To Fight A Fate Page 8

  With the board of directors now working for him, if Gammon produced big results over the next five years, then he would have the world’s richest companies clamouring for his services following the hand over of the firm to Dimity. Yeah, Marcus couldn’t blame Gammon or his tactics, he just had to circumnavigate them an ensure their cover remained intact.

  Gammon wanted to rebrand the network, turn it into a respectable, reputable media offering. He wanted to cast off the schlock. Gone was the dog training and the dating your ex-husband shows. Now Gammon had set his sights on Para-Exterminators. The show had promise, he said. But he wanted to see results. Scientific, provable results.

  With that in mind Gammon had produced a list of locations he expected the team to investigate. And flashing a set of perfect, too white teeth, Gammon insisted that he had the perfect person to fill in for Hadleigh while she was on maternity leave.

  Michael Preston, Maat Enterprises CEO, had done his best to try and mitigate Gammon’s interference. But Gammon had come prepared, drawing their attention to the contract granting the cable company permission to designate filming locations and staffing choices where a role had been left vacant for over two months.

  They were backed into a corner and there was little they could do but deal with these new challenges.

  The new locations would be fine. Marcus had instructed his hackers to begin investigating them, sure that even if they were supernatural hotspots that fact would never be proven on film. At least not by them.

  And as for their new team member. Marcus couldn’t help but think that Gammon, being such a savvy operator, had either seized an opportunity to off load a major problem, or was intentionally hamstringing them.

  The contract with Forrest Media was air tight, with another two years left before it was due to be re-negotiated. Their product was guaranteed air time. The only way they could be fired was if they failed to deliver forty-two minutes of footage by the weekly deadline. Was Heath Gammon setting them up to fail? Deliberately, knowingly, releasing a monster in to their midst. One creating chaos and havoc. One that six (Vaughn otherwise occupied with hovering over his pregnant wife) semi-immortal Elite Warriors of Maat found themselves incapable of defeating.

  Bloody hell, breaching their contract might get them a reputation in the industry that would be hard to shake, making it a challenge to sign with another reputable operation. Plus, none of the other cable companies had half the Nationwide coverage that Forrest media had.

  So they would take on the mini-monster, Dimity Forrest, as the new sidekick. That’s if Hadleigh’s monster slayer could deliver… doubtful. No, he’d said he’d give Riya a chance to fail… he meant succeed, she still hadn’t waved the white flag of surrender, yet.

  Marcus tapped a couple more keys. Leaning back in his swivel chair he propped his booted feet up on the edge of his desk and glanced up at the list of locations Gammon had nominated. Hmmm, interesting, his team of hackers and already started researching the locations and begun adding details. So far no red flags had been raised. They seemed to be just what they were, a bunch of random locations that had a few reports of strange - hard to explain - things happenings of late.

  Yes, they were all five star locations, but that probably just fit in with Gammon’s mission to make Para-X seem more legitimate and scientific, giving the appearance they were being called in by the rich and powerful.

  With a few more taps, Marcus began sifting through a myriad of incoming data. He split the wall sized screen into segments. Trying to pin down if the Chinese or Russians were planning a space launch anytime soon, and if they had room for five cursed rubies on their payload.

  On another section of the screen he followed up on possible sightings of Sek and Mot called into the police hotline.

  On yet another segment of the screen he called up a listing of stocks Maat Enterprises currently invested in and began plotting their daily progress against the Nasdaq. Simultaneously running searches on all the companies on yet another section of the screen, looking for potential dark clouds on the horizon.

  Marcus found himself sinking into a blissful trance. Searching. Plotting. Planning. Information gathering. Fingers tapping, zipping, scrolling lightning fast over the wireless keyboard in his lap as his eyes remained glued to the wall-sized screen where all the action was happening.

  No one ever interrupted him in his lair unless it was a code five emergency. And no one ever entered without his express permission, which Marcus rarely granted. So it came as a bit of a surprise when his booted feet were shoved off the desk and a sharp fingernail was jabbed into the middle of his chest, hard.

