Preamble Binds

by JazzyGirlFriday

After five years Jo Polniaczek returns to New York City and Blair Warner suddenly finds herself in a newly appointed corporate position. Relationships change over time...so do hearts. Jo and Blair are suddenly thrust into a tumultuous journey in learning about what they want in life and love.

9. Chapter 9

A quick thanks to Zebeza, my awesome Beta! Thanks for hanging in there with me this chapter. It was a lengthy one.

---

"I understand, but I have a board that's breathing down my neck... yes my neck... it's just a figure of speech it means... never mind. My board is getting anxious... yes, they need something of substance... something... a lead or... yes... alright... thank you, Arigato."

Blair tossed her phone across the desk; it slid, finally stopping under a few sheets of paper. "God this morning cannot get any worse." She pulled at her bangs in exasperation.

Her office door suddenly swung open without so much as a knock.

"Blair."

Robert.

She smirked. I stand corrected.

"Good to see you," he smiled as he closed the door then strode his way across the room and over to her.

Blair watched as he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Daddy told me you were dropping by," her voice carried a pinch of dread.

"Yes well," he got comfortable. "How's business?" Robert pulled at the sleeves of his suit, not bothering to look up.

"It's... going," Blair said. She turned her chair to face a large monitor. She had been looking over an IPO report. "I just got off the phone with investigations over there. No leads," she tossed over her shoulder; clicking through the file.

"Hmm, shame," Robert sniffed.

"Yes, it's... slow moving," Blair snuck a look at her menacing cousin. She could tell his visit wasn't all about the crisis at hand. "What brings you here, Robert?"

"Oh, I had a meeting with financial and your father." He placed his elbows on the chair arms and joined his fingers together.

Blair kept her eyes on the screen. "Really? What about?"

Robert stood up then moved to sit on the edge of the desk. He leaned towards Blair. "Before I answer that, would you mind telling me who that beautiful woman is you have out there in your lobby?"

He saw the slow head turn, Blair's eyes boring into his with a daring glare. He gave her a knowing smile. Gotcha! "Ah, wait, don't tell me... seeing as you have a type. She's just here for show," he purred.

"She's here because she's working on a project," Blair defended. She didn't need this.

"Project," Robert scoffed.

Blair faced him, annoyance written all over her face. "With me. And she's not my executive assistant." She didn't know why he needed to know that last part but...

"Who is she?" He knew he was being irritatingly persistent, but didn't care.

"Why do you need to know that Robert?" Blair looked at him defensively.

He shrugged. "I was thinking of asking her to lunch. Anything I need to know?"

"She's not interested," Blair turned back around, clicking on another screen.

Robert looked her over for a beat, gauging her body language - which was stiff and almost hostile. Uh huh... "How would you know?"

"Because I've known her for almost fourteen years, lived with her for eight and... I know," Blair snapped. She typed in a few characters.

"Wait... she's one of those girls you used to live with in Peekskill, right?" It started to dawn on him, and Robert rubbed his chin in thought.

He noticed Blair's lack of a response. Oh this is good. "I think I remember now. You used to go on and on about that girl from the Bronx. Man you would not shut up about her." He was smiling almost wildly now. "That's her isn't it?" He had only spoken with Jo briefly, but detected a bit of the peculiar accent.

Blair took a peek at him. "I have a business to run, Robert."

Robert shook his head. He lowered his voice as he leaned forward. "Tell me, Blair, does she know you have a thing for her?"

Brown eyes snapped up to bore into Roberts. "What the hell are you talking about? Jo's an old friend."

"Are you sure about that?" A wicked smile. Robert wiggled his eyebrows.

"Stop that."

Robert stifled a grin as he sat back. He noticed the blush covering Blair's face as she started typing furiously. "You don't have to look very far to see the evidence," he paused. "She's who you really want, isn't she?" A teasing whisper.

"You're crazy."

Robert chuckled. "Does Amanda know?" He placed his tongue in his cheek.

"They've met and everything went well. So drop it, Robert," she shot back at him.

Robert held his hands up in mock surrender. "I was just making an observation."

Blair turned, giving him a flash of a hard smile. "Was there something in particular you wanted?" You fucking weasel.

"Nope." Robert loosened his tie a little. "Just wanted to see how you were handling things. How has it been being head honcho?"

Blair smirked at him. She wasn't surprised he'd get to that. "Swell. And you never told me what you and Daddy discussed." She was going to hold him to that.

Robert let out a small laugh. "Oh, that's right, we're being more transparent, aren't we."

"I don't think that would be such a bad idea," Blair said evenly.

"The warehouses are still in ashes and no leads," Robert replied a little too quickly.

"I already knew that. Anything else I need to know?"

"That's all we talked about and since you're the connection over here for Matasuki, I'm sure he'll keep you up to date."

"He has," Blair said as she sat motionless; eyeing her aggravating cousin.

Robert clapped his hands together in finality. "Well then I guess there's nothing left to discuss." He slid off the desk.

Blair stood along with him, hoping he'd catch her gesture and head for the door. "How long will you be here?" She took a few steps forward.

Robert followed. "Oh, I thought I'd stay over for a day or two. Things are going great for the northern division, so I'm taking a small, much deserved break," he flashed a smile.

"How nice for you," Blair knew she sounded condescending and didn't care.

Robert took it as a slight and peered at Blair with an air of quiet distain. "Don't tell me it's not all fun and games being president."

Well, well. Took you long enough. "Not all of the time but..." she paused for effect, "I wouldn't trade it for any other executive position."

Now THAT was a slight, and Robert's face dropped at the affront - much to Blair's internal delight.

There was a tap on the door. "Blair?"

Bad timing, Jo. Blair felt the alarms go off when she saw her cousin's eyes light up at the sight of the brunette. In that moment she realized she needed to get him back on a plane to Tokyo as soon as humanly possible.

She decided, instead, to control the situation. Play along. "Jo, have you met my cousin Robert?" she said with a cool smile, pushing him on the shoulders in order to casually guide him through the door.

"Hi, nice to meet you," Jo said, her smile faltering a little, giving the two of them a curious look.

"Hello there. Blair's told me so much about you," Robert said, letting a lazy smile slide onto his face. He pushed back on Blair, while his eyes roamed Jo's face.

"She has?" Jo lifted a brow, glancing at Blair who was doing her best to remove the man from the room.

"Robert was just leaving," Another shove. She had almost gotten him out of the door.

Robert decided to have a little fun at Blair's expense and actually laughed as he was being formally tossed out. "Was I?"

Blair managed to get him out in the lobby, leaving Jo standing in her office. "Yes, and please tell my father I'll be speaking with him about your division later on today."

She twisted around, hand on doorknob. "One second Jo, excuse us," then slammed the door.

"But I barely got to know your friend," Robert mocked whined.

Blair grabbed him by the elbow guiding him toward the elevator. "Please leave," she pushed the down button.

"What are you afraid of, Blair?" he whipped his arm from her grip.

Blair remained stoic as she waited for the elevator to arrive. She pretended to check her watch, then flipped her hair.

"I should've known," he eyed her, "Oh this is priceless," Robert said hatefully, as a knowing smile etched his face. "You don't want her to know, do you?"

The elevator door pinged as it slid open. Finally. "Your carriage awaits," Blair motioned for him to enter the steel box.

Robert ignored her. "She doesn't know about your... tendencies, does she?" he glanced at her office door.

Blair huffed, then pushed her cousin into the elevator. "And she's not going to from you! Now leave, Robert!"

He allowed himself to be pushed, all the while laughing as Blair reached in and pressed the lobby button. "Oh, this is just perfect," he sniped.

The doors started to close and Blair let out a sigh of relief. "Please go," she said it in an almost small voice.

"If I were you, I'd be nicer to me." Robert's face looked spiteful as the doors slid together.

---

Natalie had been standing in front of the giant oil painting for the last ten minutes. It was huge and very blue, with a splash of gold. There were swirls and other confusing brush strokes. She craned her neck to read the title: "Blue sea in the morning." Okay, it could be. There are a lot of long lines and blue, blue, blue everywhere - that could be the sea.

"Hello."

Natalie was startled out of her assessment. She turned to see a dark haired woman smile as she stood beside her, admiring the painting.

Natalie gestured toward it. "Interesting, uh... movement." So I suck at art speak. She shrugged to herself at that.

"Yes, it's one of Hoffman's lighter works," the woman commented.

"Ah, yes. Loved his stuff for years," Natalie lied.

The brunette looked at Natalie a bit puzzled. "He's actually debuting his work this weekend... one of our newest artists," she informed.

Oh, right. Natalie covered her faux pas by offering her hand and a tight smile. "Natalie Green."

"Amanda Palmero," she shook Natalie's hand. "I'm the head curator here," she informed.

