Nothing to Say, page 1
part #5 of Nothing To. Series
Copyright © 2022 Scarlett Finn
Published by Moriona Press 2022
All rights reserved.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
First published in 2022
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.scarlettfinn.com
NOTHING TO…
Nothing to Hide
Nothing to Lose
Nothing in Between: One
Nothing to Declare
Nothing to Us
Nothing in Between: Two
Nothing to Say
Nothing to Gain
Nothing to You
Read them in order for maximized reading pleasure.
For other titles from Scarlett Finn, please read on after the story.
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Enjoy!
Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
ONE
“Work. Work. Work,” Lilya Kearns said to herself, reading and typing, reading and typing, as she’d been doing all night.
Minutiae was important in her role. Details. Specifics.
Making headway was vital. Not only to keep Chester, the boss, on course, but for morale in the team. If she fell behind, catching up could cause delays and lead to a lot of backtracking. So she continued to work, long after everyone else had gone home.
The office wasn’t hers. Not exclusively. It just happened to contain one of the computers Eclipse had assigned her employer for the duration of their contract. In total, she and her nineteen colleagues had access to three company terminals. Three between twenty didn’t equal much screen time. Being there alone, she was taking advantage of every second.
Keeping them out from underfoot of the professional day-to-day Eclipse machine, they’d been designated the adjacent boardroom as their main workspace. That was her base, though she wasn’t often found there. Running around the building was part of her job too.
Offices and boardrooms lined the perimeter of the sub-level around an open-plan bullpen. The true executive floor overlooked the minions, most of whom weren’t allowed to ascend the staircase at the head of the polished corporate cavern. No. Because up there were the special people. Like gods meant to be revered, executive-level management worked in their own private sphere on a mezzanine floor looming over the grunts.
How many companies were exactly the same way? With a clear divide between those at the top and those beneath them. She’d seen it so many times. Her line of work involved vast, if temporary, experience with businesses. Many, many businesses.
“Excuse me.”
Oh, great, more interruptions.
“One sec,” she said, typing what was on the monitor into her tablet so as not to lose her place.
“This is the only open office on the floor. I realize this is inappropriate… and shocking.” What was the guy rambling about? “My office is unexpectedly occupied and…” His office? Who—she looked up. Damn. Unable to believe her eyes, her jaw dropped. “There’s a good explanation for this.”
That was Zachary Kintyre. Eclipse Incorporated CEO. In the doorway. Naked.
Yes, that warranted repetition.
Naked.
Sure, he was covering the really interesting parts with both hands, but the rest wasn’t bad to look at. Wasn’t bad at all.
As she absorbed the moment, her mouth closed. She sank back in the chair, still sort of in a daze.
“Go in. In.”
Another guy appeared behind Kintyre, nudging him into the office, using an elbow to close the door. The new guy was as naked as the first.
“I appreciate this will make a slam-dunk harassment lawsuit,” Kintyre said. “My father-in-law is in my office with a reporter… one who doesn’t like me. Yes, they do exist. We’ll talk settlement tomorrow, but can you go in there and either get rid of them or grab the suit bag from the closet?”
Her lips curled. Maybe glee was inappropriate… okay, it was. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, attempting to contain her amusement.
“She’s laughing,” the other guy said. Narrowing her gaze on him, it felt like he should be familiar. Who was he? The nudity was throwing her off. “She’s laughing, dude.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Kintyre asked over his shoulder as his counterpart shuffled up next to him. “Miss… what’s your name?”
Her fingertips touched her upper lip. “This could be the happiest moment of my life.”
Damn her lips for contorting again, but she needed this pressure release. If she could stay seated, admiring their misfortune for longer, she would, just for the excuse to relax. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in her to be cruel. She got up and went to the metal closet in the corner. Not many people got such an experience, she didn’t think anyway. What did she know about what went on at Eclipse?
“Odd, because it’s my most mortifying.”
“Oh, Mr. Kintyre…” she said, unzipping her gym bag. “I don’t believe that’s true.” Retrieving both towels, she stepped back with one in each hand. “I got a big one and a little one. Who gets what?” She raised one, then the other. “Who’s bigger than who?” No response. “Guess I should turn and toss.”
Giving them privacy, she turned her back and threw both towels over her head like a bride with her bouquet.
“Who’s your manager?”
Figuring the question meant they were decent, more decent… marginally, she returned to the desk. “You don’t know my manager.”
