Allison tried to remain composed as the priest continued to chat, but inside she was stoking a slow burn. Finally, Father Basher let go of her hand and turned to greet other well-wishers.
Liam saw the change in Allison’s demeanor the minute the priest mentioned Brett, and he remembered what she had told him about her former roommate. When she turned around, there was fire in her eyes. She scanned the room and finally zeroed in on a small group standing by the door. In the center, holding court, was a young man in his mid-twenties with styled blond hair the color of sunburned wheat. One hand was holding a drink and the other was slipped casually into the pocket of his blazer. His smile said he was relishing the attention he was getting from his audience.
“Brett Keaton?” he asked.
Allison nodded.
Liam glanced over at him once again, and when he turned back, Allison was gone. She was already weaving through the crowd, heading for Brett. Anticipating a showdown, Liam rushed to catch up with her.
Brett had turned his back to the room and was just about to greet a friend who wanted to congratulate him when Allison tapped on his shoulder. Brett swung around, his palm still outstretched to shake a hand, but the second he saw Allison, his smile disappeared.
“I hear you’re trying to sell my work,” Allison said.
Liam stood a few feet behind her. He knew she must be seething inside, yet her voice was very calm. He was impressed.
“Hi, Allison,” Brett said, his phony smile back in place as he tried to hide the fact that he had been taken off guard. “How are you?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she answered in as pleasant a tone as she could muster. “I’ve just heard about the program you’ve designed, and it sounds very much like mine.”
Brett immediately glanced around at his small group of admirers before striking a pose that made him look both bewildered and offended at the same time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Allison. I’ve been working on this for months.”
“Funny,” Allison said, “I don’t remember ever seeing you work on a security program—or even hearing you mention one, for that matter—when I was helping you with your classwork. I, on the other hand, have spent countless hours perfecting my program. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
Liam watched as Brett’s body language changed. His hands were now fisted at his sides and his legs were braced apart for a fight. What did he suppose Allison was going to do? Karate-chop him? Liam’s instincts told him to step forward and protect her, but Allison was so calm and seemingly unfazed by the threat that he held back.
“You can’t prove anything,” Brett snarled. “You may think you’re the only one who knows anything about computers or software, but you’re wrong. I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into this program, and it’s finally going to pay off. You’ll be wanting to congratulate me pretty soon, unless your pride gets in your way. I’ll be in negotiations soon to sell my program,” he said, stressing the word my, “to several different companies bidding for it. They’re coming here for my presentation.”
She patted his arm and sounded very sincere when she said, “Well, then, I wish you good luck and hope you get exactly what you deserve.”
As she walked away she heard his final smug remark. “I will.”
“You think he stole your program and is passing it off as his own?” Liam asked her when they were alone again.
“Absolutely,” she responded. “I know what Brett can do, and it would have been impossible for him to have written a program in the time he’s been gone. He saw me working on mine.”
“You’re a better person than I am. If someone stole my work, I’d want to coldcock him. You don’t seem too bent out of shape over it.”
She laughed. “I’m not.”
“How come?”
“I always build a safeguard into my design.”
“Yeah?”
“If Brett has my work, he won’t be able to sell it.”
“You’re certain?”
“Oh yes.”
He didn’t know what was going on behind her mysterious smile, but he could tell she was no longer upset. In fact, she seemed almost amused.
FIFTEEN
Allison and Liam left the reception early and headed for the Four Seasons. The temperature had dropped considerably, but fortunately Liam’s car was parked in the circle drive. She grabbed her coat from the backseat and put it on while Liam reached into the glove compartment to get the envelope. They were soon on their way with the heater blasting.
Allison suddenly realized how comfortable she was with him now. When she had opened the door for him tonight, her nerves went crazy and her hands actually shook. Her mind raced with questions. Was he going to say anything about last night? Or was he going to pretend having hot, sweaty, mind-blowing sex with her hadn’t happened? Maybe it hadn’t been like that for him. She decided to let all of that go and just enjoy the moment.
Liam was quiet as they pulled into traffic. He was picturing the look in Keaton’s eyes. Finally he said what was on his mind. “You know what? Keaton’s a piece of . . .” He stopped before he said the crude word he was thinking of.
“A piece of work?” she suggested.
He laughed. “Sure. That’s what I was going to say.”
It took all of five minutes to reach the Four Seasons Hotel. The lobby wasn’t as grand in scale as the Hamilton’s, but it was just as elegant with its gleaming black marble floors divided into huge squares by creamy marble bands. The furnishings, small groupings of upholstered chairs at the perimeter, were understated, yet they fit perfectly into the refined atmosphere of the hotel.
Since they were early, Allison and Liam went into the bar to wait. The wood-paneled room was softly lit, and candles in tall glass cylinders on each table added to the warm ambience. Most of the tables were occupied. Liam led her to one at the back of the room and pulled out the plush leather club chair for her before he took his seat. Within seconds a waiter appeared. Allison ordered a Diet Coke, and when Liam asked for a club soda with lime, she was surprised. She had a beer on a rare occasion, but nothing else because she’d seen over and over again how it impaired judgment. She wouldn’t have known what to order anyway. The last time she had gone to dinner with Charlotte and Oliver, the waiter handed her a wine menu, and after staring at it for five minutes or so, she told Charlotte it might as well have been written in gibberish. She didn’t know what wine went with what food, and she didn’t really care. Liam, however, was a man of the world. He obviously had no objection to worldly pleasures. She finally concluded that he wasn’t drinking alcohol because he was on duty . . . or was he?
Liam opened the envelope and pulled out two sheets of paper. “I had thought to send this contract to your laptop but changed my mind because, as you’ll see, I’ve written notes all over it. It’s still readable.”
He handed the first sheet of paper to Allison and sat back while she read through it.
“What it boils down to—,” he began.
“He’d like to own me for six months, and he has the option to add another month or two or three, should he feel I’m needed.”
“That’s about right.”
“I’m not signing this.”
She’d sounded so outraged he couldn’t help smiling. “I’m not suggesting that you do. Let’s go through it line by line and change what you want changed. I’ll have the new one typed up tomorrow and you can sign it.”
“Do I need a lawyer?” she asked, and before he could answer her question, she said, “I probably need a lawyer.”
“I’m a lawyer. I’ll look out for you.”
“You’re a lawyer?” She sounded suspicious.
“Yes.”
He didn’t give her any more information. Frowning, she said, “Okay, you’re a lawyer. But you work for him.”
“Him?”
“Phillips.”
“No, I don’t work for him. Alec and I brought you in, and we won’t let him take advantage of you. Do you trust me?”