Oh, here we go. "Nice to meet you."

Amanda smiled. "Are you interested in his works? Or..."

Natalie laughed a little nervously, "Oh, no I'm just browsing... looking. I'm looking and... feeling." Feeling?

Amanda looked at her with a skeptical eye. "I see. Well if you should need anything," she smiled then started to turn away.

"Actually, I was wondering if you except donations." It was all Natalie could come up with, thinking quick on her feet.

"Yes. We are always open to donations," the brunette brightened.

"Oh, good." Okay Green where the hell are you going with this? "I… is there a donor's list?"

Amanda nodded affirmatively. "There is," she paused. "Did you have a specific amount you wanted to donate?" she asked.

"Yes. Well," Natalie thought for a moment. "I'm sure you have a lot of private donors," she mentioned.

If anything was ever evident, Natalie actually understood the nature of the art business when it came to private dealings. Especially when it had to do with potentially large sums of money. Blair had trained her well.

Amanda drew in an understanding breath. "Privacy is very much understood here. If that's what you prefer," she offered.

"I would. I mean, I can only imagine if say, a major corporation were to donate a large sum of money to an art gallery." Okay, that was a bit murky she realized, though a not so subtle question.

Brown brow's knit in puzzlement. "I'm not following."

"Well, like one of the financial, uh places." Smooth Green. Natalie did an internal eye roll at herself.

Amanda decided to address the question directly. "We have a few donors from that sector."

"What about say... commodities?" Natalie asked.

"Commodities?"

"Yeah. You know," Natalie cleared her voice, "plastics, rubber, uh, cotton, filaments, fur skin, um… special woven or tufted fabrics?" You can stop me at any time.

"I see," Amanda gave the rambling woman a blank look. "Do you mean textiles, perhaps?"

Natalie held up a finger. "Ah, that's the name I was searching for. Yes!"

"Well, in that case, we do have a major donor from that sector, as well."

It was the opening she was looking for. "Let me guess... Warner Textiles?" Natalie watched as the curator absorbed that. The woman had such a humorless look on her face.

"I'm really not allowed to divulge that information."

"Oh well, I was just wondering because I have a friend who works there who just loves art and, well, I'm sure if they knew of this gallery they would be willing to give a couple of bucks or something," Natalie finished. She'd laid the hook out and was now waiting for the bait to be taken.

"Really. Who is this friend of yours?" Amanda asked. Her interest was genuinely piqued.

"Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't want me to expose their identity," Natalie replied surreptitiously. Here fishy, fishy, fishy.

"Of course," Amanda smiled.

"But, because you said you understand privacy, I'm sure I can trust you to keep her name private," Natalie pressed.

Amanda hiked a brow. "It's a woman?"

"And not just any woman. She's a very close friend of mine." There. That needed to be clear, she thought to herself.

"You're going to make me guess... I really have nothing to go on." Amanda tried to reason.

"Blair Warner. President of the... place," Natalie blurted.

Amanda remained silent. She already found Natalie quite peculiar; not to mention the mere mention of knowing Blair and being a friend of hers was something she didn't anticipate. She flicked her gaze over the chatty woman. "Is that so?"

Natalie indulged the curator. "Have you two met?"

"Yes. Actually I know Blair quite well," Amanda blinked then smiled pleasantly.

"Oh, well then. Wow! What a small world huh?" Natalie felt like she was on a bit of a roll now.

Amanda looked at the reporter with a stealthy grin. "It is indeed. How long have you known Blair?" She tilted her head in question.

"Oh, thirteen, almost fourteen years. We used to live together." Natalie saw the curator give her a startled look before covering it up. Okay, maybe a better choice of words.

"Really?" Amanda questioned.

Oh, pffft, sorry, that sounded weird. Allow me to clarify. We were roommates for eight years."

That didn't seem to help the situation as the woman before her had an even more concerned look on her face.

Natalie cleared her throat. "Okay, let me try that again. We went to school together."

"Oh, of course," Amanda nodded slowly; she seemed to be in thought, Natalie observed.

"How long have you known Blair?" Natalie decided to turn the tables.

"Not long. Would you like me to give you a tour?" Amanda sharply answered.

Natalie didn't expect the abrupt cut-off of their conversation. "Yeah, sure. That would be great." She almost felt like she was shoved out of it as the curator indicated the hall containing a multitude of oil paintings.

"Wonderful. Just let me make a call and I'll be right with you," Amanda smiled as she began to walk down the hallway toward her office.

"Sounds great," Natalie retrieved her cell then quickly dialed a number, watching as the woman turned the corner.

Who does she remind me of?

---

"One minute, Jo."

They had been going over the most recent financial reports when Blair's phone suddenly chimed. She looked at it, seeing Natalie's name. "Hello, Nat?"

"Blair, just listen, don't talk. I'm down at the art gallery, uh, VillaManzi, don't talk, just listen. I met the curator here, Amanda Palmero; she said she knows you. I said I know you, we went to school together and I promised you'd donate a few dollars to the place."

"Nat."

"Don't talk! She's probably going to call you to verify. I'll explain later. Just write them a check, Okay? Okay. Something over five hundred dollars, I don't know, don't worry I'll pay you back... don't hold me to that. Oh and Tootie owes me twenty dollars, she said you'd stay married to Cliff for a year, I said yeah right. We both saw the article in the Times, so it was no surprise when you texted us - that was all just for show. I'm glad to finally get that off my chest, I'm hanging up now."

Jo noticed the utterly bewildered look on Blair's face and hid a chuckle. Natalie could be a bit much sometimes. "Was that Natalie?"

"Yes. Um..." Blair blinked; another call had chimed her phone. It was Amanda.

"Hello?"

"Hi Blair."

"Hi. How are you?" Blair flicked a quick look at Jo who was busy writing in her pad.

"Great. Look I have something I need to ask you."

"Alright," Blair turned her chair around toward the window; her back to Jo.

"Do you know a woman by the name of Natalie Green?"

"Yes. Why?"

"She said she knew you."

"Okay," Blair let out an annoyed sigh.

"She also said you were interested in donating a sum of money to the gallery."

So I was warned. "Yes, well, she and I both share an appreciation for the arts and I may have mentioned that I give a few dollars every year," Blair covered for herself.

There was a brief pause then, "She said you two went to school together?"

"Yes we did. Is there a problem?" A blond brow hiked in question.

"No, no. It's just you never told me about her."

Blair turned back around to see Jo patiently waiting. She gave the brunette a wavering smile. "I really can't talk right now."

Amanda cleared her voice. "You're in a meeting, I'm sorry. Look... I'll call you later."

"That would be fine. Goodbye," Blair briefly closed her eyes then picked up her pad, giving Jo a pleasant smile. "Now, where were we?"

"Expanding manufacturing in the south pacific region, more revenue for production," Jo read from her note pad.

Blair nodded. "Yes. Okay. Well, the reason is because we have high demand there, so it makes sense to increase labor and expand the product," she explained.

"What about cost of goods?"

Mmm, very good question, Jo. Blair flashed a quick smile at that. "Well, if you look at the report for last month compared to the six previous months, there is a steady up-tick in sales revenue."

Blair turned and flicked on her monitor. The huge screen brought up the same page she was viewing on her pad. She pointed to the lines on the graph for Jo to follow.

"See there? That represents at least half our business cycle - two quarters of positive revenue. This indicates we have a sustainable market for the products we sell there. Which usually means cost won't be compromised."

Blair turned back around and was a bit startled to see an amused look on Jo's face. She was giving her a most open look. Admiration? Maybe. Whoa... that would be a first. It made her feel almost shy. "What?" Blair dropped her gaze a little.

Jo wore a lazy smile. "You know, I never really realized..." She trailed off, not really sure what she was about to say.

Blair peered up at Jo through her eyelashes. "Realized what?"

"You really know your stuff." It was a soft compliment, and even though it was quite true, Blair didn't realize it would send such an absolutely thrilling feeling down to her toes. She took in a quick breath.

"I... oh. Yes." A shy chuckle. "Well..."

They let the moment linger. Not really needing to address the simple fact that they didn't just let anybody become the head of a major corporation. Of course you have to know your stuff. And then some…

But it was nice that someone noticed.

Blair closed her pad and looked at Jo. "So is that all?"

"Yeah. For now." Jo scribbled a few more notes then stood. "I'm just going to do some work from this and then I'll leave for the day."

She gave Blair a lingering smile, then turned and made her way across the room.

"Okay." Blair sat back in her chair watching the brunette as she reached the door.

She looks good in her suit today, she observed. She watched as the muscles in Jo's arm flexed as she gripped the doorknob. Her shirtsleeves were rolled up; which was something Jo did when she was ready to get down to business... Blair decided she liked that look, very much.

