Forever Notorious: Forever Bluegrass #11 Page 5
“Hello, sweetheart.” He leaned down and kissed Abby’s cheek.
“I didn’t know you’d be here, Sebastian.”
Sebastian Able was the president’s best friend. He’d started the biggest tech company and then slowly branched out until he was a global power. She’d met him through a mutual friend about six months before. She understood he was a man with secrets, and he didn’t push to know hers. She’d been surprised when they’d hit it off since he was about ten years older than her twenty-eight years. But she was used to being around older men with her job. Abby hadn’t thought much about her first meeting with him until he had called a week later and asked her to attend an event with him.
Five events later, they were solidified as each other’s go-to dates even though they’d never once talked about a relationship. What they had simply worked for them. They talked when they wanted to and the other person was always available for the other when they needed a date. When it came down to it, they just got each other. She’d talked to Sebastian once while she was in Keeneston. He’d been in Bali, probably with some of the models he liked to take with him. Again, they hadn’t even determined if they’d had a relationship and didn’t hold each other to exclusivity. Not that they’d done more than go out on a couple of dates and talk . . . except for that one time. So, it really was more like Layne’s friends with benefits idea, just with very few benefits so far.
Sebastian took the seat next to hers and she looked over to see the side of his lips quiver as she tried not to smirk. Instead he leaned over toward her. “I think about it too. It was fun. We should try that again.”
Abby’s body said yes, but her mind wasn’t quite there. It had happened and she wasn’t going to deny that it hadn’t been great. But it had happened not because they were in a loving relationship, but because she’d just gotten back from a shootout where she’s rescued six American aid workers and wanted to blow off steam. Instead, she came back to an empty house. So, she’d called Sebastian and asked him out for drinks.
He hadn’t asked her questions, but he’d known exactly what she needed. Probably because he recognized it in himself . . . loneliness. And it had been exceptional. Not the best she’d had, but damn close. Close enough that she thought twice about saying no the next time he had offered. Sebastian had shrugged and never pushed again. That’s what she liked about him. He was powerful enough to take what he wanted. But with her, he was patient and respectful.
“So, what’s going on? Why am I here with Sebastian?” Abby asked when Birch took a seat behind his desk. To her right, a wall of televisions were on mute as all the news stations around the world played.
“Sometimes, Sebastian helps me out with things,” Birch said, sounding slightly uncomfortable. “Things that can’t be linked to the government.”
“Isn’t that what I’m here for?” Abby asked, wondering why Birch was being so free with information around Sebastian. She knew Sebastian was close to the president, but this information was beyond top secret.
Birch grimaced. “Yes and no. Sure, we’ll never claim you, but someone, somewhere knows who you are working for. The person at the training facility, your recruiter, and so on. Not many, but you do have to report to certain higher-ups. Sebastian doesn’t. Tell her what you found,” he said, turning to his best friend.
“First, so many things now make sense after Birch told me about you. But anyway, let me get to the point. You know I got my start in tech. Well, I have a dude—”
Birch snickered. “He’s got you saying it now.”
Sebastian shot the president of the United States the finger. When he put down his middle finger, he continued. “I have a guy,” he said, stressing the replacement word. “He looked into all the finances of Relief Fund for the Earth and found something.”
Birch clicked a button and the screen filled with reports. “What am I looking at?” Abby asked as she stood up to get a better look at the data. If the president trusted Sebastian with this information, she was in no position to second-guess him.
“Donations being made to Chet. See, two million was gathered for the Children’s Relief Fund,” Sebastian said, pointing to a line on the screen. Abby nodded as she saw it. “Then here. It was used to build a school. The building materials cost two hundred thousand. It was relatively cheap because it’s a developing nation. Anyway,” Sebastian said, pointing down the line of numbers. “This is the labor cost.”
“Jeez. Why is labor a million dollars?”
“Because it was a payoff. Who controls that area?”
“Terrorists,” Abby said, getting it. “And the five hundred thousand in permits went to the corrupt, terrorist-led government.”
“Exactly,” Sebastian told her as he took his seat again.
Birch sat back in his chair. “See, Chet was technically truthful. He used the money to build a school. However, he also managed to get the bulk of that clean money into the hands of terrorists.”
“My guy has found eight instances of this. Chet’s group has funded some of the world’s worst, while at the same time building four schools, one medical facility, funding a citizens police force in the mountains of Afghanistan, funding research into oceanic cleanup, and buying land for an animal sanctuary,” Sebastian explained as Abby saw the data for each charitable fund.
“Wow, at most ten percent of all funds goes to actual charity work. The rest goes to fund terrorists.”
“That’s right,” Birch told her. “And there’s no allegiance to any group. He funds terror groups that are fighting each other for power, groups that are in power, and groups that just want to stay by themselves getting away with as much as they can. There’s no rhyme or reason except Chet seems to enjoy being in the spotlight as this humanitarian when he’s in fact funding some the world’s most violent atrocities.”
Abby sat back in the chair and looked between two of the most powerful men in the world. One ran the country and the other essentially ran quite a bit of the private sector. The question was: what was she doing here?