“I don’t?” As she sank into her seat, Kintyre folded his arms. Man, he was ripped. These billionaires were clearly driven in more than just the boardroom. “How long have you worked here?”
“Uh…” Her eyes slunk to their top corners for a moment. “About three weeks.”
“Great, she’s new staff,” guy number two said, throwing up a hand.
“She’s not new staff ‘cause we haven’t taken on new staff at this level for months.”
“Obviously, you have,” she said, smiling, absorbing the intrigue of the bold man, the owner of everything around them. “You have some balls talking down to me right now.”
Guy number two nudged Kintyre. “She has a point, we need her.”
“You have some balls talking to me like that at all,” Kintyre said, his focus steady on her. “You’re from Ranby Kearns.”
Her smile stretched. This was fun. How often did anyone get to spar with a towel-clad multibillionaire in the middle of the workplace?
Folding her arms, she pushed her shoulders back. “Your Gramercy bid hangs in the balance,” she said. “Wonder what the bosses over there would think of this.”
“That wasn’t confirmation,” he said and opened his hand. “Show me your ID.”
“What are you security now?” she asked and arched a brow. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”
For some reason, maybe the weird energy, guy number two took a deliberate step away from his buddy.
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
“And you’re still not wearing pants,” she said, flattening her hands on the desk to push up. “And… I can’t help you.”
“For religious reasons?”
That was sarcasm, but did it mean he was circumcised? What a crazy tangent. Where did that come from? Not like she was ever going to find out.
She bit her tongue and went for the truth. “Because I don’t have security clearance to get into your office. You’re on your own.”
Guy number two popped back into the periphery. “Give her clearance, Zach, man.”
More people around wouldn’t be what Kintyre wanted. “If you call security up here—”
“I don’t need security,” he said, rounding the desk, barging into her chair. “You’re on the network.”
The desktop computer came with the office, so, yeah, it was on the Eclipse network. Pretty hard to audit their data if it wasn’t.
“Why are you so nervous?” she asked the second guy. “Is the reporter after you too? What time is it?”
“You want answers to those questions or are you just going to keep firing them at him?” Kintyre was typing but still spoke before his friend. “It’s after eleven. Put your thumb on the reader.”
Fingerprint scanners reinforced all Eclipse security.
She bent over to do as asked. “Does your friend not talk?”
“He’s pissed,” Kintyre said and stood up, tucking his thumb into his towel. Hmm, was it loose? “Go. Upstairs. Get rid of them. Whatever it takes.”
“Only because I’m such a good person,” she said, whirling around to sashay out of the office and up the celestial stairway.
Wouldn’t be so bad for a billionaire CEO to owe her a favor. Teasing him might be fun, but playing with him could be dangerous.
The only other time she’d been on the upper executive floor was during the quick tour they got on their first day. On that day, Kintyre hadn’t been anywhere in sight.
Going over to the tall glass door and pressing her thumb to the reader in the silver handle, she got a buzz when it automatically opened.
“Good evening!” she projected her voice to gain the focus of the two men at the opposite end of the room.
The city lights glittered on the other side of the inky black windows. Illumination was lower than during the day. Had they set it that way? Seemed odd.
“Who are you?” the older of the two gentlemen asked. “Where’s my son-in-law?”
“Unfortunately…” she started, clasping her hands. “Mr. Kintyre cannot meet with you this evening.” This evening? It was after eleven p.m. Who showed up at almost midnight for a business meeting? “You can make an appointment with—”
“He is my family,” the older man said, marching over. “I can see him whenever I want.”
“Okay,” she said, because who was she to argue with warped logic? “Then I would recommend calling him because he’s not here now.” In that exact room. That wasn’t a lie. “I’m sorry.”
Not really. It seemed rude, in her opinion. Maybe that was the way the family worked. What kind of guy hid from his wife’s father? The guy owned a multinational, not like he’d owe the guy money.
“Where is he?”
“I’m sorry, sir—”
“Is he with Julietta?” the second guy asked, wandering their way. “I’m Reeve Crosby.” The reporter, she assumed. Why did he hate Kintyre? Maybe ‘cause he gallivanted around semi-nude with his buddies late at night. “Julietta hasn’t been in contact with her parents for a couple of days. Henri here, Mr. Ines, is very worried about his daughter’s safety.”
Ines. Julietta. Damnit. Right. Julietta Ines-Kintyre. The actress. Gorgeous… Weren’t the media always talking about her divorce? Maybe the couple were reconciling.