Jo closed the door behind her and rounded her desk - taking a seat. She flipped open her laptop and dialed Natalie's number; keeping her head down.

"Green."

"Where are you?"

"I can't talk right now. I'm going on a tour of the VillaManzi art gallery," Natalie smiled into the phone; putting on an appearance of innocence.

The reporter stood in the back of a small group that Amanda had gathered together to give a presentation in one of the wings of the gallery. The featured artist was some guy by the name of Brown.

"You're with Palmero?" Jo asked.

"Yes."

"Nat, be careful."

"Don't worry. All is well."

Jo smirked, Natalie's cover voice needed work. "Alright. Talk to you later."

---

Amanda had led the small group of seven people to gather around a tall sculpture. It was inside a protective glass casing, and she was giving them a full description of the piece, including the background of the sculptor himself.

"And as you can see, Brown wanted the spectator to really feel the element. Literally hands on," the curator gestured toward the figure.

"Can we touch it?" a woman asked.

Amanda smiled at her. "You sure can."

She reached into her pocket to retrieve a key to the glass door lock. As she did, a plastic card fell to the floor and slid to the back of the room, where Natalie stood. No one seemed to notice as they had all gathered closer to the sculpture.

Natalie picked up the card, turning it over. It seemed to be a door key.

What is this? She turned it over. The Verona Place. Huh. That's Blair's building. Natalie glanced at the curator who was busy showing the piece.

Maybe she lives there, too. Could be that's how she knows Blair... No, she said they met at a gallery party. Blair's been at Verona for five years. She would've at least bumped into Amanda... unless Amanda just moved there. I better get confirmation from Eric.

"Natalie?"

"Yes?" Natalie looked up to see Amanda and all seven spectators looking at her.

"Would you like to feel Brown's latest piece?" Amanda coerced. She waved Natalie over toward the sculpture.

"Okay, sure," Natalie discreetly tucked the card into her pants pocket as she walked over. She looked at the figure. It was of a giant fish intertwined with an anchor. The gills apparently were the most life-like feature of the piece. She ran a fingertip over the surface.

"Oooh, nice texture!"

---

"You wanted to see me?" David Warner stood in the office of the head agent.

Eric nodded, "Have a seat, Mr. Warner."

David did as he was told. His forehead crinkled with anticipation as he kept a skeptical eye on Agent Eric Nelson.

Eric placed his elbows on the desktop, his hands clasped together. "We have a situation."

"What kind of situation?" David asked, then held up a hand. "Wait. Before you answer that, just be direct with me, don't beat around the bush."

He was tired, and exceptionally weary of the whole investigation. So far any leads they had on the warehouses had run into a wall; and that meant they had no new information to go on. As far as he knew.

"Alright. As of three PM yesterday afternoon, your offshore account was gravely compromised."

David slid slightly to the edge of his chair. "I've asked you to be blunt with me," he reiterated.

Eric nodded. "The money's gone," he stated flatly.

David Warner sat in silence for a bit. He could feel his temper rising; yet he strangely wasn't surprised at the news. He took in a breath. "What happened?"

Eric leaned back. He expected an angrier reaction from the CEO. "We've ran analytics several times. We have no trace as of now."

David frowned at the news. Dammit Robert! What the hell did you do? "That's the best you can come up with?! My God man! I trusted you to keep it guarded!"

Eric couldn't argue with the man. "Believe me, we are just as much surprised by this as you are, Mr. Warner. I assure you my agents are at the Warner Building right now checking that side of things."

Eric kept his voice steady and calm. Warner was becoming more and more rattled, and who wouldn't be? A lot of money just up and disappeared.

"And?!" David barked.

"Nothing. No leads so far," Eric sounded slightly defeated, which rubbed his client the wrong way.

"How the hell can this happen?!" David was feeling beyond inconsolable now.

Eric shook his head. "I don't know." It was the truth. No matter how many times he'd ran the numbers, looked at the timeline and even drilled the bank: nothing.

David was on his feet now. He approached Eric's desk, looking down at the seated man. "Who did this?! YOU HAVE TO FIND OUT!" He pointed a finger at him.

"Sir, I'm going to ask you to calm down now," Eric peered up at David, he held a serious look on his face.

David dismissed it. "You calm down! I've just been robbed!"

He turned and took out a handkerchief, wiping his mouth, then putting it back in his suit pocket.

The room was still for a moment, save for the enormous stress that was piling up on the frustrated CEO.

Eric stood from his desk then walked over to David. He put his hands in his pockets and let out a breath. "I'm sorry." It wasn't much but it was true.

"You're sorry?!" David threw a cutting glance at him. "Is that all you can say? I trusted you to get to the bottom of this and all you've done is managed to waste my time and allow my company to be fleeced!"

He fully faced the agent now. He was sweating and his face was turning bright red.

Eric watched as the man loosened his tie. "Are you alright, Mr. Warner?"

"Of course I'm not alright!" David eyed the man in front of him. "You probably know my nephew is the only other person with access to that account, right?"

"We do. We did a thorough background check on him," Eric informed.

"And?"

"He's clean. There is no evidence he was the one to remove the money."

David grunted. "I'll just bet he wasn't," he muttered.

Eric arched a brow. "Come again, Mr. Warner?"

Eric watched him; reading his body language. David Warner was in shock and wound very tight. Regardless, they couldn't risk him doing anything erratic.

David ignored the agent's inquiry. "Never mind that. I'll just have to take things in to my own hands!" He started to move swiftly towards the door.

"Sir, that is not a wise thing to do. We have an investigation going on!" Eric's voice rose. The last thing they needed was a potential breach in the investigation because of a rouge informant. "Sir!"

David yanked the office door open. "Screw your investigation! This is MY company!" He slammed it shut after him.

Fuck it!

Eric ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He went back over to his desk and brought up the offshore account on his screen. Leaning back he rolled through the transactions. The money had been in there, then it simply disappeared. There was no trace of a transaction - just there one day, gone the next. It was perplexing.

He sighed then tapped a device on his desk. "Jo?"

"Yeah, hold on." There was the clicking of computer keys for a moment. "What's up?"

"I'm going to need you to tail Warner." Eric said. And he didn't feel like rehashing what had just transpired between him and David Warner. They needed to move forward.

Jo slowed her typing. "What do you mean, tail Warner?"

"I mean keep tabs on him. I just told him about the account. He's livid; mentioned taking things into his own hands."

Oh boy. Great. "Where is he now?"

Eric brought up another screen and viewed it. "Just left the parking lot. Hold on. Turning on Main... looks like he may be heading back to the Warner Building. He knows we have a trace on him."

"Okay, I'll try and reason with him when he gets here."

"Do that, report back. And if you see his nephew, engage him if you can. I don't know much about this guy's character, but David Warner doesn't seem to have much faith in his own nephew."

Robert.

Jo had sensed he had an interest in her, much to Blair's detriment. Interesting. She could use that to her advantage. She was sure he was still in the building somewhere. Perhaps she could arrange to bump into him.

"Will do."

---

"So I have this dilemma."

Natalie was twisting back and forth in her swivel chair. She was on a lunch break and had decided to Skype Tootie, who was also on a lunch break. She looked around her cubicle area, then stood up, looking out over the ocean of cubicles in the office space where she worked.

It was fairly empty, save a few reporters who had also decided to eat in for lunch.

Sitting back down, she pulled a corn chip out of a bag on her desk and crunched it.

"Nat, make it quick, I only have twenty minutes before I have to be back on stage," Tootie took a bite of her deli sandwich.

"Okay, Okay. Listen."

"I'm listening!" Tootie said around the sandwich as she chewed.

"What would you do if say, you found something that needed to be returned."

Tootie stopped chewing then took a swig of pop before swallowing. "Needed to be returned. I need more to go on Nat, like... what exactly needs to be returned?"

Should I just tell her? No, this is classified information. Make it seem like your working on a story. "I'm doing a story on this woman who found a stolen key."

Tootie frowned. "Stolen key?"

"Yeah, you know, one of those plastic door keys you slide into the door lock thingy."

Tootie nodded in understanding. "Ohhh, yeah. What about it?"

"Tootie," Natalie smirked.

"What?" She took a large bite into her sandwich.

"Pay attention! Do I give it back or try and find out what door it opens?"

"howp woo ou noff wha doorf iff ofens?"

"What?"

Tootie finished chewing then slurped the last of her pop before letting out an, 'ahhhh' "I said, how would you know what door it opens?"

Natalie accepted that. "That's just it, I don't."

"Well... I think you should turn over all your rocks and find out," Tootie picked up a potato chip, smelled it, then crunched it.

Natalie chuckled. Her best friend... she suffered from theatrical poisoning. "You mean leave no stone unturned?"

Tootie realized her faux pas; she waved around a couple of chips for effect before she ate them. "Yeah."

