Secrets, Lies & Lullabies

“It was Alexander Bajoran,” Jessica said in a harsh whisper, leaning so far across the small round deli table that her nose very nearly touched her cousin’s.

“You’re kidding,” Erin returned in an equally hushed voice, her eyes going wide in amazement.

Jessica shook her head, crossed her arms over her chest and flopped back in her chair, causing her cousin to move forward in hers. Their sandwiches sat untouched in front of them, their ice-filled fountain drinks slowly producing rivulets of condensation down the sides of the paper cups.

“Did he recognize you?” Erin asked.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say anything, but he was looking at me a little funny.”

“Funny, how?”

Jessica flashed her a tiny grin. “The usual.”

“Well, you do tend to stand out.”

Jessica stuck her tongue out at her cousin’s teasing. “We can’t all be prim and proper Jackie O wannabes.”

“Nobody’s asking you to be Jackie O. The family just wishes you weren’t quite so intent on being the next Courtney Love.”

Following through on the natural instincts that had probably earned her that reputation in the first place, Jessica flipped her cousin a good-natured hand gesture. Not the least offended by the response, Erin merely rolled her eyes.

“Actually, your unique personal style may work in our favor. You don’t look at all the way you did five years ago. Chances are, Bajoran won’t have a clue who you are.”

“I hope not. I’ll try to switch floors with Hilda, though. That should keep me from accidentally bumping into him again.”

“No, don’t do that!” Erin said quickly. “The fact that he doesn’t recognize you is a good thing. You can move around his suite freely without arousing suspicion.”

“Arousing suspicion?” Jessica repeated. “Who am I—James Bond?”

“If I could do it, I would, believe me,” Erin told her with no small amount of bitterness leeching into her voice. “But you’re the one he already thinks is a chambermaid.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Why does that matter?”

“Because it means you can move around the lodge without being noticed. You know what men like Bajoran are like. Rich and self-absorbed … to him, you’ll be all but invisible.”

Jessica understood her cousin’s anger, really she did. Fifty years ago, Alexander Bajoran’s grandfather and great-uncle had launched Bajoran Designs. Soon after, they’d begun a partnership with Jessica’s and Erin’s grandfathers, who owned Taylor Fine Jewels. Both companies had been based in Seattle, Washington, and together they’d been responsible for creating some of the most beautiful and valuable jewelry in the world. Million-dollar necklaces, bracelets and earrings worn by celebrities and royalty across the globe.

The Taylor-Bajoran partnership had lasted for decades, making both families extremely wealthy. And then one day about five years ago, Alexander had taken over Bajoran Designs from his father, and his first order of business had been to steal her family’s company right out from under them.

Without warning he’d bought up a majority of shares of Taylor Fine Jewels and forced Jessica’s and Erin’s fathers off the Board of Directors so he could absorb the company into his own and essentially corner the market on priceless jewels and their settings.

Thanks to Alexander’s treacherous move, the Taylor family had gone bankrupt and been driven out of Seattle almost overnight. They were far from destitute, but all the same, the Taylors were not used to living frugally. Jessica didn’t think her mother was used to her new, more middle-class lifestyle even now, and Erin’s mother had taken the reversal of fortune hardest of all.

Jessica was doing okay, though. Did she enjoy being a maid at a resort where she used to be a guest? Where she used to stay in a three-thousand-dollar-a-night suite and that her family could easily have purchased with a flick of the wrist?

Not always. But being a maid, working at a normal job like a normal person, gave her a freedom she’d never felt as a rich, well-known socialite. No way could she have gotten away with streaks in her hair and pierced everything when she’d been one of those Taylors. When she’d been attending luncheons at the country club with her mother and been the subject of regular snapshots by local and national paparazzi.

Money was good, but she thought anonymity might be a little bit better. For her, at least. For Erin, she knew the opposite was true.