“What are my orders?” Abby didn’t even look at Sebastian as she kept her gaze on the president.
“There’s buzz about a party—a very select party with people of real power in position to do some very bad things. I need you to get invited.”
Abby felt her eyes lift in surprise. “Again? That’s not going to be easy. Am I supposed to wander the beach again?”
“That’s where I come in,” Sebastian said in his deep voice as he casually leaned back in the chair and placed an ankle over a knee.
“You? With all due respect, you’re not trained for this. Birch has brought you in for valuable intelligence, but that’s completely different from being on the ground. You’d be a liability,” Abby said, her voice rising as she sat forward in her chair.
“It may surprise you, sweetheart, but I have something of a dangerous reputation,” Sebastian said with a chill to his voice that would leave most men quaking. But Abby wasn’t most men. Instead she snorted with disbelief.
“Please, you wouldn’t survive ten minutes at my family’s dinner table.”
“Abby,” Birch said seriously, “this isn’t up for debate. Take Sebastian with you to your cousin’s fundraiser in Atlanta. Chet will be making an appearance at The Daughters of Elizabeth Ball to drop off a twenty-five-thousand-dollar check—one of his good deeds to keep his charitable image intact. Leave the rest to Sebastian. He’ll get you both an invite.”
Abby turned to Sebastian as she shook her head. “You know I like you, but I can’t have you holding me back. Let me do this my way.”
“I’ve given you my order, Abby,” Birch said as she stood up. He was dismissing her. Great, now she was on a mission with friends, family, and her non-boyfriend all at the same place. What could possibly go wrong?
5
Atlanta, Georgia . . .
* * *
Abby should have refused the direct order. Inside the party, Piper and Aiden Creed were talking with
Abby’s parents. Marshall and Katelyn Davies, and of course, their daughter, Sydney, who was the hostess of the party with her husband, Deacon, were standing close by.
“Shit,” Abby groaned from where she sat in the back of a limousine.
“What is it?” Sebastian asked. He was sitting patiently next to her with one hand on her knee and the other scrolling through his cell phone.
“See that sexy guy walking by us right now?”
“I’m not one to be intimidated by men, but that is a very handsome man,” Sebastian agreed.
“That’s because his mother and sister are supermodels.”
“Wyatt Davies. Large-animal veterinarian. Single. Should I be worried?”
Abby gave an unladylike snort. “We’d have to have a relationship first, and I know a girlfriend is the last thing you want.”
“True, and since neither of us want that, I don’t see a problem,” Sebastian said with a smirk before looking back at his phone.
“That’s one more person from Keeneston who might recognize me.”
Sebastian looked up from his phone and looked her over slowly. “I like you as a redhead. Very sexy.”
Abby rolled her now-green eyes as Sebastian went back to work on his phone. This time Abby had a wig on, and she hoped Chet wouldn’t notice. The plan was to ambush him outside so there’d be less chance of a confrontation with someone she knew. Then she’d ditch the wig and contacts and she’d head into the party while Sebastian went back to his hotel unseen by any of her friends or family.
“There’s Chet,” Abby said, making a move to open the door. Sebastian’s hand tightened on her knee, preventing her from moving.
“This is my show now. Just go with it, countess.”
Abby shivered at Sebastian’s cool voice. It somehow managed to be in charge and seductive at the same time. Otherwise she’d have punched him in the shoulder for telling her what to do.
Sebastian opened his door and slid out. He leaned down and held out his hand for her to take. Abby wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed so hard she felt him chuckle. He knew he’d pissed her off.
Abby let him pull her from the limousine. As she straightened her dress, she saw Chet walking to the limo parked behind them. Sebastian ran his hand down her side and flexed his fingers into her hips. “Say my name,” he breathed into her ear a moment before his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck.
“Sebastian!” Abby said on command as she closed her eyes and let her head loll to the side. “Why, Mr. Able, you naughty man.”
That did it. She heard Chet’s footfall stop. “Countess?”
Sebastian slowly took his lips from her neck and turned with a scowl at the intruder. Abby blinked with faux surprise. “Chet, darling! What are you doing here?”
Chet looked between them and a smile that could charm the skin from a snake spread across his lips. He zeroed in on his target: Sebastian. “I just presented a check to Sydney McKnight. Do you know her?”
Abby shook her head. “This is Sebastian’s thing. I’m along for the ride.” Abby giggled and felt her IQ drop.
“Chet Pottinger,” Chet said, taking control of the situation and holding out his hand to Sebastian.
“Sebastian Able.” Sebastian turned and dismissed him. Abby looked up at Sebastian and he winked.
“Countess,” Chet said with his smile firmly in place, “is Sebastian one of our newest members? Have you told him the good things we do?”
Sebastian turned and blocked Abby from view. She fumed at his back, but orders were orders and the president made it clear that Sebastian was in charge of securing the invitation.
“No offense, Chetty, but good deeds aren’t really my style. I’m here solely for the PR after the little incident that made the papers the other day. I didn’t get this powerful by being nice.”
Chet was quiet, Sebastian was quiet, and Abby was quiet. The muted sounds of the party were all she could hear as she held her breath and stared at Sebastian’s wide shoulders.
