“Prove it!”
“I don’t need to prove it. We both know it was you, so cut the crap!”
“So what? People have a right to know when somebody in their community brings a two-bit hooker into their midst and makes her out to be a respectable woman.”
“Sabrina is not a hooker!” Daniel shouted and raised his fist. He’d never hit a woman, but by God, he was close to it now. “This afternoon, you’ll be contacting the reporter, telling her that you made a mistake, that it was a case of mistaken identity and ask her to withdraw the story and issue an apology.”
She smiled in the smug way that he’d always hated. “No.”
“Don’t push me, Audrey. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“You’re not the only one who can issue threats.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t order me around anymore! You dumped me for that lowly piece of—”
Daniel pushed her against the wall, pointing his finger in her face. “Don’t finish that sentence!”
“Even if I don’t say the word, it’s still true. I have proof, Daniel! Hard evidence that can’t be disputed. The paper won’t issue a correction, let alone an apology. I have documentation.”
“What fucking documentation? There is no proof, because Sabrina isn’t a call girl! Whatever you have is faked!”
“It’s not!” Audrey insisted. “I have it in black and white!”
“Tell me now, or—”
“Or what? I’m not your girlfriend anymore!”
“Thank God for that!” he muttered. He’d dodged a bullet when he’d found Audrey in bed with his attorney.
Audrey glared at him, her mouth now spewing venom. “I’m glad of it! Luckily I never married you! Imagine the horror of finding a charge for an escort service on your credit card statement! As your wife I would have sunk into the ground out of shame! Luckily I was spared that humiliation!”
“Credit card statement?” That’s how she’d found out? He gripped her arms, leaning in so his face was only inches from hers. “How did you get my statements?” The only people who handled his credit card statements were his assistant Frances and himself. “Frances would have never—”
Audrey interrupted him with a laugh. “Wouldn’t she? I think you forget who recommended Frances to you when you were looking for a new assistant.”
Daniel released her as if he’d burned himself on a hot stove and stepped back. “Frances?” Fuck! How had he not seen that? How could he have missed it? It all made sense now: Frances had constantly kept Audrey apprised of his whereabouts, his comings and goings, even his purchases. And there had indeed been a charge from an escort service on his credit card statement.
And had Claire Heart told him the truth after all, that she’d contacted his office for comment, and had Frances claimed he didn’t want to speak to her? Frances certainly hadn’t passed Claire Heart’s message along to him.
Audrey chuckled. “Yes, Frances helped me figure it out. I knew something was fishy when I surprised you and her that night in the hotel. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. But when I heard about Sabrina’s friend Holly, I remembered something: you’d called Sabrina ‘Holly’ that night. You didn’t know her real name.” Audrey straightened her blouse and smiled. “I put two and two together. And when I saw the charge on your credit card, I dug a little deeper. Honestly, in the end it was almost too easy. Sabrina is a prostitute, but she didn’t even have the guts to use her own name. She used her friend’s name, as if that would hide what she was!”
His blood ran cold. “You’ll pay for this! Mark my words!” He unlocked the door and rushed outside, Audrey’s mocking laughter chasing him.
When he reached the sidewalk, he took a few deep breaths. But they did nothing to tamp down his rage. He dug his cell phone from his pocket and dialed.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sinclair,” Frances answered the phone, clearly having recognized his cell phone number on her phone’s display.
“You’re fired, Frances! Clean out your desk and leave! I’m alerting security, and they will escort you out of the building.”
A gasp came through the line. “Fired? But I don’t—”
“Don’t count on a reference from me! Maybe your friend Audrey can find you another position, but I don’t employ people who are disloyal to me.”
He hung up, for the first time in the last half hour feeling a flicker of satisfaction. Anybody who crossed him would meet the same fate as Frances. The newspaper would be next. And then Audrey would feel his wrath. But for that he needed to enlist help.
“I don’t need to prove it. We both know it was you, so cut the crap!”
“So what? People have a right to know when somebody in their community brings a two-bit hooker into their midst and makes her out to be a respectable woman.”
“Sabrina is not a hooker!” Daniel shouted and raised his fist. He’d never hit a woman, but by God, he was close to it now. “This afternoon, you’ll be contacting the reporter, telling her that you made a mistake, that it was a case of mistaken identity and ask her to withdraw the story and issue an apology.”
She smiled in the smug way that he’d always hated. “No.”
“Don’t push me, Audrey. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“You’re not the only one who can issue threats.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t order me around anymore! You dumped me for that lowly piece of—”
Daniel pushed her against the wall, pointing his finger in her face. “Don’t finish that sentence!”
“Even if I don’t say the word, it’s still true. I have proof, Daniel! Hard evidence that can’t be disputed. The paper won’t issue a correction, let alone an apology. I have documentation.”
“What fucking documentation? There is no proof, because Sabrina isn’t a call girl! Whatever you have is faked!”
“It’s not!” Audrey insisted. “I have it in black and white!”
“Tell me now, or—”
“Or what? I’m not your girlfriend anymore!”
“Thank God for that!” he muttered. He’d dodged a bullet when he’d found Audrey in bed with his attorney.
Audrey glared at him, her mouth now spewing venom. “I’m glad of it! Luckily I never married you! Imagine the horror of finding a charge for an escort service on your credit card statement! As your wife I would have sunk into the ground out of shame! Luckily I was spared that humiliation!”
“Credit card statement?” That’s how she’d found out? He gripped her arms, leaning in so his face was only inches from hers. “How did you get my statements?” The only people who handled his credit card statements were his assistant Frances and himself. “Frances would have never—”
Audrey interrupted him with a laugh. “Wouldn’t she? I think you forget who recommended Frances to you when you were looking for a new assistant.”
Daniel released her as if he’d burned himself on a hot stove and stepped back. “Frances?” Fuck! How had he not seen that? How could he have missed it? It all made sense now: Frances had constantly kept Audrey apprised of his whereabouts, his comings and goings, even his purchases. And there had indeed been a charge from an escort service on his credit card statement.
And had Claire Heart told him the truth after all, that she’d contacted his office for comment, and had Frances claimed he didn’t want to speak to her? Frances certainly hadn’t passed Claire Heart’s message along to him.
Audrey chuckled. “Yes, Frances helped me figure it out. I knew something was fishy when I surprised you and her that night in the hotel. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. But when I heard about Sabrina’s friend Holly, I remembered something: you’d called Sabrina ‘Holly’ that night. You didn’t know her real name.” Audrey straightened her blouse and smiled. “I put two and two together. And when I saw the charge on your credit card, I dug a little deeper. Honestly, in the end it was almost too easy. Sabrina is a prostitute, but she didn’t even have the guts to use her own name. She used her friend’s name, as if that would hide what she was!”
His blood ran cold. “You’ll pay for this! Mark my words!” He unlocked the door and rushed outside, Audrey’s mocking laughter chasing him.
When he reached the sidewalk, he took a few deep breaths. But they did nothing to tamp down his rage. He dug his cell phone from his pocket and dialed.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sinclair,” Frances answered the phone, clearly having recognized his cell phone number on her phone’s display.
“You’re fired, Frances! Clean out your desk and leave! I’m alerting security, and they will escort you out of the building.”
A gasp came through the line. “Fired? But I don’t—”
“Don’t count on a reference from me! Maybe your friend Audrey can find you another position, but I don’t employ people who are disloyal to me.”
He hung up, for the first time in the last half hour feeling a flicker of satisfaction. Anybody who crossed him would meet the same fate as Frances. The newspaper would be next. And then Audrey would feel his wrath. But for that he needed to enlist help.
