Bonbons and Betrayal: Book 3 in The Chocolate Cafe Series by Valley Sams Read Free Book Online Page B

understatement worked perfectly. Mehyar’s dark eyes flashed and he leaned forward in his chair.
     
    “When we were roommates we were working on our MA graduate projects at the same time. Actually, more correctly…I was working on my MA graduate project. The only thing Creed was working on was stealing my concept and making it his own.”
     
     
    ******
     
    The only time Mac felt even a little guilty was when she stepped past Louis’ shoes to make her way toward the stairs. He was a lovely man on every important level and if she was a good person even remotely deserving of him, she should’ve stayed in the car.
     
    But she didn’t. Of course she didn’t.
     
    She could hear their voices in the other room as she made her way up the sweeping staircase.
     
    “You’re saying Creed stole your idea?” Louis’ voice, unmistakably soft and soothing was muffled, but still audible. She paused halfway up to hear the answer.
     
    “Absolutely. I had no idea he had done so until the day the assignments were due. As a result, I had to ask for an extension and completely redo months worth of work in only a few weeks. He was an appalling man and it is still appalling that he got away with it.”
     
    “Surely you confronted him about it.”
     
    “I did more than confront him. I gave him a black eye and went to the head of the department about it. Of course she was sleeping with him, so in essence she was fully anesthetized.”
     
    “Did he receive any punishment?”
     
    “Would you consider a tenured professorship a punishment?”
     
    As the interview heated up, Mac took her opportunity to continue up the stairs. The walls were lined with bland family portraits of the man with his two little boys and wisp of a wife. There were one or two of an older couple that Mac concluded were his parents, looking out proudly from a frame that probably cost more than their home.
     
    He wasn’t smiling in a single one of them, which wasn’t surprising when Mac took his foul tone into account.
     
    Now at the landing, Mac made her way down the hallway to what appeared to be an office at the end. She probably had less than ten minutes and couldn’t be bothered with opening any of the many shut doors that lined her path. Besides, she had done this enough lately that she knew one squeaking hinge could be enough to give her away.
     
    Her heart wasn’t even beating rapidly any more. Apparently her tolerance for falsehood and subversive activity was increasing. It might be time for a detox.
     
    She slipped into the office, listening constantly to the drone of the men’s voices below.
     
    Like the rest of the house, there was something overly scrubbed and impersonal about the man’s office as well. His large desk was the focal point of the room. It was covered in computer equipment with a large monitor in the center. Mac stopped herself from clicking the mouse that softly pulsed with light on the mahogany. What if there was some kind of alarm hooked up to it? She couldn’t take the risk. In addition, her computer skills weren’t exactly stellar. She’d have more luck getting information the old fashioned way – rifling through drawers.
     
    She opened the first drawer and found only a collection of expensive pens, change and a few misdirected staples.
     
    The second drawer was deep enough to function as a filing cabinet. Mac was disappointed to find nothing but credit card statements, gas receipts and medical information.
     
    Downstairs, the conversation continued. Mac couldn’t help but half listen as their voices drifted up through the overly filigreed heating vent beneath the desk.
     
    “Deena Shelat was the head of the department at the time, was she not?” Louis’ voice as lighthearted and charming as usual.
     
    “And Creed was the head of her, to be blunt. You see, the man was a sub-par student and a sub-par teacher. There was no way he would’ve attained any of his degrees without stealing ideas from greater