Phoenix
After the shocker Michaela dropped into my lap, I needed to make an
urgent call. After a quick shower, breakfast, and coffee, we’re both
seated side-by-side on the sofa, our eyes glued to my i Phone placed on
the coffee table as it rings. “Phoenix,” Bryce says when he picks up. “I
hope I’m not calling too early?” “Not at all,” he says. “Are you calling
to reschedule our dinner plans?” I wouldn’t call Bryce Van Der Linden
a close friend. He’s more of a secret weapon. He used to live in
California. He now lives in the Big Apple. It just so happens we’re both
in Paris at the same time. We were set to meet later this week for dinner
with Michaela, but this can’t wait. Bryce runs one of the most important
internet security companies in the world. We’ve been using his services
for years. On the tail of a fairly highprofile case surrounding his wife,
he branched out, and now he also specializes in all sorts of white-collar
crimes. He and his team of experts can track anyone, anywhere. He
saves us several millions of dollars every single year with his
cyber-intelligence. “No, we’re still on.” “Good. I’m looking forward to
meeting Mrs. König.” “Speaking of which, you’re on speaker phone.
Michaela is here with me.” “Ah, the new bride,” Bryce says. “It’s a
pleasure to meet you, Mrs. König.” “So formal.” She laughs. “It’s a
pleasure to meet you too, Bryce.” “I can’t wait to meet you in person,
Michaela.”
“Same here. Phoenix speaks highly of you.” I wink at her. She smiles.
“I’m honored,” he says. “Congratulations, Michaela, on snatching a
certified bachelor.” “Takes one to know one,” I say. “I’m not even
going to argue with you. No complaints on my part. I love my wife,” he
says. “So, how can I help you?” “I may have a situation on my hands,” I
say. “In fact, I’m certain of it.” “Words I love to hear,” he says. “I’m all
ears.” “Do you remember Brock Litoris?” “Yes, the assistant who was
feeding company information to your biggest rival and sabotaging your
credibility,” Bryce says. “The one and only,” I say, sarcasm weighing
heavy. “Is he back in the picture?” “He’ll always be in the picture given
who he works for––” “I hate that we were never able to nab him or
Ripley,” Bryce says. “The sneaky rats were miles ahead of us.” Years
go by, but the sting doesn’t lessen. Nor does the crushing humiliation of
being blindsided. I despise Brock Litoris. And I darn right hate Ripley.
I’m sure Brock told Ripley we contracted Bryce’s services. This gave
them a leg up. Few con artists outsmart Bryce and his team. The Three
Stooges––Brock, Ripley, and Marie-Clémence––knew from the get-go
to never share any incriminating information on our networks. “So,
what did Brock do now?” Bryce signs a DNA with all his clients, so I
have the peace of mind of knowing this conversation isn’t going
anywhere. I tell him about bumping into Brock and MC last night. I turn
it to Michaela and she recounts what she told me this morning. I tie it all
together by telling Bryce about recently purchasing the Villiers Grand
Hotel. I leave out details about our fake marriage. “It seems Brock has
moved on,” Bryce says when I’m finished. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Why do you say that?” “We have a leak within our organization.
Again.”
Bryce grumbles. “Well, this time it’s not Brock, which means there’s
another weasel playing you.” “I can’t shake the nagging feeling Ripley
has his tentacles in one of our board members.” “That’s a bold
accusation,” Bryce says. “Board members are supposed to be on your
side.” “You would think,” I say. I tell him all about Potter and what my
father shared. “You’re right, he knows too much,” Bryce says. “Way
too much.”