Chapter 13

Hands on his hips, Xavier rode the elevator to his floor with two officers, two security guards, Joseph, and Peyton in tow.

What a clusterfuck. It was bad enough to learn she'd gotten a threatening email from within his company, but to learn that threat had come from his own secretary of four years was pure, unadulterated shit. No signs. No signals. Nothing to indicate the woman was a lunatic.

He thought of all the times Peyton and Fern had been alone in the office, all the opportunities she'd had to hurt Peyton. Nauseous, he closed his eyes for a beat.

Concern clenched his gut. The police would, no doubt, not be able to hold Fern on much. She had no criminal record and the email could be passed off as a joke. Which meant, if she really wanted to, Fern could have the freedom to go after Peyton. The fact she hadn't done anything so far but send an email was of little solace.

The elevator stopped and the doors swished open. At seeing the entourage, Fern rose to her feet from behind her desk and hung up the phone.

File in hand, he strode closer. "It's come to my attention that you sent this to Miss Smoke." He passed her the printed copy of the original email.

Fern, gaze wide, scanned the paper. After a moment, her jaw set and cool fury lit her eyes. Saying nothing, she handed the paper back.

Xavier nodded, barely leashing his rage. "Your employment is terminated. Security will escort you off the premises and the police have questions for you. Personal items will be delivered to your home address within twenty-four hours. Hand over your keys and badge."

Something akin to crazy twisted her face and her tinny voice rose. "You believe her over me?" Her sharp gaze darted over his shoulder.

"Don't look at her." Irrational panic narrowed his airway. He sucked oxygen through flared nostrils, his temples throbbing. "Yes, I believe Miss Smoke, and there's evidence to back up her claim even if I didn't. Badge and keys. Now." He was just irate enough to ring Fern's scrawny neck until her wild brown hair flew into more chaos. He wouldn't miss the dowdy wardrobe, either.

She shook her head as if in disbelief. "It's always about her, isn't it?"

Peyton's quiet gasp was like a shot in his ears, and he tensed to the point of pain.

Later. He'd take care of Peyton later. That was a goddamn promise. Knowing her, she was taking this personally and blaming herself.

Fern grabbed her purse from a drawer, plopping it unceremoniously on the desk. "Four years, and then that bitch comes along. Miss Perfect this and Miss Perfect that. All her annoying cheer. It's sickening. Did you ever stop to thank me for all I did? No. Ever think to promote me as your personal assistant? No."

He didn't bother correcting the nutcase that Peyton was media relations director, not a damn assistant. And three times as qualified for the position. Never mind the fact he'd given Fern a hefty Christmas bonus every year.

Fern smacked a white keycard in front of him, followed by a keyring.

Distracted by grabbing the items, he didn't realize her intention until it was too late. With a screech that rattled his ears, she palmed a stapler and threw it over his shoulder. Breath in his throat, he turned in time to watch it hit Peyton square in the temple.

His lungs collapsed.

She cried out in paina sound he'd never unhear, no matter how hard he triedand pressed a hand to the spot. Wide, shocked eyes besought Fern's as if to ask why.

His bodyguard stepped in front of Peyton and pulled her to the side, blocking her from Xavier's view. The officers surrounded Fern. Handcuffs and Miranda rights followed. She wailed and spit and fought their hold. They hauled her to the elevator and waited.

Postal didn't cover it. Xavier's chest heaved and his vision grayed. Homicide charge? Hell, it would be worth it. "Joseph, get Miss Smoke out of here. Go to my office."

But he was already enroute, an arm over her head as they disappeared swiftly down the hallway. All Xavier could think about as he stared after them was whether she was okay. Did she need an ambulance? Alarm battled with wrath inside his head.

Fists clenched, he eyed the guards. "What's the status outside?"

Duane, the taller one, used a walkie-talkie to inquire. Seconds later, the thing crackled and a voice answered.

"We've got about ten reporters and a small group of pedestrians. Another San Francisco squad is standing by."

Damn police scanners. Media used them like beacons.

Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose. The sooner he dealt with that mess, the sooner he could check on Peyton. She was safe with Joseph, in good hands, but he wasn't Xavier. And this was all his fault.

They headed downstairs, through the main lobby and to the curb as a group. Xavier watched quietly as Fern was loaded into the back of a cruiser. Reporters migrated like geese until the squad disappeared around a corner, then they flocked to him.

With security guards on either side of him, he raised a hand for silence. "I'll make a brief statement and I'd appreciate no questions." He glanced at the faces in the crowd, at the buildings lining the street. He was too pissed off to be nervous, and he feared he'd never calm down.

He cleared his throat. "As you can see, we had a bit of an incident today. No one was hurt and everyone is safe. This was an internal matter that has been dealt with. That's all I'm going to say for now. Thank you."

Questions fired at him as he strode back inside. Cameras flashed, but he ignored them.

