Bait & Hook

28. Preparing the Hook

I looked at the companies on the list – Deloitte, KPMG, Price-Waterhouse, Ernst & Young, Grant Thornton, Collins Barrow. Good God! He has plants in all of these. And they're all CMG whatevers. Top of the field. We're not dealing with small-potato fraudsters here.

These are the biggies, the top of the heap. What's the Mafia name for this? The boss and his capos and alphas? No, alphas are in the werewolf trope – unless it's a hybrid genre. God, I need something besides copycat clichéed stories to read. Learn how to search – or start buying books again.

Books, yeah. Real ones again. Maybe they'll approve the raise with this, and I can stop scrimping. Or I manage to land another clinical position. Whatever, how do I proceed from here?

Shoot a photo of the page and email it to Frank. Yeah, he'll know the best way to handle this.

I stood from the settee and waved the page at Xander. "Need to tuck this away in my pack, so it doesn't get lost. Visit the head while I'm down there."

God, I hate deceit. But it's necessary to catch him and his gang at their game.

Below and forward, I laid the page on the vanity counter and took a shot with my phone. Nope, too much glare. I adjusted the gooseneck lights and shot another, and satisfied, I shared it to my email.

Then sitting on the toilet cover, I composed a quick note:

      Hi, Frank:
      Here's a list of Alexander Dunstrom's colleagues.
      I hope his referral note is sufficient to implicate.
      I'm safe and back in Vancouver in about 2 hours.
      Rosario

After I sent it, I flushed the toilet in case it can be heard from the cockpit. God, I hate deceit. Necessary for this, though.

I switched off my phone and carefully folded the note, hoping not to smudge his fingerprints. Then with it and the phone in the backpack, I blew a deep breath. What now?

Melissa's and Frank's words echoed in my head. Stick to the guidelines. Don't let him sway you from them. Don't get sucked in by his charm. Charm is their main weapon.

What if he suspects?

Plotlines from Wattpad Mafia stories filled my mind. Held captive. Made his sex slave. The writing falls to pieces. Search for another story. Repeat. Yeah, over and over.

But to here? Should I ask to see more photos of his voyage? Ummm, keep the conversation on that, rather than risk spilling anything about me.

I rejoined Xander in the cockpit and settled beside him, nestled into the settee's deep cushions. With the wind from the southwest, we had an exciting broad reach past Bowen Island and through English Bay, all the while held captive with his photos and descriptions of Tierra del Fuego, Cape Horn and the Falklands.

As we furled the sails off Kits Point, reality again struck. I've fallen for him. Completely. More than I had ever imagined possible. But I can't. Against every principle Papá instilled in me.

But at least now, I understand the bonding process. And if it's as fast and easy as this has been, then surely ...

I was pulled from my thoughts by Xander's voice, "You appear to be deep in thought, Roxy."

"Ummm, yeah. Thinking about relationships and their evolution." Oh, God! Why am I so honest?

He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand, sending shivers down my body as he asked, "And what do you see?"

"It's a complex process."

"Indeed, and one not to be taken lightly."

"For sure." Particularly with a mobster. What? No way do I want that.

But my body says I do. I sighed. Yeah, it does.

Shut up, body. I directed the conversation to sailing, keeping it there as we motored under the bridges and up False Creek to the marina. As we secured Tastevin in her slip, I winced to myself and said, "I need to go home and change. Pack a bag. Should I meet you back here? Or at your townhouse?"

"Easier directly there. I'll show it to you when we go ashore."

"Great!" And I get his address to add to the ID.