“I think I might have just the thing for you. A gathering of like-minded people at my estate in Costa Rica. Day after tomorrow. Are you interested?” Chet asked. His voice had dropped and Abby had to lean forward to hear him. Luckily, Sebastian’s shoulders kept her blocked from view.
“Depends. What kind of meeting? What would it do for me?” Sebastian asked with a shrug.
“It’ll change your life.” Abby could almost picture Chet’s smirk and shivered. This wasn’t his salesman’s voice. In fact, it sounded remarkably like Sebastian’s cold tone.
“Sorry. The countess has been talking to me about joining your group, but it’s all a little too sunshine and flowers for me.” Sebastian made a move to turn toward her when Chet cut him off.
“Juan Carolinto will be there.”
Abby stopped breathing. Juan Carolinto was a huge arms dealer who had amassed such a fortune that he was looking to buy the Mexican presidency.
“You have my attention. Now hold it,” Sebastian ordered.
“Omar Wasti will also be there.” Birch was going to flip his lid. Omar was on the terror list. “You might not have heard of him, but Prince Tariq of Bermalia will also be in attendance, and I have it on good authority he’ll be the next king. It could be good for business.”
“I’ll think about it,” Sebastian said before reaching back for Abby. She let herself be pulled to his side as she smiled up at him. “Put us on the list and we’ll see. Send the countess the details.”
And then Sebastian walked away. Abby looked over her shoulder and gave a little wave to Chet as they headed toward the estate. “I can’t go in there looking like this,” Abby hissed as she tightened her grip on Sebastian’s hand.
“Don’t worry,” Sebastian reached into his pocket and a second later his phone rang. “Talk.”
Abby stopped to let Sebastian take his call, although it didn’t sound as if there was anyone on the other end of the call. At least no one she could hear. But it had stopped Sebastian near the front of the limo. While he kept his back to Chet, she was able to glance around. She saw Chet give them a last look and then get into the back of his own limo.
The second Chet was out of sight, Abby hurried back to their limo. She tore off her wig and had her fingers in her eyes when she heard the scariest sound of the night.
“Abby? What are you doing out here . . . with him?”
No, no, no! Sebastian was supposed to be gone before she ran into anyone and this wasn’t just anyone. With shaking fingers, she plucked the last contact from her eye and stood up. When she turned, she’d plastered on an excited smile. “Dad! What are you doing out here?”
“A question for a question is not an answer. Remember who taught you,” Ahmed said with a raised eyebrow before he turned narrowed eyes onto Sebastian.
Sebastian, for once in his life, looked stunned. “Did you say, Dad?” Sebastian whispered.
“Yes. That’s right. I’m the dad.” Her father snarled through clenched teeth. “I’m the overprotective, find-you-anywhere, castrate-you-while-you-watch kind of dad. I don’t clean my guns in front of you when you come to pick up my baby, they’re already cleaned and well used. Now tell me exactly what you’re doing with my little girl.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Daaaad.”
Sebastian swallowed hard but reached for Abby’s hand. Abby slapped him away. “We’re, um, Abby?”
“Dad, this is Sebastian Able. He’s a friend of mine from DC. He’s here to write a big fat check to Sydney’s charity. Isn’t that great?” Abby asked, but her father didn’t answer. “Sebastian, this is my father, Ahmed Mueez.”
“I kill people,” Ahmed said as way of introduction.
“I believe you,” Sebastian said, holding out his hand. A hand that suddenly looked a little shaky. Chet Pottinger didn’t scare Sebastian, but one little overprotective father had him trembling.
Her father didn’t reach for the outstretched hand. Instead, he looked Sebastian up and d
own slowly. Considering Sebastian was a couple inches taller and a good thirty pounds more than her father, he was still looking like a scared little boy in front of her dad. Great, another potential boyfriend bites the dust. What little chance Sebastian had was now gone. She could never be with someone who didn’t stand tall with her dad.
“Honey, what’s taking you . . . Abby!”
“Hi, Mom!” Abby said with a wave and a smile. Her mom should calm things down a bit.
“You’re not alone.”
“Does she have guns too?” Sebastian asked.
Ahmed smiled. “Yes. And attack dogs.”
Sebastian gulped.
“Oh goodness. Abby, why didn’t you tell me you were particular friends with Sebastian Able?” Bridget asked as she reached over and slipped her hand into her husband’s.
“Not particular. Not anything. Isn’t that right?” Ahmed growled.
Abby rolled her eyes again. “Sebastian is just a friend, Mom. He’s here to donate to Sydney’s foundation.”
“I never got to meet you, Sebastian. I’m Bridget Mueez. I supplied your personal security force—”Bridget looked around, noting there wasn’t anyone around them except for the driver sitting in the limo,“—with your dogs. One to patrol your house and one for your headquarters.”
Sebastian finally took a breath. “That was you? Ace and Bronx are great at their jobs. And I heard from the men who handle them that you offered a wonderful training class for them as well.”
“Yes, the dog is only as good as the person on the end of the leash. So, tell me how you know our little Abby.” Bridget held out her hand and Sebastian leapt forward, offering her his arm as they began walking back inside.