Natalie sat back in her chair - the steel and plastic screeching as she did. "You ever have a hunch about something, Tootie? You can't quite shake it, can't let it go until you..."

"Leave no stone unturned?" Tootie cracked a knowing grin.

"Yeah..."

"Nat?"

"What?"

"Go do your job."

---

David Warner sat at his desk, his head in his hands. He was worn out and, quite frankly, a little scared. He hated losing control, and even more losing a load of money. What the hell do I tell the board? And Blair...

It simply wasn't acceptable.

That's what he had told Jo after running into her when he stepped off the elevator. He expected that; no doubt Eric had sent her.

She had done the one thing that helped ease, if not his anger, his worry over the lost money...

She listened.

They'd sat in his office for forty minutes, while Jo listened to him ramble, yell, and bloviate about his company, his money and his family.

Jo had suggested they all get together for dinner and that suggestion was enough to strike David Warner silent for a few seconds. He sat and thought about that. They hadn't had dinner as a family, together in a while - Russell's funeral didn't really count as Joyce wasn't able to attend dinner, but...

Tonight perhaps was the right time to just, be a family. Robert was in town, so why not?

He had called Blair into his office, and she entered the office with a skeptical look on her face. She sat before him, a bit skeptical at his obvious 'put on' easygoing attitude.

He knew about her dinner with Jo last night, and was quite pleased to know they were mending fences. He was used to their regular ongoing cycle - fight, ignore, make up. Rinse and repeat.

"How'd it go last night?" David asked, genuinely interested.

Blair adjusted in her seat. "Dinner with Jo? Fine." You didn't call me in here to ask me that, did you?

"I figured it had to be pretty serious. Truce perhaps?" David smiled carefully.

"No truce necessary, Daddy. We just cleared up a few misunderstandings."

"Well, it was serious enough for you to put a few things on hold," David said.

Blair looked at her father. "Did someone say something?"

"Yes. Mara Miller said you cancelled on her; and you rescheduled the specialties product line presentation. I thought you wanted to get her views on shaping the department leads," David said.

"I did, I do, I mean... I still do. Jo and I just needed to clear the air on a few things," Blair said in her own defense.

David nodded, "I can understand, seeing that you're working together now. I assume you two are going to make it through to the end of the project?"

With or without maiming each other, Blair let out an amused breath. "We're fine." She pretended to dust something off her knee.

"Good. In that case I want you to have dinner with the family tonight... at the mansion," David tossed out.

Blair gave him a quizzical glance. "Any particular reason?" That came from out of nowhere.

"Can't I have dinner with my daughter without any suspicion?" David asked smoothly.

Blair squinted at her father, trying to gauge him. "As long as I don't have to answer questions about my private life, very well. What time?" she asked.

David smiled wide. "Seven-ish."

"I'll be there," Blair said. "Anything else? I need to get back." She threw a pointed thumb over her shoulder.

David stood, watching as Blair did the same. "No, no that's all," he smiled at her. "See you this evening."

"Bye, Daddy." Blair padded her way across the room and left, shutting the door quietly.

The smile fell from David Warner's face as he picked up his cell phone and tapped it a few times.

The line picked up. "Uncle."

"Dinner at the mansion tonight. Be there at seven," came the harsh order.

"Can't. I have a date."

"Cancel it. This is urgent."

"Sorry, Uncle David, no can do."

That was unacceptable. "Don't play games with me. You have your ass at the mansion tonight!"

A chuckle. "Or what? Huh? You'll terminate me? You can't do that."

"Watch me!" David spat.

"Oh that's rich. I guess you're forgetting about your promise to my father."

The line was empty for a moment, a bit of static the only noise.

"That's better, I thought you'd remember you can't fire me."

David held the phone tight to his face. "But I can make your life a living hell."

"Tsk... now why would you want to do that? Huh? I'm sure Blair would just love to know how all those millions of dollars happened to show up in the offshore account."

It was the card David was wondering when Robert would put into play. Funny though, that he would mention that. "You moved it."

"You told me not to."

"I'm not asking you."

"Well, then no I haven't."

"Liar!"

There was a shuffling noise, then, "What exactly are you getting at, Uncle David?" Robert's voice held a note of concern.

"Stop being deceitful with me. Where did you hide it?!"

Robert was quiet for a moment. "Hide... wait. Where's the money?"

"That's what I'm asking you," David switched the phone to his other ear.

"Are you saying it's no longer in the account?"

"Are you trying to convince me you don't know?" David asked, his face fell with uncertainty.

"Wha... shit! Are you serious?!" Robert sounded panicked.

"Robert, what the hell are you saying here?" David was struggling to keep himself calm.

"What the hell are YOU saying?! Where the hell is the money, Uncle David?!"

David swallowed nervously. Unbelievable. "You think I'm falling for this? You tell me what you did with it!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about! Oh my God!" Robert shouted.

David wasn't buying it. "Robert! Where the hell is the money?!" A fist pounded his desk.

"I don't know!" The line was full of heavy rapid breathing; Robert let out a squeaking noise.

David blinked, then rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "You're serious."

"What the hell do you think?!" Robert struggled to catch his breath. "I didn't take it." He managed to get out.

"Then who the hell did?" David's voice sounded rough. He felt lifeless and almost defeated now; not getting even close to an answer from his nephew.

Robert gathered himself together, suddenly remembering his plans for the evening. "Look, um... I'll stop by later for drinks..." he conceded quietly.

"Alright." David let out a long breath. "Robert?"

"Yeah?"

"We need to get to the bottom of this. I don't want to discuss it over the phone."

"Like I said, after dinner, I'll stop by."

Fair enough. "Okay."

Robert hung up, and David looked at his phone, tapping it to close his side of the line. He stuffed it back in his pocket; then turned to face the windows behind his desk. He looked out over the expanse of the numerous buildings with a heavy feeling. It was time to get to the bottom of this.

---

Milo's Italian Restaurant was one of the more upscale and expensive restaurants in the city. It was located in the most distinguished and posh part of Upper East Manhattan.

Robert addressed the Maître d, then was quickly escorted to his table where he was pleasantly surprised. His guest had arrived early.

She looked nice, he noticed. A pleasant cotton dress; her hair was down and she wore a bit more makeup than when he'd first met her.

Looks like someone's trying to impress. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting." He took a seat, his eyes never leaving those of his tablemate.

She smiled at him. "I haven't been here long."

"Good. Have you ordered wine?" he asked.

"No, I was just browsing the menu."

"Allow me," Robert gave her a confident smirk, then snapped his fingers at their waiter before he passed by their table. "Waiter, here!"

The waiter frowned slightly, but made his way over to their table. "Are we ready, sir?" he addressed Robert directly.

"Yes. Let's start with a bottle of Venica Ronco delle Cime," Robert said, while taking the menu from the woman and handing it back to their waiter.

"Very good, sir. I'll be back to take your orders."

Robert nodded, then addressed his 'date.' "I have to admit I was a little surprised when I ran into you in the lobby." He leaned forward placing his forearms on the table.

"They let me take a few breaks every now and then." A smile. "It hasn't been all work, work, work."

"Good to know my cousin isn't a slave driver," he flashed a toothy smile at her.

"No, she's been pretty good at juggling her job and dealing with me." It was an honest reply.

Robert lifted a brow. "Oh? Do the two of you not get along?"

"We've had our moments." Was all that was offered.

Interesting. "So tell me, Jo. How is it that a beautiful woman like you hasn't been linked to any eligible bachelors around town?"

"Ah, you've done a little homework on me." She gave him a polite smile.

Jo gauged the man in front of her. He was obviously interested, and she would use that to her advantage. It was her job, and lord knows it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to use her feminine wiles to her advantage. Robert Warner was hungry for power, and Jo assessed that his thirst for leveling the playing field against Blair was also his main goal.

"I've just been so busy lately... since I've moved back to New York," she finished.

Robert looked at her closely. "Too busy, you say."

Jo nodded. "I've only been back in town for a little over a week, and now this project with Warner Textiles has me very busy; so really no time for all of that." She gave him a genuine smile.

Robert's eyes gleamed with interest. The woman was mysterious, and he felt the challenge to crack her, seemingly, very thin facade, would be a worthwhile challenge.

"You make sure my cousin doesn't strap you down with so much work you can't have a little fun," he stated.

"I'm sure she wouldn't do that," Jo answered back.

Robert leaned back in his chair a little. "Blair is a fair minded woman when it comes to her workers. I'm assuming, of course."

Just the opening I needed. "She is. I mean, look at Amanda Palmero. She's practically able to come and go as she pleases," Jo gave him a sharp look; her face not giving away any intentions.

Robert chuckled. "Amanda?"

Familiar first name recognition, Jo, pat yourself on the back. "Yes. I met her the other day. Do you know her?" a brown brow dramatically rose in question.

