A Waltz With Wolves (Book II in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Forty-Five: All's Fair In Love and War

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It's a simple question I have to ask, which should prompt a simple answer.

As I hold the camera between the empty space between myself and the three of them across from me, I know I have to ask this simple question—Did you put this camera in my office? And after this question, Sebastian should answer with a yes or a no. But this doesn't happen immediately. I continue to hold the small, cracked camera between us and wait. I don't know what I'm waiting for—myself, or for them, who knows.

I look into Sebastian's eyes and pray I find someone else in them. Someone who wouldn't do this to me, jeopardizing my career and my privacy with this small model of surveillance. I want to believe he didn't—he wouldn't.

"I found this camera in my office last week," I tell them, "hidden in one of my figurines. I called Skippy and asked if he could somehow find out any information about this camera. Turns out, this camera was bought under a fake house account that came from Harrison Incorporated."

Scream, Sebastian. Yell, deny, laugh, scoff. Do or say something to give me the benefit of the doubt. I want him to do or say something, but he does and says nothing. Claude, always collected and calm, looks guilty—an emotion he seldom wears. But Penny. Oh, Penny. She looks the most regretful of all. She has failed me or Sebastian, whoever she believes is in the right.

"Leslie," Sebastian finally says, stepping slowly towards me like I'm a ticking time bomb. "Let me explain—"

"Did you or did you not put this camera in my office?"

Sebastian hates when I'm upset at him. I hate being upset at him, too, but what hurts me more is that there's justification for my anger. A reason. Unjustified anger is better—empty, without warrant. But this time, he did something. He isn't sinless.

The moment Sebastian nods in response to my question, I feel like I don't know him. That beautiful face, the humor and sensitivity and vulnerability to him; the trustworthiness. It's all erased to me as I hold his apologetic gaze. I'm staring at a stranger. I'm staring at strangers.

The camera disappears into my hand, swallowed by my palm as if to erase its existence. The room remains quiet, which angers me because none of them have anything to say. But to my surprise, Darcy steps forward and speaks before I can, only she speaks to Claude, the hurt in her eyes mirroring my own.

"So that's what this was?" she asks him. Her voice is delicate and broken; personally affected.

"Darcy," Claude says, "I—"

"Is that why you got close to me? So, you could put the camera in her office? Spy on her?"

I didn't know this. None of us did, actually; Sebastian furrows his brows and turns to Claude, awaiting an explanation for Darcy's testament, but Claude can't give one. By the dampness of Darcy's cheeks, it's safe to assume that she and Claude were close the last several months—closer than any of us knew. But this camera changes everything. Did he befriend her—seduce her—for his own agenda?

Claude walks towards Darcy and I, trying to explain himself (more than Sebastian can say for himself), but I stand between him and my assistant like he means harm. It's only right to assume his intentions are rotten.

"You," my finger is in his face, "Get away from her. All of you just get away."

"Leslie—"

"Don't you dare, Sebastian!" I've never yelled at him like this. Never. My voice is trembling from this betrayal; I don't know what to feel.

As they all step away, I gather my words. Darcy sits on in a chair by a bookshelf, crying silently to herself. How could I have not known any of this? She hid her "relationship" with Claude from me for this long?