Men are such idiots. A few comic-book-evil notes about a mysterious villain going after Prince Labs and suddenly the heir to the empire wants to keep his matching a secret. Well, maybe not suddenly - he’s been keeping it from his father for years so there was probably something fishy going on - but he certainly got stricter about it. And apparently screwed up something. Honestly, it was a matching. How could he possibly have messed that up?
And as usual I was the one to clean up the damage. He was going to be lost when I was gone, and I didn’t even care. I was his secretary, not his nanny.
“Nathan, hi,” I simpered as I peeked into the club’s back office. “I’m Jocelyn - we spoke on the phone earlier?” Why on earth was it so dark and gloomy back here? Did he forget to pay an electric bill or something?
“And I still have nothing for you, so you can tell Tyr Prince-”
“Actually, I’m here for Reginald Prince. You know: Tyr’s father and the founder of Prince Enterprises, Prince Labs, Prince Matching - and, of course, Matching Balls.” I entered the room fully and closed the door behind me. I didn’t want anyone wandering in on this conversation.
Nathan grunted, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his chin. The brute hadn’t even bothered to shave yet. “Still can’t help you, lady.”
What an animal. “Well then maybe I’ll just call the cops.”
“I’m not doing anything illegal,” he said with a glare. “The security footage is private, and we can’t share it with just anyone - not without a warrant.”
“Look, I get it. This is a strange request. But this is a strange situation and Mr. Prince just wants answers,” I tried. I started digging in my purse just to give my hands something to do. I needed something in my hands. “Really. There was a brief altercation and we’re worried over the well being of a potential guest or staff member. I promise, if you find something illegal in the review you can call the cops and report it.” Let him think he had options. I’d get my way in the end.
“I oughtta report you,” he muttered. His body language was tough and stiff, but coming in person had definitely softened the hard edges he’d given me on the phone.
“I’m just a concerned citizen,” I said with a smile, pulling out my phone. “Perhaps we should get them involved. What if the poor boy was kidnapped - or drugged on your very floor?”
“I won’t hand over the video,” Nathan said, but I could see the gears in his head turning. He didn’t want that kind of rumor spreading right after a Ball, and he didn’t want to lose the potential to host another in the future. I waited, not pushing, letting the silence hang while he weighed the risk of rumor against sharing the video. Then he gave just a little: “I can have my security team review it. In-house audits are expected.”
I smiled. “That will do. For now. Look for an incident around 10 or 11 PM regarding Tyr Prince.” I didn’t have any more details than that, so hopefully it would be enough.
“A match?”
Oh, he was good. “Now, now. You know I can’t reveal that. Private information. Besides, all the tabloids know Tyr Prince doesn’t have words.” Or so he said.
“Yeah, right,” Nathan snorted, picking up his phone and dialing. Looks like he believed that rumor as well as I did. “And the moon turns purple every third Wednesday.”
“What an interesting observation,” I smiled. Hopefully my foundation covered the strain it was taking to keep that expression in place. “I’d like to see that.”
Nathan rolled his eyes, and then the person he’d called must have picked up. “Eddie? Hey, yeah, can you review the footage from last night’s ball? You’re looking for something strange before midnight. You’ll know it when you see it. Thanks.”
“Think you could have been any more vague?” Okay, so my sarcasm voice was coming out a bit. The whole situation was rotten.
“Specific questions gets you specific answers,” Nathan said. “If I don’t tell him what to look for then he might skip right over whatever your digging for and find something more important. And he probably will - because nothing happened with Mr. Prince.”
“When can I expect answers?” I asked, determined to do my job even if it was silly.
“When Eddie finishes going over the tapes,” Nathan said. “There’s about six or seven cameras inside, and about five hours to go through. I wouldn’t expect anything before tomorrow.”
“If that’s the best you can do,” I sighed.
“And it won’t go to you. It will go to whomever was in the footage, or to the police if we spot a crime. There are laws, Miss Romero. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll let Tyr know to expect to hear from you. And if he doesn’t - I will know.”
Nathan grunted. “You know, this is going pretty far just for some random person he thought might be sick,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Makes a guy wonder what you all might be hiding in that ivory tower of yours.”
I smiled and thought my face my break. “All we hide is the algorithms for matching - Prince Enterprises is very transparent.”
“Bet this man you’re searching for is Tyr’s match. And I’d bet that’s worth good money to someone.”
My smile slipped. “And I’d bet that’s why Tyr Prince doesn’t have words. Get the answer to him by tomorrow - or I might suggest this place is due for a health inspection, and report a suspected assault. Maybe throw some petty theft in? Or should I go for the real kicker: Match Interference?”
“Your point is made. Get out.” Nathan huffed a breath, and his face was a splotchy red that looked far from healthy. I hot-footed it away and started texting Reginald to let him know things were moving.
And to think he’d wanted to ask nicely.
Nathan was right, though. This was probably Tyr’s match. Tyr never showed this much interest in people, particularly strangers. Whoever this was, he was special.
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