Robert's face faltered somewhat. He shifted his eyes to glance around the restaurant, thinking of how to put it.

He found patient green eyes waiting for him and he gave her a rueful smile. "I have for a while."

"Oh? She's been with the company for a while then?" Jo questioned.

Robert shook his head. "She's not affiliated with Warner."

Jo waited for a bit then, "She's isn't?"

Robert blew out a breath. "I was at Columbia for a couple of years then transferred to NYU to finish out my degree. Amanda was working on a Fine Arts degree there." He hesitated then, "We started talking for a while."

"You two hit it off?"

Robert cleared his voice. "At first."

The waiter arrived with their wine and Jo patiently waited as Robert addressed the vintage properly before their full servings were poured.

"Thank you. Give us another moment to order," he instructed the waiter, who nodded once, then left.

Jo took a sip. Wow, very good. "You were saying about Amanda?"

Robert swallowed, then slowly put his glass down. "She and I dated for a while, on and off."

It was the way in which he stated it that made Jo's next question valid. "What happened?"

"Let's just say, she discovered herself and leave it at that." Robert let out a nervous laugh before taking a long drink of wine.

Jo nodded, not sure why his explanation was leaving her stumped all of a sudden. "I don't understand."

Robert flashed a brief strained smile then gave Jo a direct look. "She seems to prefer those of a female variety for companions. I should've known, she was always asking me questions about Blair."

Wow. That was indeed unexpected to say the least. She knew her puzzled face was speaking for her, and she truly felt thrown off her game all of a sudden.

And Blair... why would she lie about knowing Amanda longer than she'd said?

Jo moved in her seat, adjusting in it as she mulled over Robert's revelation. Obviously, Blair had an apparent penchant for attracting not only men, but women. Wow, Amanda? It was almost comical, but also intriguing, especially considering Robert's declaration of Amanda's alleged attraction toward Blair. She allowed herself a tiny smile. Understandable.

"Let me clarify," Robert attempted to set the record straight, so to speak. "A few months ago I finally decided to bring her home with me to meet the family. You can imagine the spectacle."

Jo had to agree. "I've been to the mansion all of one time since I've known Blair and it was quite entertaining," she said.

The Warner's never ceased to disappoint when it came to meeting new people. It was a family thing. They air their dirty laundry in front of you then turn on you - grill you, then dismiss you. It was the Warner way.

Robert laughed at that. "Well, good ole' Amanda couldn't quite keep her eyes off of Blair. And Blair was completely consumed with her latest boy toy. Paul, I think his name is."

Jo knew the name. Paul Smith had been in the military, so it was easy to access his profile. It was interesting he had dated a couple of women when in the service, then decided to become an interior designer once he got out. Typical. Blair probably loves that about him.

"Anyway, she kept asking me questions about her. Finally I decided to introduce her to Blair and the rest is history."

Jo knew the answer to this. It had been proclaimed by Blair, ad nauseam, since she'd known her. Blair had always made it clear she was man crazy, and had no interested in anything but friends only when it came to women who were seemingly romantically interested in her. Got it. Friend's only was the way it had to be. But Blair always loved the attention, regardless.

"So they became friends," she said.

Robert measured Jo's statement. He tilted his head. "Sure." He drank the last of his wine.

Jo hesitated for a second before asking. "Does Blair know Amanda's gay?"

"You'll have to ask Blair. That was months ago, I'm sure the subject has come up," Robert replied crisply.

Jo pursed her lips, picking up her wine glass; giving it a swirl. A lot had happened, she reflected. Blair got married then divorced, then became the president of her father's company. Jo paused the wine glass at her lips. The woman she thought she knew, the one she called her best friend, had somehow, suddenly, become more baffling than ever.

She sighed, feeling a quiet sense of frustration envelop her. She took another sip of wine, plastering on a grin.

Robert waited until Jo set her glass down. "Enough about them. I want to know about you." He reached across the table and gently touched her hand.

---

Dinner had gone well. The main conversation consisted mostly of the goings on at Warner. Joyce always loved a good update. She especially loved hearing about Blair's first week as president.

They had retired to the Grande room for after dinner drinks. David had poured himself a scotch and quickly engrossed himself in a phone call; and Meg rolled Joyce out onto the patio for a bit of fresh air.

"I'll be back in a moment, Nana."

Joyce patted Meg on the hand. She loved the scenery of being so close to the beach. The warm summer sun was still able to caress her in the evenings, even though it wouldn't be long before the days would start to grow shorter and cooler. Grey eyes crinkled as she smiled, taking in the fresh air as she stared out over the expanse of the back courtyard.

Meg walked over to the bar where Blair handed her a readymade glass of wine. "Here, thought you could use this."

She took it with a thankful sigh. "Thanks, you read my mind." She took a sip then regarded her stepsister. "I've been meaning to ask you."

"What?" Blair turned her attention to Meg.

"I don't usually see you out here in the middle of the week for dinner. Is everything really going okay at work?"

Blair stirred her club soda with a thin little straw. "Everything's fine. Besides, Daddy asked me to come."

"Uh oh," Meg gave her an alarmed look.

Blair eyed her. "What?"

"This is probably a set up," Meg mock whispered, cracking a smile.

Blair waved it off, glancing at her father. "I kind of figured, but then again, I miss Zelda's cooking so it wasn't a hard decision to come," she smiled. "And I wanted to see Nana; thank her again for my gift."

Blair lifted her arm, happily displaying the family heirloom.

Meg grabbed her wrist, turning it and noticing the fine detail of the 24 karat gold piece. "Those are nice stones," she deduced.

"I wear it every day like she told me too," Blair said with pride.

Truth be told, she sort of saw the heirloom as a comfort piece, maybe even a statement of girl power now that she was at the helm.

There was a sudden slamming of one of the inner doors that led to the Grande room. It was startling. Footsteps then started and became louder as they reached the room where they were all gathered.

"Well, greetings everyone! Sorry I missed dinner. I couldn't cancel on my date at such short notice."

It was said so conceitedly that Meg and Blair couldn't help but take notice. They watched as Robert made his way over to them. He went straight for the scotch, grabbing a tumbler from the bar.

Blair spared a conspiring look at Meg, then rose a brow in amusement. "How'd it go?"

"Beautifully." Robert dropped four ice cubes in his glass, not addressing her.

"Don't tell me, another one of your regular's?" Blair teased, getting the reaction she wanted.

Robert glared at his cousin. "Oh, now, tsk, tsk, Blair. Why be so hard on the poor girl?"

"Just making an observation," Meg chimed in. "Or rather, judging from the past."

She was referring to Robert's track record of picking up women who, without fail, fawned over him, and his over-inflated sense of worth.

Robert shook his head at the both of them. "Well, I'll tell you what. I'll allow you to be the judge of all that," he said in a self-satisfied manner.

Allow me? "Meaning?" Blair asked, truly interested in his answer.

"I'm sure she'll tell you all about it," he flashed a shit eating grin at her, pouring his tumbler full of liquor; then re-corked the bottle, "Tomorrow morning."

Blair scoffed at him. "How's that again?" Bringing your bimbo's to the office now Robert? She took a sip of her drink.

"Jo Polniaczek."

And it was a lovely sound... the sound of coughing, or was that choking on crow? - hard to tell the difference. Robert chuckled openly, fully facing his struggling cousin as she tried to catch her breath.

"Lovely woman. We had a wonderful evening." He handed Blair a napkin, which she snatched out of his hand.

"How is Jo?" Meg asked, careful of the tension building between the two sparring mates.

Robert shrugged. "She's-"

"Not available," came the weak reply. Blair wiped her mouth, then threw the napkin on the bar.

"I was going to say, doing quite well at Warner," Robert corrected her gleefully. "But Blair's response is so much more interesting." He displayed a menacing smile.

"It's true. She's working on a project with me and very busy throughout the day," Blair struggled to maintain her argument.

Robert came within a few inches of Blair. "Well, you know what's also true? I finally find a woman to go out with me, for me I might add, and you," he pointed at her, "somehow feel threatened."

Blair leaned away from her clueless cousin and scoffed. "I'm hardly threatened by that."

"Really?" he lifted a brow. "Then why such a hostile attitude about it?" Robert kept his voice harsh. He shifted a glance to David, who was still highly engrossed in conversation across the room. "Afraid she'll like me instead of you?"

Blair rolled her eyes; feeling incensed. "She can make up her own mind, I'm sure," she scowled at him.

He merely smiled calmly at her, enjoying her undoing. "Thaaat's it, isn't it? Finally, I get a little revenge on you. And what makes it even sweeter is it's with someone you'd rather have for yourself, isn't that right Blair?"