“I understand that. My suggestion would be calling the police,” she said, because that was the advice she’d give anyone missing a relative. “They have the resources—”
“No,” Henri Ines stated. “We don’t need that kind of publicity. The divorce has caused enough disruption.”
If the man wasn’t willing to call the cops because he wanted to save face, he wasn’t really that worried about his daughter. So either it was about power or control… maybe both.
“As I said, all I can suggest is giving Mr. Kintyre a call.”
“He should be here.”
“If he’s with Julietta…” Reeve said, “there’s more to the story.”
Could be. What did she know? That Kintyre wasn’t with Julietta, she knew that… At least he hadn’t been while in her office. Maybe the beautiful actress was the reason both men ended up in their naked predicament.
“We will wait here all night. He’ll show up eventually,” Henri said, whipping around to pace away.
Intrigue on the reporter’s face followed him. “Do you believe they’re together?”
“Please…” Lilya said before Henri could respond. “You can continue your conversation elsewhere.”
Henri spun to face her. “You can’t… How dare you… You can’t dismiss me.”
“No, but security can.” This was whatever it took territory. “You can’t remain here alone. I’m sorry. I will not take responsibility for leaving you here.”
If she was some assistant, maybe new staff, would she be so bold? Maybe not… Actually, yeah, she would. These men were strangers to her. Kintyre wasn’t expecting them. If she left them alone and something got broken or stolen, or they died in a horrible building fire, that would be on her.
“No one asked you to be here,” Henri snapped.
“I could say the same to you, sir,” she said and backed up to open the door.
The men made eye contact, obviously considering their options. What could they do?
Nothing. Getting thrown out of the building would be the kind of scandal Henri was apparently trying to avoid.
So with a huff and a tug on each of his cuffs, Henri marched out of the office. The reporter went too, his curious eye remaining on her until he passed.
Just to make sure they were really leaving, she followed them all the way to the elevator. She waited until they were inside with the doors closed before exhaling.
Job done.
Strolling back to the office, Ranby Kearns temporary office, she went in, ignoring the men still loitering there.
“What did you say to them?” Kintyre’s friend asked.
Either they’d heard the elevator or peeked, so knew the intruders were gone.
“That,” she said, retrieving her jacket, purse, and gym bag from the corner closet. “Is between me and those I evicted.” She started for the door again. “Any more screwing around tonight, you’re on your own. I’m leaving. Goodnight!”
She didn’t turn, just waved out to the side and sauntered off. Some people said working too much wasn’t good for a person. Could be true… or maybe sticking around long enough could put a person in exactly the right place at the right time.
TWO
Kneeling on the boardroom floor, matching files to the codes on her tablet, movement interrupted her concentration.
Someone moving actually.
The big Eclipse boss man, clothed big boss man, strode past the glass fronted boardroom, drawing the attention of many in the bullpen.
He didn’t often go anywhere alone, especially anywhere on that level. Curious, she tracked his purpose. Was he heading for the office next door? Yes. Where they’d met last night. Her boss’s office.
The cry of joy confirmed someone was home.
“Mr. Kintyre!”
Oh, she had never loved Chester’s open-door policy more.
“I was… looking for someone.” Kintyre. “Whose office is this?”
“Chester Stevenson,” her boss introduced himself.
She couldn’t see the pair but could hear her boss’s enthusiasm.
“Excuse me,” Kintyre said, and came into view again, his back to the open boardroom door.
Hmm, what was bothering the billionaire?
She read the next file number. “Lose something, Kintyre?” she called loud enough to be heard over the susurration of the bullpen.
He whirled around just in time to see a smile tug at her lips.
“I was…” he started before striding in and closing the door. “I thought that was your office.”
“We’re a small team,” she said, retrieving the next file from the box. “Chester runs the show. He gets the office. The rest of us work where we can.”
“You were in there last night.”
“When no one else was around,” she said and teased him with another smile. “Did you come looking for me?”
“I came to thank you for last night. And for your discretion today.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, shrugging as she turned the file around. “Figure it’s never bad for a billionaire to owe me one… If things get tight, I can blackmail you into paying my rent.” His lips shifted, just a little, but that was definitely a glimmer of a smile. “Huh…” Sinking back, her shoulders loosened in curiosity. “You’re cute when you smile.” His brows rose like the compliment was unexpected, though his amusement grew. “Don’t look so surprised. Bet you hear that all the time. Your wife must tell you every day.”
“Ex-wife,” he said, coming a couple of steps closer, twisting his head to inspect her files. “What are you doing?”
