projects against what you gave me, and everything at this ranch is accounted for.”

So, how is the money being funneled out? “I guess it’s a good thing,” I say with a bit of optimism.

“You’re sure you have money missing?” he asks again.

“Yes. The books don’t add up, but the billing codes changed, so I can’t follow the accounting.” I share what I’ve been told, with an annoyed huff. “What makes it worse,” I continue, lowering my voice, “is that they made the changes at different times, so you check one area, it changes on a certain month. You pick up another, and it’s a different cutoff. You have people who messed up codes along the way, or they moved and didn’t realize the new location was on a different timetable.”

“Oh hell, who thought that up?” he asks, annoyed.

One person comes to mind. “Likely my brother, the all-knowing CEO,” I reply in disgust.

“Have you talked to him about your concerns?”

“I tried, but apparently I should stay in my lane and leave the business side to him.”

“Fuck,” he spits out. “I have Elena reviewing the invoices with me. Why don’t you try finding someone to do the same?”

“Hmmm. I don’t have the de Marco name or the face that had droves of women in line to help you with homework and research and anything else you needed.”

He laughs into the phone, but he knows it’s true. There was a time he coasted due to a lot of support from the female population. But, after a semester at home, he came back different. It didn’t stop the girls from trying, but now he was intent on doing everything for himself. “It’s not like that.”

“You have an admin going in on a holiday and through the weekend to help you review.” I toss in an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t tell me, she’s looking at you longingly from her position on your lap.”

“More like, she looked ready to throw her mouse at me across the conference room table yesterday. And, so far, she’s a no-show.” It’s nice to know not every woman will put up with his crap. “I actually had to call her boss to make sure she hadn’t stood me up—”

“I like her already,” I cut in. “Though I’m surprised our guy down there would put up with that kind of attitude.”

“Nahhh. There’s history,” he admits begrudgingly.

History. Now my curiosity’s going. Could this be the reason he changed after going home? If so, life might be getting interesting for him in the near future. “Then she’s probably justified in wanting to throw something at you. I’m living proof you need to keep your personal life and work life separate, playboy.”

“It’s not like that.” Yet, the way his voice changed tells me that’s not true. “We went to school together.”

“Oh, then maybe I should go down there and meet her. Just the fact she’s ‘Elena’ and not ‘an admin’ is enough to pique my curiosity.”

“Why don’t you put your energy into finding someone who can follow the coding.” Not one to pass up a chance to get a jab in, he adds, “You should do okay. Nerds are in now.”

“Asshole,” I reply with good humor.

We’ve been friends long enough for him to know I get off on giving him a hard time because of the de Marco looks. I can’t complain; I’ve had my fair share of women. But none of them…my levity fades away on the heels of the thought. I usually end with none of them have caught my attention . Only that isn’t exactly true right now. “But yeah, there’s someone who comes to mind.” Someone I need to find out more about if I’m to get past this damn obsession.

“Gotta go, man. My girl’s here.”

Those are words I thought I’d never hear from the guy. More than ever, I’m convinced his change of heart all those years ago stemmed from whatever happened with Elena. “Good luck with your girl .”

Much to my amusement, he hangs up.