He harshly whispered that last part, loving the aspect of being one of the keepers of Blair's most guarded secrets. He also loved holding it over her head. It had been a disappointing day, to say the least, and Blair just added more fuel to his temper.

"You really have no idea what you're talking about," she said.

"I know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Robert's voice took on a low register. He loudly set his glass down on the bar top. "You've taken everything from me!"

Blair blinked at him. She felt the shift in their confrontation, and decided to chide him. "You've hardly earned anything," she stated.

That did it. Robert's face drew up in anger. "I should be president, not you!"

"And there it is," Blair waved her arm toward her indigent cousin. "It's always going to come back to that isn't it, Robert?" She laughed at his angry expression. "Poor little Robert: robbed of a position he can't have."

"Screw you! You took Amanda from me!" He was in her face now and Blair had to back up a bit.

"She never wanted you!" she stated the obvious, and Robert had no defense.

"It's her loss! But, oh how I'm going to relish seeing you squirm now that I have your good friend, Jo, on my arm," he saw the wavering smile Blair tried to maintain for his benefit. "Hurt's doesn't it?"

Blair just stared at him. She debated whether or not to tell her overzealous cousin about Jo's true nature, but ultimately decided not to play her hand too soon. No. There will come a day and a time for that. She was certain.

"Robert. This isn't the time for this," Meg interceded. She had been watching their whole argument like it was a ping-pong match.

"Stay out of this Meg! Blair's a grown woman, she can speak for herself!" Robert snapped at her.

"We are not going to do this here," Blair demanded in a hushed voice.

"You're not going to control me!" Robert sensed Blair's desperation, and relished her potential exposure. "I'll say whatever I want to say!"

He saw her flinch at his words. Good. He glanced at his uncle across the room. "And maybe it's time I let the rest of the family know just what you've been up to."

"Keep your mouth shut, Robert!" brown eyes flashed with fear and anger.

Robert laughed. "Starting with Amanda." Oh, gotcha now.

---

Jo was in the bathroom at Florenza's Cafe. Geno had graciously let her park her bike in the back alley earlier.

Florenza's had only one stall, and she struggled to take off her dress and shoe's in the tiny space.

Earlier, she had taken a cab to the upscale restaurant in the Upper East Side to meet up with Robert. No sense in taking the bike when in a dress and high heels.

"Did you put a trace on him?"

"Yep." Jo hopped into her jeans, pulling them up then buckling her belt. "It looks like he went straight to the Warner mansion."

"Get up there and inform David Warner. I knew this guy was hiding something. Seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Eric ordered.

Thanks to Jo, after days and hours of pouring through numerous layers of analytical information, Eric had finally uncovered the one thing they had been looking for - one, single transaction. That transaction was linked to an account connected with access. The person who had sole access was none other than Robert Warner.

And now they were at a standstill until they could inform the CEO. Unfortunately, David Warner was completely ignoring their attempts at contact at the moment.

Jo had done her job, which was extracting information from her dinner companion. He was easy, his ego fragile and quite large, she had observed. Getting him to open up and brag about the Tokyo division was one thing - easy enough. But when it came to talking about his personal worth, he spilled the most valuable information yet.

He held money all around the world, he had said. It only took a little prompting and flirting for Jo to find out Robert had a hand in the offshore account. The implications were pretty clear at this point, and Eric's job became that more easier.

She switched her cell phone to tuck under her chin as she tied and clamped her biker boots, while sitting on top of the toilet seat. "Couldn't get in contact with Warner?"

"He's not picking up his phone. I'm pretty sure he has a private team working on this but I warned him not to try and take this on without us."

Jo grunted. "He's as stubborn as his daughter." She stood grabbing her bag and zipping it up. "Okay, I'm out of here. I'll let you know when I get there."

"Be careful, We don't know what Robert Warner is capable of."

"I'm on it." Jo ended the call then yanked the bathroom door open.

"Took you long enough."

"Yeah well, Geno needs a bigger ladies room." Jo said.

"Tell that to city maintenance. That bathroom is an historical treasure Jo. Liza Minnelli once held up an entire theatrical production because Bernadette Peters had to use the restroom and couldn't get in; because she, Liza, had to get her make-up just right."

Jo smirked. "I know. I read all about it on the plaque on the wall in there." Jo smiled. "Thanks Tootie."

Tootie nodded. She had been patiently guarding the door while Jo dressed in the one woman stall. "You're welcome. I have to get back to work, I'm missing tips."

Jo nodded. "I'll see you later."

She made her way through the kitchen, giving Geno a nod in thanks as she made her way to the back alley.

Jo tapped the back of her ear, making sure her communication was open to Eric. "Test."

"Here."

She secured her helmet, revved the engine then checked the street behind her before backing up. Setting out at a steady pace she made her way out of the city and into the countryside. The route she took was a quick road to the Warner mansion. She was about fifteen minutes out when she noticed a car start to edge up on her, getting closer.

What's this? "Looks like I might have a tail on me."

"Be careful, Jo."

The black car eased off only to catch back up with her, almost bumping her bike. "Crap, they keep rolling up on me!"

Jo looked in her side view mirror trying to see who was driving the car. The driver was wearing sunglasses and a hat of some sort. He caught up with her again, this time making contact with her tail pipe.

The bump immediately threw her out of control, her tires skidding. Jo gripped the handlebars tightly, trying to keep the bike from sliding sideways.

"Dammit, back off!" she yelled.

"Agent, are you okay?"

The car bumped her again, this time sending her sliding off the road and onto the shoulder. The weight of the bike forced her to lean to one side as she slipped into the ditch. Jo was able to hop off just in time as she was thrown to the ground. "Damn! Ugh..."

"Agent?! Jo! Are you there?"

Jo laid there, the sound of her bike wheels turning let her know she was still alive.

"Yeah, I'm here. They ran me off the road. I'm in a ditch."

"I'm sending someone out."

Jo sat up, dusting her jacket and tee shirt off. "No, I'm alright. They just dinged me." She saw that one of her cargo cases had a dent in it. Damn.

She at least had the gumption, thank goodness, to look up at the right moment before going off her bike, and get the plate number of the car before it sped away.

"I got a plate number."

"Go ahead."

She gave Eric the number, then slowly made her way over to her bike, standing it up after turning off the motor. She felt heavy and her booted feet weighted her down all of a sudden.

Jo hopped back on her bike and turned it on, revving the motor.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jo righted the bike and started back on the road. She coughed, then felt a sharp sting in her side. She looked down noticing the growing red spot on her tee shirt.

She placed her hand over it. "I'm... uh. Okay. I'm not fine." That's a lot of blood.

Jo?

"Got blood, on my... ugh," a sudden dizzy feeling caused her to almost lose her vision. She blinked - her speed lowering considerably.

"Can you get to an urgent care?" Eric typed for a second. "There's one two miles from you."

Jo nodded, her head heavy under the helmet; her eyesight loopy and fuzzy. "Okay, yeah... yeah... before I pass out." She gripped the handlebars.

"Steady, Jo, just keep talking to me, we'll get you there."

The bike wobbled and swerved as it went along the road. "Kay..." she swallowed. "I'm gonna' make this..."

---

"Sir, do you want me to go back and check?" the driver asked.

"No! No, you've done enough. I just wanted to scare the girl, not kill her!"

Steele gray eyes glinted. "Just drive."

"As you wish, sir."

---

The air in the room was crisp, almost electrically charged as the occupants in the Grande room attempted to contain an un-winnable non-argument.

"Can we please not do this right now?" Meg had stepped in between Blair and Robert, who were staring each other down.

Robert snapped his eyes to meet Meg's. "Can you please mind your own damn business for once, Meg?"

"What do you want, Robert? Besides my job that is?" Blair crossed her arms over her chest, knowing she'd lit yet another fire in her cousin.

His eyes narrowed. Fuck you. "I'll make it simple for you. Retribution." He looked towards his uncle who was still on the phone. "Oh, Uncle David?"

David hit the mute button on his phone and glared at his nephew. "One moment, I'll be with you in a minute!" he said angrily.

"Oh, good," he faced Blair with a smirk, "I have some interesting news for you."

Blair scowled at him, alarmed. "You promised."

A wide smile. "I lied."

"You never fail to let me down, Robert," Blair eyed him, letting her voice lower to a raspy tenor. She noticed her father ending his conversation, then walking over to them - drink in hand.

The CEO looked at the both of them shaking his head. "You two still going at it?" David sipped his drink.

Robert spoke up first. "Glad you could join us, Uncle David, I have some rather, fascinating news about your favorite daughter."

David grunted at that. He ignored Robert's enthusiastic attitude all together. He had information of his own to attend to. "Let's cut the crap, Robert. I just got off the phone with my informant."

Blair's faced dropped, startled. "Informant? For what, Daddy?"