“Why do I need to be invisible?” she asked finally. “It’s lucky enough he didn’t recognize me the first time. I should switch floors and maybe even shifts with one of the other girls before he does.”

“No!” Erin exploded again. “Don’t you see? This is our chance! Our chance to get back at that bastard for what he did to us.”

“What are you talking about?” Thoroughly confused, Jessica shook her head. “How could we possibly get back at him for that? He’s a millionaire. Billionaire. The CEO of a zillion-dollar company. We’re nobodies. No money, no power, no leverage.”

“That’s right, we’re nobodies. And he’s the CEO of a zillion-dollar company that used to be ours. Maybe it could be again.”

Before Jessica had the chance to respond, Erin rushed on. “He’s here on business, right? That means he has to have business information with him. Paperwork, contracts, documents we could use to possibly get Taylor Fine Jewels back.”

“Taylor Fine Jewels doesn’t exist anymore. It’s been absorbed into Bajoran Designs.”

“So?” Erin replied with a shrug of one delicate shoulder. “It can always be un-absorbed.”

Jessica didn’t know how that would work. She wasn’t sure it was even possible. But whether it was or it wasn’t, what Erin was suggesting was insanity.

“I can’t go poking around in his things. It’s wrong. And dangerous. And corporate espionage. And definitely against Mountain View policy. I could lose my job!”

Her cousin made a sound low in her throat. “It’s only corporate espionage if you’re employed by a rival company. Which you’re not, because Alexander Bajoran stole our company and put us all out on the street. And who cares if you lose that stupid job? Surely you can scrub toilets for the wealthy elite at some other high-priced hotel.”

Jessica leaned back, stunned by the venom in her cousin’s voice, as well as her obvious disdain for Jessica’s occupation. Yes, she scrubbed toilets and stripped beds and vacuumed carpets instead of folding scarves and dressing mannequins at an upscale boutique like Erin, but she kind of liked it. She got to spend most of her time alone, got along well with the rest of the housekeeping staff and didn’t have to claim her sometimes quite generous tips on her taxes.

And it kept her busy enough that she didn’t have time to dwell on the past or nurse a redwood-size grudge against an old enemy the way her cousin obviously did.

“Come on, Jess. Please,” Erin begged. “You have to do this. For the family. We may never get another opportunity to find out what Bajoran is up to, or if there’s some way—any way—to rebuild the business and our lives.”

She wanted to refuse. Should refuse. But the pain in Erin’s voice and in her eyes gave Jessica pause.

She could maybe poke around a little.

“What would I have to do?” she asked carefully. “What would I be looking for?”

“Just … see if you can find some paperwork. On the desk, in his briefcase if he leaves it. Interoffice memos, maybe, or documents outlining his next top secret, underhanded takeover.”

Against her better judgment, Jessica gave a reluctant nod. “All right, I’ll do it. But I’m not going to get caught. I’ll glance around. Keep my eyes open. But I’m not going to rummage through his belongings like a common thief.”

Erin’s nod was much more exuberant. “Fine, I understand. Just look around. Maybe linger over fluffing the pillows if he’s on the phone … listen in on his conversation.”

She wasn’t certain she could do that, either, but simply acting like she would seemed to make her cousin happy enough.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Erin. This has ‘Lucy and Ethel’ written all over it, and you know how their crazy schemes always turned out. I’m not going to jail for you, either. A Taylor with a criminal record would get even more press than one having to work a menial, nine-to-five job cleaning other people’s bathrooms.”

Two

This was insane.

She was a former socialite turned chambermaid, not some stealthy spy trained to ferret out classified information. She didn’t even know what she was looking for, let alone how to find it.

Her cart was in the hall, but she’d dragged nearly everything she needed to clean and restock the room in with her. Sheets, towels, toilet paper, the vacuum cleaner … If there were enough supplies spread out, she figured she would look busier and have more of an excuse for moving all over the suite in case anyone—specifically Alexander Bajoran—came in and caught her poking around.