  Marcus found himself looking up into hazel pools shimmering with green threads of liquid fire. “Problem?”

  Riya glanced briefly down and then amped up her fiercest glare. Great, and now she’d broken a nail on top of everything else. “You bet there’s a problem.”

  Marcus assessed Riya quickly. She looked okay, no signs of injury. At the least the spoilt little monster hadn’t hurt her. “I’m guessing things didn’t go so well with Dimity?” He would not gloat. He would not say I told you so. “Well, it was a long shot her being tamed by bunch of clothes.”

  “You can wipe that smirk off your face.”

  “I’m not even smiling.”

  “I can see it in your eyes.” Riya rested her hands on her hips, beginning to tap her foot. “And I’ll have you know that Dimity loved everything I showed her. So much so she’s decided she wants the entire rack.”

  “Okay, sounds like a start in the right direction to making her more pliable. I don’t see the problem, you can just send the bill care of me here, I’m sure the cost of a few tops and skirts won’t bankrupt us.”

  Riya grit her teeth, he was just so smug, so arrogant. “I already have, check your email.”

  Marcus tapped in the commands, his eyes flicking to the screen behind Riya. “That much? For a bunch of clothes?”

  “Yes, and that’s with the family and friends discount.”

  “What’s with the last line, services rendered, and a question mark next to it?”

  “That’s the problem. When I told Dimity I was leaving she kind of had another hissy fit.”

  “Shit, I’d better call maintenance.”

  “No, it’s fine, there was just a lot of wailing, weeping and hair pulling. But I stood firm, I have a life, a job. My boutique doesn’t open itself you know.”

  “And?” Marcus was surprised to find that a very small part of him was enjoying having Riya looming over him, scowling, challenging him.

  “Dimity rang someone named Heath and he double-checked a contract and advised that Para-Exterminators has listed amongst their employees, a Wardrobe Stylist. A position it seems that has never been filled.”

  Marcus shrugged. “I think we used a boilerplate contract when we first signed with Forrest Media, it probably got left in by mistake.”

  “Mistake? Mistake! Well, meet your new Wardrobe Stylist, Charming.”

  “Excuse me?” Marcus was calling up the contract. Shit, if it was there, and the role was vacant, then Heath Gammon had every right to fill it. Damn. He stared at the proof on the big screen in black and white. How had that gotten through? “You’re right, damn. Look, I’ll fix it, okay. We’ll find someone to fill the role who can pander to Dimity’s ego.”

  “Dimity says it’s me, or no one.” Riya advised through gritted teeth. The girl was spoilt and beyond stubborn.

  “Then it’s you, Riya. At least for seven more weeks, until the end of the season. That will give me a couple of months to find a replacement Dimity approves of. We need to keep the Forrest camp happy. If Para-Exterminators is pulled from the air, there goes our cover.”

  Riya released a small sigh. “I empathise. But let’s go back to my earlier statement. The one where I have a life, a job and a business waiting for me on the other side of the world.”

  “We’ll pay you.”

  “Not everything is about money.”
Riya rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t be doing this, taunting Marcus like this. Given the number of suitcases she’d brought along, it was a given that Fate had more work for her to do here, but why should she make things easy for the big arrogant jerk?

  “Do you have any idea how many people Para-Exterminators helps on and off screen every year? I have the information here, if you want to take a look. If our cover is destroyed a lot of people may be hurt.”

  Riya tossed her head defiantly. There he went again, pigeon-holing her and her magic in the pithy - not to be taken seriously - category. “Do you have any idea how many people I help every year? Let me get my accountant to forward you the numbers. I know how much you like numbers.”

  Marcus’s assessing blue eyes narrowed. “What’s it going to take?”

  “An apology wouldn’t go astray.”

  “For what?”

  “I did succeed in taming the wild beast after six Elite Warriors of Maat tried and failed.”