David exhaled loudly and faced his daughter. Her face was a mixture of confusion and disappointment. "I think it's time you knew, Blair," he looked at Robert. "Robert here hasn't been exactly upfront with us concerning his division in Tokyo."

"Hold on a min...What?!" The shocked expression Robert wore was almost comical.

"What are you talking about?" Blair looked between the two of them.

David held up a hand. "Meg, could you please excuse us? This is a private business matter."

Meg nodded. "Sure. I'll go check on Nana."

David watched as she left to go out onto the patio. "Now. Robert would you mind explaining just why the warehouses were burned down?" He lowered his voice. "The real reason."

Robert looked nervous, if not confused by the sudden interrogation. "Uncle David, I can assure you I know as much as you and Blair do about the warehouses," he tried to maintain a calm stance.

David wasn't buying it. "You're a liar!" He came within inches of his nephew's face.

"I just found out you're the connection to the transactions that took place right before Russell died. There were approximately thirteen transactions, all in one day. That's a little much, and a lot of money wouldn't you say?" David gave him a sharp stare, waiting for an answer.

He was upset, Blair deduced. She watched as her father ganged up on Robert, pushing him back towards the bar. His back hit the edge of the counter.

Blair almost couldn't believe her ears. She had investigators reporting to her on a daily basis over there. They had yet to name a source or a reason for the warehouses being purposefully burned to the ground.

"Wait a minute, Daddy, what are you talking about?" she grabbed him by the shoulder, coercing him to turn around. "What money? Do you have a private investigation going on?"

David huffed, then met her eyes. "Blair..."

"You were supposed to tell me!" brown eyes bored into her father's. He dropped his gaze then met hers again. He looked anguished.

"I trusted you," Blair tore her eyes from his as she walked away from both of them in disgust. She picked up her club soda from a table and gulped it down.

"You can't prove anything!" Robert yelled.

David turned and addressed him. "I have all the proof I need. They tracked the transactions to your account, Robert. You received the money. But from whom, is the question."

"You mind filling us in?" Blair felt so done with the whole situation. She rolled her eyes at the both of them. Money was always tied up in the situation. It was their favorite subject.

Robert glared at his uncle. "How do I know you're not setting me up?"

That did it, and David's eyes flashed angrily as he rushed toward Robert knocking him back into the bar while grabbing a fist full of his shirt. "How dare you accuse me of sabotaging my own company!"

"Daddy!" Blair yelled from across the room.

David held his position for a second, then relaxed his grip.

"Okay! Okay..." Robert carefully extracted himself from David's hold, then pulled his shirt, smoothing it out. "I received the money, but I swear I didn't set the whole thing up."

"So who did?" David barked.

Blair made her way over to them, curious. "And for what, Robert? What are you hiding?"

"I don't know!" Robert flailed his arms.

Blair tiled her head at him. Something was off. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

Robert licked his lips. They were dry. "My father asked me to hide the money for him. So I did."

"Hide for what reason, Robert?!" David started to rush at him again, causing the vice president of global operations to flinch in anticipated harm.

"Enough!"

The sound reverberated off the walls of the room. There was a still moment, and three sets of eyes watched as Meg rolled the family matriarch to the center of the room.

Her lips were quirked, and she looked at them with a semi-annoyed expression. "I've listened to you all go on long enough."

Just then the Grande room doors opened, reveling a tall, gray haired man. He rushed over to Joyce, who breathed a relived sigh at his presence.

"Miles. I'm glad you could make it. You're right on time."

David nodded to the board member, acknowledging him. "Miles."

"David," Miles nodded back.

David looked at his mother. "What's going on mother?"

"David shut up and listen... all of you," Joyce said.

"I'll make this quick because I'm tired and it's almost time for my medicine."

She had the floor as all were riveted to her, wondering just what was going on with the company now that a fellow board member had entered the scene.

Joyce cleared her throat. "When David Sr. died, I promised him on his death bed I would clear his name and keep it that way. Lord knows he was a stubborn and deceitful man, but he did have good intentions."

"Nana," Blair held out a hand as a means to soothe.

Joyce shook her head. "No, Blair, dear, you need to know what's been going on and why I did what I did."

"What are you talking about mother?" David asked, worried by her words.

"I'm talking about your father's propensity for getting himself into trouble and dragging the rest of us down with him," Joyce said to her son.

She turned her gaze toward Robert. "And, Robert, I'm sorry but my son was just like your grandfather." Her voice held no note of apology at that. "I don't want you to follow in either of their footsteps, which is why I chose to intervene and end this once and for all."

She signaled for her water glass, and Meg turned to retrieve it. "Miles, how is Agnes?"

"She's taken a turn for the worst, I'm afraid," Miles reached down and patted Joyce's arm.

"Oh dear..." Joyce held a sorrowful look. Shaking her head, she took the water glass from Meg.

"Mother," David was at a loss for what to say. He knew Agnes Steinbruner had been in the hospital for a few days. The 84-year-old woman was the oldest board member at Warner Textiles.

"David, you're not the main stakeholder in this family. You don't call the shots. You never have," Joyce said pointedly as she took a sip of water.

"What?" David's eyebrow's knitted in confusion.

"Before he died, your father arranged to split my shares into holdings in which Miles, Agnes and I are equal partners," Joyce handed the glass back to Meg, then fluffed the quilted blanket that was folded over her legs. "We are the major stockholders of this company; or realistically, I am."

David looked at Miles, then at his mother. "Why would..."

"You father didn't want Russell to go down the same path he did; and Russell was hell bent on doing that," Joyce reasoned.

Blair took in the information, still a bit lost. "What does this have to do with the warehouses, Nana?" she asked cautiously.

"Those warehouses belong to me. I can do whatever I want to with them," she looked at her granddaughter, an air of confidence flowed through her at the statement.

"The Japanese authorities have no jurisdiction to have a say into the matter whether I tear them down or burn them down. I simply chose the latter." It was said with such finality - no one dared to question her decision, except…

"Why?" Robert asked. He felt he had a stake in this and deserved an explanation.

"Evidence," Joyce offered no further explanation.

David blanched at the reply. "Mother, what have you done?!"

"Your mother has done very well actually, David," Miles interjected.

David turned to him. "Miles, tell me what's going on here."

The tall man straightened, then took in a breath. "Well. We've been keeping the business running since your father died. Agnes and I promised your father Joyce would be looked after. We both agreed to hide Joyce's shares in order to give you power."

"You mean, in order to keep an eye on me," David gave him a stern look.

"Not you. Your brother," Joyce corrected. She coughed, then grabbed her glass from Meg and took sip from it.

"And we were right. He was going down the wrong path," Miles clarified.

Blair understood the reasons for her grandmother's actions, but still, there were several pieces missing to the puzzle. "That still doesn't explain why you had the warehouses destroyed."

Miles lifted a brow at the question. "We actually thought we could keep that just between the three of us but, well, with Agnes taking a turn for the worse, it seemed there was no other way around it."

"I'll tell them, Miles. You've said enough," Joyce patted his hand. She turned to her grandson.

"Robert, your father was involved in trafficking industrial hemp to illegal sources for financial gain."

And there it was. Right out in the open. No holds barred and simply put. Joyce was never one to mince words.

Robert was at a loss as he absorbed what his grandmother had revealed to him. "B-But we've been making several clothing items out of that stuff for decades!" he sputtered out.

"You father wanted to further his own financial gain by selling it illegally. There's a market for it," Joyce explained.

David rubbed his chin. "Russell sold it over there with no accountability."

Miles put up a finger. "Until it reached American shores. And that is where your father made a grave mistake."

Point taken. "So Uncle Russell was selling to an underground market," Blair interjected.

"Yes!" Joyce's eyes lit up at her granddaughters deductive reasoning. "And I wouldn't stand for it! So I ordered the warehouses to be burned down. He knew this and tried to get rid of the evidence, but I gave him nowhere to store it."

Joyce said the last part with a saddened tone. She knew the possibility of Russell's sudden heart attack might have been brought on by the stress of being exposed and possibly caught.

"So that's where all the money came from," David muttered.

"I tried to hide it, Uncle David... for my father," Robert's eyes were pleading. He felt sad and betrayed.

David looked at his nephew. He'd been wrong about him. Perhaps, maybe, the apple was far enough from the tree this time.

"He called me, saying he didn't want anyone to know about it," Robert clarified.

"So you lied when it all of a sudden showed up in the holdings account," David said.

"Yes. But I didn't know it was tainted money. I just figured he had worked out a deal or something," Robert took a long drink of his scotch.

"He didn't want you to know. He was trying to protect you," David watched him.

He couldn't blame Russell for trying to protect Robert. But to involve him at all... put his own flesh and blood in potential harm's way. He shook his head at the thought.

"Your father had no idea I had a team of people watching his every move," Joyce told Robert.