Out of public view, he faced the security guards in the hallway. "Keep an extra man down here the rest of the week. I also want someone posted on the top floor until further notice. I'll let HR know about overtime or adding more help." At their nod, he forced himself to look them in the eye like Peyton had taught him. It was still a struggle at times. "You did great work today. I appreciate it."

"Thank you, sir," they both said in unison.

He found the two lobby receptionists and offered a stiff smile, focusing on the one he recognized better. "Can you have all calls from the upstairs line forwarded down here?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Gaines. Miss Smoke already asked. It's been done." The blonde with the short hair nodded. Jackie, he thought was her name.

Wait. How had Peyton gotten on top of that already? He fisted the coin in his pocket. "Thank you." He sighed. "We're going to be getting a ton of calls. If the press inquires, just state no comment."

"Miss Smoke had us do that, too. We're on it, Mr. Gaines. No problem."

Again, with Peyton. He glanced at the ceiling and frowned as if he could see her through the floors. "Can you please also reschedule the afternoon appointments on her docket and mine?"

"Consider it done, Mr. Gaines."

"Thank you." He went to head toward the elevators and paused. "One more thing. Tomorrow morning, before you report here, come up to my office, would you?"

Jackie, if he remembered her name correctly, had been a smiling face as he entered the building every day for at least the past twelve months. Best he could recall, she was always neatly dressed and had a pleasant tone. She appeared to be efficient and might be an optimal replacement for Fern, plus he preferred someone orientated to the company.

The receptionist's smile faltered. "Sure, sir. Is nine okay?"

"You're not in trouble, and nine is perfect. Just come right up." He smiled, nodded, and found the elevator. Punching the up arrow, he checked his cell.

No calls from Joseph or Peyton. Concern had him gnashing his molars. Visions of that damn stapler flying through the air skyrocketed his pulse. Jesus, he hoped she was all right.

Back on his floor, he made haste toward his office, only to find Joseph standing outside, pacing.

"She hasn't stopped moving. Phone calls and talking a mile a minute. She wouldn't even let me look at her head, which is bleeding. I was giving you five more minutes and then I was going to tackle her."

Shit. Xavier ducked his head in the room. She had her headset on and stalked the length of his office and back, a wad of tissues pressed to her temple.

"Yes, that sounds good. Send the email out to every employee right away." She checked the tissues, winced, and replaced them.

All that red sank his gut to the vicinity of his ankles. He turned to Joseph. "Tell Archie he's relieved for the day." He wouldn't be needing his driver. "And you're free to go, too. Take the rest of today off."

"Are you sure? There's no guarantee they'll hold Fern"

"Yes. We'll stay in the apartment here." If he had to restrain her, he would. No doubt, she had a concussion and couldn't be alone. He hoped she didn't need stitches.

Xavier walked Joseph to the elevators, saw him out, and locked down the floor. Shutting off the lights, he worked his way back to his office.

She was still pacing. "Correct. No, I already talked to the front desk. Just get interviews set up for the position."

Xavier took the headset from her and stuck it in his own ear. "Can I assume this is Lauren in HR?"

"Yes, Mr. Gaines. Hello."

Peyton huffed. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her. "An email went out to the employees explaining the situation?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're lining up a replacement for Fern?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want Miss Smoke in on the interviews. There's a receptionist downstairs. Blonde, young, a little pudgy. Jackie, I think? I want her at the top of the list. If she works out, you can hire another downstairs. I have her coming up tomorrow morning at nine."

"Yes, sir."

He eyed a pissed off Peyton. "I approved an extra security personnel in the lobby for this week and a permanent post up here. Last thing. Send Carson in IT a bonus. Same for Duane and Frank at the security desk. Tell accounting I okayed it. I want it done before day's end."

"Yes, sir."

"Miss Smoke and I will be unavailable the rest of the afternoon." He disconnected before another yes, sir could form.

Peyton huffed. "I had that handled."

"I know." When wasn't she juggling eight balls at once? Jesus, being in her orbit again finally settled his heart rate, though. He tossed the headset on his desk.

"And what do you mean, we're unavailable?" One tiny hand fell on her slim waist. The other still held a wad of tissues to her head. Her fitted green dress stretched across her ample chest with the motion and he forced his gaze to remain on her face. "I have appointments all"

"They're being rescheduled."

"What?" She adjusted her glasses. "Says who?"

"Me." Infuriating woman. She was entirely too irresistible all worked up. "You've been threatened, scared, shocked, and injured in the course of two hours. You're taking the rest of the day off, spending the night with me in the apartment where I can watch you for concussion side effects, and you're going to do it without argument. You live alone. What happens if you need something?"

"Damn it, X. I'm not a child and Kate is across the hall."

Unsatisfactory. "Boss card. I'm pulling it. You have two choices. A night here with me in a secure building where I can monitor you, or a trip to the ER and home with two bodyguards. Decide."