  “You’re right. My sincerest apologies for ever doubting you or your abilities.”

  Riya stared at Marcus hard. That had been too easy. He’d given in too readily. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing. So you’ll take the job?”

  “As if I ever had a choice. Too many of my cousins are married to your fellow Warriors to let me just walk away.”

  “Family.” Marcus snapped his fingers. “I should have led with the guilt trip first. So, I have your word of honour that you will fulfil the role of… Wardrobe Stylist for the remainder of the season?”

  “Yes. My word.” Riya prayed she wouldn’t regret this. Fate had a funny way of coming back to bite you on the ass when you least expected it.

  “Okay. Now that you are on official Dimity Forrest wrangling duty, I’ll forward you her schedule. It will be your responsibility to ensure she sticks to it. Nothing too demanding; media 101, self-defence, some fitness and weight training.”

  “Whoa, what do you mean I’m on official Dimity Forrest wrangling duty?”

  Marcus couldn’t help but smile. “Do you know of anyone else on the team who is going to need a Wardrobe Stylist?”

  “Actually, those uniforms of yours could use a little updating.”

  “We’re old-fashioned guys, I think we’ll stick with what we’ve got. No, you’ll have only one job, one person to keep happy. Ensure that Dimity turns up on time. Knows the script. Hits her mark. And refrains from any more tantrums or property damage. Basically, what ever Dimity Forrest wants, if it keeps her happy, you see that she gets it.”

  Crap, just what she was talking about, Fate coming back to bite her on the ass. You try to help out. Try to do the right thing. “You’re asking the impossible.”

  “I thought you were up to any challenge? That the clothes of destiny woo-woo crap could win wars, lure lovers, smite enemies?”

  So that was the way he wanted to play it. Fine. “You should take a look at the second email I sent you.” Riya knew she’d hit pay dirt as Marcus’s mouth immediately flattened and dark ocean blue eyes sparked.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “Dimity doesn’t think Serena’s old space suits her unique style. That’s the bill for re-designing it per her specifications, less the demolition work, Dimity has pretty much taken care of that personally.”

  “That’s outrageous.” Marcus stared at the quote.

  “You said it yourself. Anything to keep her happy. And the design team are willing to drop everything and start right away.”

  “Bloody hell.” It might cost them less if they failed to fulfil their contractual obligations to Forrest Media, paid the hefty fines and re-negotiated a whole new contract with a less reputable, minor player in the cable market. “Fine.” Marcus managed to get the word out from between gritted teeth.

  Riya laughed, she couldn’t help it. The man got his way far too often, that was his problem. Sitting in his hi-tech lair. Playing puppet master. Charming was too used to gathering information and using it as ammunition. It was good to shake him out of his structured world. Surprise him. Remind him that life was full of the unexpected and not everything could be planned for.

  “You’re going to need a place to stay.” Marcus called up the building specs. “How about the apartment next to where we have Dimity?”

  “Only if the walls are sound proof.”

  “Done. Your fingerprint will open 8303. It has a kitchen and three bedrooms… oh, but not a cot. Will you need one?”

  “A cot? Why would I need a cot?”

  Marcus frowned, was he using the wrong terminology? “For the kid.”

  Riya met and matched his frown. “What kid?”

  “Your kid. Remember?” Marcus held his hands out in front of his belly to provide Riya with a visual aid. By the Sands, he would never have pegged her as a forgetful, neglectful mother but she was certainly pushing the boundaries here.

  “Oh, yes, of course. The kid is fine.”

  Hmm, why was she suddenly being evasive and not meeting his gaze? Had something gone wrong with the baby? No, Riya didn’t look sad, just suddenly secretive. Perhaps she’d given the baby up for adoption. After all, he had made some seriously good points about the difficulties of raising a kid alone. And she was alone, one of the first things he’d double-checked upon seeing her again was her ring finger. Still bare.