Blair felt like a mere observer in the tangle that was her family's business dealings. She felt a morsel of sympathy for Robert, if only because he was as much in the dark as she was about Russell Warner's business deals. "So where's the money now?" she asked.

"I had it secured."

Bold move, Nana. Blair watched the serene look on her grandmother's face. She knew how important it was to her to protect her family.

"Into an anonymous account I had set up for just so treacherous occasions," Joyce finished. Her sense of humor was well known as being quite biting. And Meg had to smile at her choice of words.

"Where?" Blair asked. She was truly intrigued now.

"Safely put away," Joyce wasn't interested in being forthcoming... not with that much money.

"Nana, if I may ask," Blair saw her grandmother give her a knowing look. "How much money are we talking about here?"

"Blair, it doesn't make a difference, it's tainted," David stated.

"True," Joyce admitted. "It's no longer in circulation within the company," she concluded. She noticed Blair hanging on her every word. Waiting for her to answer her main question.

"One hundred eighty million dollars, dear," Joyce had to chuckle at the big eyes her granddaughter was giving her.

"That's a lot of money!" Blair finally got out.

"I know," Joyce said. "Russell owed several people, so it's not entirely all ours, so to speak."

Miles nodded in agreement. "Unfortunately, they have been very persistent lately in wanting their compensation."

"My God Mother, this puts us all in jeopardy!" David looked at his mother, who was all too aware of their predicament.

"I know. That's why I wanted to tell you. I think it's necessary to provide security for the family. I don't know who Russell owed money to, but I don't want to take any chances."

The room was quiet for a moment. Everyone was in thought about the new jarring information.

Joyce continued. "Miles has been having all of us trailed for the past week."

Blair's head snapped up, her eyes trained on her grandmother. "You've been spying on us?"

Joyce shook her head. "No, dear. Just your whereabouts when you're mobile. Miles instructed the team to stand by and out of sight."

"This makes me feel very uncomfortable," Blair said under her breath.

David hesitated for a second, then decided it was best to be forthcoming. "I have my own team guarding Blair and myself, Mother. No need to double down."

He saw the incredulous look on Blair's face at the admission.

Joyce smirked a bit. "As you wish."

"We'll just use our resources in finding the culprits then," Miles concluded.

"Any leads?" David asked Miles.

"We know it's one particular group that had been in direct contact with Russell. He dealt with them only. According to my resources, they want revenge, but more importantly: they want their money."

"Daddy, you've had me followed?!" Blair blurted. She couldn't contain it any longer and was tired of her father's arrangements.

"Sweetheart, I didn't want anything to happen to you," David swallowed. Lately, that's all he'd been doing with Blair - apologizing for screwing up.

It was hard to argue. After learning about the situation the company was in, she saw the logic in her father's actions. Blair breathed in through her nose, her temper quelling a bit. "I wish you had told me."

"I know. Believe me I wanted to," David tried to explain. "And, evidently, I didn't know everything that was going on anyway," he gave a sheepish look in his mother's direction.

"This is all quite a surprise," Meg let out a nervous laugh.

There was something still bothering Blair, however. "Nana, how long have you had me followed?"

"Tracked dear," Joyce gave her a brief smile, before letting her eyes fall on the family heirloom around Blair's arm.

Blair followed her eyes. "My bracelet," she breathed, closing her eyes.

"Yes. Once you became president, you became a target. Miles had the bracelet altered to track you," Joyce looked to Miles for confirmation.

"My dear, we only meant to keep you safe," he assured her.

That did nothing to reassure her. It just made doing her job all that more difficult. It was one thing to have money moved for non-transparency. That had happened before; especially when companies merged. She'd personally saw to it. But this? Threats against the company by unknown conspirators? Her own father not being entirely forthcoming?

Blair shook her head, making her way over to where Robert was nursing his third glass of scotch. He sat at the bar practically curled around it.

"You could've told me," Blair sighed. "Nana, I feel violated." She toyed with the idea of taking the bracelet off.

"You can remove it dear," Joyce could read her granddaughter. And, quite frankly, was tired of the whole charade. "Your father has you covered. It won't be necessary to wear it anymore."

Blair quirked her lips as she fiddled with the bracelet. Sighing, she let her hand drop from it. I'll take it off later. She looked at her Nana, who had a remorseful look.

"Understand, we simply couldn't tell you," Joyce was adamant. "We didn't want to put you at risk with that knowledge."

I get it. "You don't trust me," Blair said disappointedly.

"Don't feel bad, Blair. They don't trust me either." Robert glared at no one in particular, while gulping his scotch.

Joyce used her electric driver to roll over towards her grandchildren. "Robert, Blair please... try to understand," her voice wavered. It was thin and sorrowful.

"Mother, you did what you thought was right," David interjected. "I can't fault you for that," he said.

Blair sighed. "I'm trying. I don't like this feeling. It's going to make my job that much harder now - having to watch my back."

"You don't have to watch your back. That's why we have security," Miles offered.

Blair looked at him, her face unreadable. Security? The family's been threatened: forget the company. She shook her head.

"Yeah. My dad did this," Robert's voice was gruff. "They won't win. It'll take time, but we'll get them."

He eyed everyone in the room, then downed the last of his scotch and winced as it cleared his throat. He slammed his glass on the wooden bar surface… then abruptly left the room.

---

Natalie had parked on the street in front of the apartment building. She explained to the doorman, whom she'd known for as long as Blair had been living there - that she would be 'just a minute'.

She walked into the lobby of The Verona Place. It was a spectacular open area that had crystal chandeliers, marble Italian sculptures and an authentic Italian coffee bar. The building itself was over one hundred years old, and displayed Italian renaissance detailing throughout.

Natalie never failed to be in awe of the spacious and ritzy looking place. There was a garden out the back way, as well. Blair's taste for sure. She made her way over to William at the concierge desk.

"Hello, William, how are you?" Natalie put on her best cordial tone. At least she had hoped it came across that way; if not she was aiming for convincing with a touch of class, just the same.

"Just fine, Ms. Green. And you?" The grey haired man gave Natalie a warm smile.

Natalie returned the smile. "Just great. I thought I'd go up and wait for Blair. I'm supposed to meet her here... upstairs at her apartment," she reiterated.

Ok, so it was a lie. She and Blair had no such arrangement, but William didn't need to know that.

"You're welcome to wait in the lobby. The bar has an wonderful assortment of coffees and teas," William suggested.

"Oh, no, no, no. I couldn't possibly," Natalie waved a hand. "Blair said to just go on up and wait for her up there." She pointed an index finger to the ceiling.

William gave her a single nod. "Alright. If you'll just sign in there." He indicated the guest sign in book on the desktop.

Natalie scribbled her name. "Thank you. And, enjoy your evening!" She turned and headed toward the elevator.

"Same to you," William called after her.

The ride up was pleasant. The newly renovated elevator was partially glass and she could see each floor as she passed by - all 65 of them - if she wished to. She didn't, the lobby itself getting further and further away.

Natalie got an uncharacteristically nervous feeling in her stomach the closer she got to the penthouse floor. If the card didn't work, that was one thing. But what if it did? Eric had verified that Amanda Palmero had never taken up residence at The Verona Place, but he wanted the card verified anyway.

The elevator jerked then stopped as the doors opened. Natalie stepped out onto the plush carpeting and headed down the hall. She found Blair's door and pulled the key card out of her purse.

Okay. "Here we go." She hesitated for a second, the card hovering outside the slot; then she slid it in.

Green lights flashed. "What do you know? It works," Natalie said a little hoarsely.

She tried it again just to be sure and this time turned the doorknob. She didn't open the door, but was now convinced the card was, indeed, a key to Blair's penthouse.

She placed it back in her purse and walked back down the hall to the elevator. Pushing the down button, the doors opened and she got in. Natalie stood still as she tried to make sense of what she knew about Amanda Palmero; which was very little. She knew the woman was evasive when it came to Blair.

"She never really answered me when I asked her about Blair." Did that really matter? Benefit of the doubt pointed to - yes it did. Natalie rolled her tongue in her cheek.

Her instincts were prickling at her, pushing her to comprehend the situation. She was right about the key, right about her decision to go to the gallery, and right about the woman being just as uppity as Blair.

"Okay, they know each other. Hit it off; maybe they had lunch or something and Blair dropped her key and Amanda found it, picked it up, meaning to give it back to her."

Yeah...

That didn't quite sound right, did it? "No." So she was back to the very beginning.

Natalie leaned back on the elevator wall. She thought about the first rules of investigative reporting. "Comprehend the situation... understand what's going on."

What the hell is Amanda Palmero doing with Blair's door key?

---

As always your reviews have been like food to my muse. I've enjoyed reading them - they've been so funny and very observant. I appreciate you, my fellow BLO fans, very much!