"I might never speak to any of you again." Aubrie said.
"You got us what we needed." Mike reminded her.
"I'm out of the spy business for good."
"Yes, you are." John said, looking grim. "I didn't think the kid would go that far."
Aubrie studied John's face and realization hit her. He was going to blame himself for this forever. It didn't matter if he liked or hated her; he was going to feel like he'd failed her. And the guilt would eat him alive. That wasn't' going to happen on her watch.
She looked at Nicole and Mike said. "Get out."
"Excuse me?" Mike said.
"You heard me. Get the hell out of here, now."
"Aubrie, this is my off—"
"Get out. Now."
Mike looked at Nicole. "Feel like a doughnut from the lunchroom?"
"Sounds good to me." Nicole said, as she nearly jumped out of her chair.
"Close the door behind you." Aubrie demanded. The door closed with undue haste.
Aubrie waited for a few seconds, looking at the agony on John's face and her heart broke. "I complained too much." She said softly.
He shook his head, still staring at something on Mike's desk. "I can't believe I asked you to do that."
"You promised you'd be at my back and you were."
"You could have been—"
She didn't like thinking about could-have-beens either. "I wasn't, John. I'm here; I'm whole; I'm fine."
"Leah, I—"
"….don't want to talk about it. I know. You'll just eat yourself alive with guilt. Well, I'm sick of it. You weren't responsible for what happened to Randy and Leah. You aren't responsible for what that little pervert did. No one could have foreseen that the pimply little bashful kid was a lech."
"I should have."
Aubrie took a deep breath. "Let me ask you this."
He finally looked up and the agony in his eyes just about laid her low. "What?"
"Do you think Mike would have let me go out there tonight if he'd have foreseen this?"
"Of course not."
"Guess what, brainiac? Mike was all for this plan."
"He didn't know any better."
"None of us did. And guess what again? Mike and Nicole, who signed off on this, are not out there eating themselves up over it. They're just grateful you and your men were there. And so am I. And I'll tell you one other thing, and then you let this go or I'll kick your butt. If you asked me to do it again right now, I would. As long as I knew you were sitting on the other end of my lifeline."
He finally showed a ghost of a smile. "I don't deserve you."
"That's true. I'm a pretty damn good spy."
He laughed and then pulled her to her feet. "I'll concede the Putt-Putt issue, but honey, you suck at being a bimbo and you suck at being a spy."
"You flatterer, you."
It took over a month for the police to get all of their ducks in a row. Although everything caught on tape from Aubrie's foray into spying was inadmissible as evidence, they had gathered valuable information by keeping surveillance on the house where Aubrie had seen Alex receive the envelope of money—information that the police hoped would eventually help to make an airtight case against Alex and Michael. And then the wait began for Michael Cole to make his move. Finally, it happened. One Tuesday morning in a development meeting, Michael proposed a new antiaging cream, claiming he'd just invented the next best thing to face-lifts.
The waiting had taken its toll on Nicole, who desperately wanted this to be the answer to the mystery, and for her to be able to clear her name and the company's reputation.
She knew Mike believed her, and she adored him for it. Still, it was human nature, in her opinion, for someone falsely accused to want to be able to throw proof in the accuser's face that she was utterly innocent.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Michelle Mizanin had been almost nonexistent the last six weeks or so. Nicole had to wonder what the woman was up to. Both Mike and Aubrie had been strangely reticent about the whole thing.
Nicole called Mike after the meeting was over and when he answered, she said. "We've got him."
"Are you serious?"
"I have his proposal and his notes in my hot little hands."
"Okay, I'll call Cena, and he'll pull in the cops. Let's meet this afternoon."
"On one condition." She said. "I want Michelle there this time."
"We can't do that, Nicole."
"Why not?"
"She's not in town."
"Where the hell is she, Mike?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Is she in detox somewhere or something?"
"I can't tell you."
"No Michelle, no proof."
"Nicole, be reasonable. We need to move on this now."
"No. She's been accusing me from day one. I want to see her face when I hand her this file."
He paused. "I'll see what I can do. But it won't be until tomorrow."
"Fine."
"This is a mistake, Nicole."
"Why?"
"Because Michelle is a figurehead. I'm the one who runs this company."
"Find her and get her in there." And she hung up.
She locked the file in her floor safe, and then sat back. She was missing something here. What was it?'
Were Mike and Michelle at odds of sorts? Was he trying to take the company away from his sister? Lord knew they didn't spend much twin buddy time together. In fact, she'd never once seen them in the same room. It was either one or the other, like a tag team. Or was it—"
"Oh, my God." She whispered, as a ton of bricks slammed into her head.
She sat back a minute, just to make certain she wasn't losing her mind. Had she ever seen the two together? She racked her brain, praying to remember at least one instance when she had been in the same room with the two of them.
She couldn't recall a single one. Mike and Aubrie, yes. Michelle and Aubrie, yes. Mike and Michelle, no. Her face heated up as she thought about the times she'd been around Michelle, and no matter how aggravating the woman had been, she'd come away oddly stimulated.
She almost gagged, remembering her conversation with Aubrie, confiding that she was a little concerned about her strange attraction to Aubrie's sister. And Aubrie's reaction? She'd asked if maybe Nicole was attracted to Michelle because she looked so much like Mike.
She thought back to all the times that either Mike or Aubrie or both had made excuses for why Michelle was absent. And worst of all, she thought of all of the nights she and Mike had spent together, watching movies, making love, talking. And all of that time, he'd kept up the lie.
Their entire relationship was a farce. Had he sweet talked her into bed for a different purpose altogether? It hurt like hell to believe it, but she'd be a fool not to. She hadn't gotten as far as she had by turning a blind eye to lousy news. And this was as lousy as it got.
She felt used. She'd fallen for Mike so fast and hard that she hadn't stepped back to assess the situation. She'd blindly believed his words and his gentle touch. Oh, God, if she was right, she'd never feel that gentle touch again.
Nicole breathed in deeply. She couldn't think about the losses. She had to keep the anger flowing. He'd used her. He'd used her. He'd used her. Worse, she'd allowed herself to be used. There, that thought worked. She was furious at herself for being so stupid. Now to confront the man who'd duped her.
With a vengeance she unlocked the safe and snatched out the files, slamming them into her briefcase. She stalked out of her office, toward her secretary, who looked startled.
"I'm going out." She said.
"But your three o'clock."
"Cancel it."
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