  Nah, he couldn’t imagine the close knit extended family that populated the Southern Sanctuary not rallying around and supporting Riya. So, what was the big secret? “What did you end up having? A boy, or a girl?”

  Riya shrugged. She supposed she could just tell Marcus about her time-travelling, Fate fixing – yet to be born - baby. But Charming gave her enough grief about being a Fate Weaver. He was a man who liked hard, physical, incontrovertible facts. A time travelling baby, burning with curiosity and wanting to witness its parents meeting for the first time would take a lot of explanation. “The usual, ten fingers, ten toes. No complaints.”

  Marcus didn’t deal with a lot of parents but he knew enough to gauge that Riya was acting strangely. Usually there was gushing. And cutesy stories about first smiles and first words. And pictures. Why wasn’t she shoving her phone in his face and demanding he admire her progeny’s first step?

  Second to trouble, he despised secrets.

  So just what was Riya hiding? And why?

  Well, the one thing Marcus prided himself on was his ability to ferret out the truth. Riya might think she could keep things from but… hold on. His plate was full, remember. Chaos rubies to destroy. Sek and Mot to find. A reality TV show to protect from corporate scrutiny.

  Not to mention with Vaughn distracted and refusing to travel too far from Hadleigh’s side they were all having to pitch in more time to handle the supernatural cases they tackled off-camera. The ones they needed to keep on the down low and off books.

  No, the one thing Marcus didn’t have time for was a complicated woman with secrets. So he would just treat Riya like any other work colleague. He would be polite. He would be respectful. And he would stay out of her personal space. Avoid temptation… temptation? Of what? Nope, he refused to get further distracted by the woman. Though with her still looming over him, he wondered how he was going to keep her out of his personal space.

  “Anything else?”

  Riya blinked. She should be thankful that Marcus was done grilling her about her future baby, but a small part of her had kind of enjoyed squabbling with him. Matching wits and trying to get under his skin. Which meant absolutely nothing other than she liked a challenge. And okay, it was nice when those hypnotic ocean blue eyes sparked with high emotion and that sensual mouth of his twisted up at the corners in amusement.

  But that meant nothing other than she preferred that look on his face to his usual focused expression. The one that meant he was clearly dissecting and analysing every move she made and everything she said and logging it away under a file in that big brain box of his marked with her name.

  So she pref
erred it when Marcus acted like a man rather than a computer. Who wouldn’t? Right. It didn’t signify anything. But just in case, maybe she should back off. They were work colleagues now. With that in mind, Riya took two casual steps away from him. Other than the actual filming of an episode it wasn’t like she would even need to spend much time with him.

  “Guess I’ll go call the design team and tell them they can get to work.”

  “Good.” She was going? Marcus’s gut clenched, he didn’t like the idea of Riya walking away from him. But he tamped down hard on that anomalous reaction. He had work to do, a lot of work, and this woman was only a distraction. “Don’t let me keep you.” He forced his fingers to start typing, not even sure if he was hitting the keys.

  Riya’s eyes narrowed. Lovely, now Charming couldn’t kick her out of his office fast enough. “You know, once the design team are finished with Dimity’s space, I could have them take a look in here. Maybe add a few creature comforts.” She glanced around at the sparsely decorated room. Besides the desk and chair, there were only two large leather sofas facing one another, separated by a low narrow coffee table, with a well stocked bar off to one side. The only personal touch were two fractal pieces of art hanging side by side off to the right. The room didn’t really scream comfortable. “A window wouldn’t hurt.”

  “A window would be a distraction.” Marcus forced himself to focus on the screen, what was he even reading? “And I don’t do distractions.”

  Riya grit her teeth. Had Charming really just inferred that she was nothing more than a distraction? And now he was dismissing her? Grr, what was it about this man that tried her temper? She, who had barely raised an eyebrow when one of her brothers, at aged thirteen, sneezed and set the family cat on fire. Poor Lucky. Thankfully their cousin Fen Valhalla had been there and snuffed the flames right out.