Berman took a healthy draft of his scotch, finishing the glass. It was his first of the day, so he wasn’t concerned. He played his hand pretty much the same way with Whitney way back when, and now it was time for what he had said to sink into Pia’s brain.
He stood and walked to the den, only to quickly emerge, stirring a fresh drink. He looked at Pia, and within, his ardor was unrestrained. Berman knew he shouldn’t be talking to Pia at all. Mariel was right—Pia was very intelligent, very nosy, very persistent, and very dangerous. Berman knew he couldn’t trust Pia, but he couldn’t abide the idea of losing her, whether by firing her or by some more drastic arrangement that would scare her off completely. He wanted to have her, to possess her until he tired of her. He was a man used to succeeding in all areas of his life, and vain enough to think he could have what he wanted. And he wanted Pia with all his damaged soul. He thought he was making progress, but she hadn’t budged. She was still sitting on his couch, looking sexier than ever, despite the cast and the sling. He wanted to see her dance again and then have wild sex. His imagination led him off to that wonderful place.
On her part, Pia was pretty sure she had Berman figured out. He was rich and sophisticated, as if that made a difference, and he controlled a large and apparently thriving company that had some curious relationship with the Chinese, probably for capital in exchange for proprietary secrets. Nano had its share of secrets, and she knew China was sitting on an ungodly amount of foreign exchange. He obviously thought he was special and entitled, and could engage in these games with her as he probably had with many women. He had all but admitted there was something going on at Nano that she shouldn’t know about. No, he had admitted it, but there he was, smiling smugly, lounging in his chair as if he were the king of the world. And behind that facade was just another horny guy hoping to get lucky.
In her relatively short life, Pia had had experience with plenty of men like him. Men obsessed with their own power who wanted to possess her in some way, even when they knew they shouldn’t, either because they were in a position of trust and responsibility over her, or were her boss, as in this case, or, in the worst instance of all, related to her. Pia saw Berman as just another predator who wanted to misuse his power and have his way. Although she knew she was playing a dangerous game, she was intent to turn the tables to get what she wanted without succumbing to him.
41.
ZACH BERMAN’S HOUSE, BOULDER, COLORADO
SUNDAY, JULY 21, 2013, 10:22 P.M.
“How about a little more of the Pinot Grigio,” Pia said, extending her empty glass in Berman’s direction. They’d left the question of her future hanging. When Berman had disappeared into the den, Pia got rid of her glass of wine in the same manner she had with the scotch the last time she’d been to Berman’s house: under the furniture. She wanted to play the tipsy role and thought it would be more convincing.
“Absolutely,” Berman said, pleased with the request. Perhaps Pia was relenting. He got up with the bottle and filled her glass. As he finished topping it off, he smiled and Pia smiled back. After making it look as if she had taken a sizable drink of wine, Pia set her glass down on the cocktail napkin. She then hefted the camera and took off the lens cap. She stood up and pretended to have trouble with her balance.
Berman watched her antics with a slight smile but then his brows knit as she brought the single-lens reflex camera up to her face, peering through the viewfinder and aiming directly at him.
“Wait a second!” Berman said, reaching out with his hand and extending it toward the camera. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve been taking pictures all afternoon,” Pia explained with a giggle. “I wanted to take a few more. I want to take some of you.”
“Why?” Berman questioned. The fact of the matter was that he had a reflex aversion to being photographed. He’d been burned before by overzealous paparazzi. Cameras made him leery.
“You’re a handsome man,” Pia said.
“I don’t like cameras.”
“Oh, come on! Relax!” Pia lifted the camera back in position for her to see through the view finder. Berman’s hand stayed in the middle of her field of vision. She lowered the camera. “Hey, it’s digital. If you don’t like it, it can be erased.”
“Maybe later,” Berman said. “Maybe we can take some photos of each other.”
“Just a couple?”
“No! Sit down. Let’s talk about your settlement.”
Pia settled back into the couch, placing the camera next to her. The charade was going to have to be extended.
“Okay,” Berman said, visibly relaxing. “Here’s what I propose.” He went on to outline the terms of a settlement for Pia, and it was very generous indeed. As he kept talking, Pia became confused.
“Wait, are you offering me a job?”
“Yes, it’s a personal services contract, not with Nano but with me directly. Rather like the one Miss Jones signed when she started working for me. And she is, as you know, a very valued and well-compensated employee.”
“You mentioned confidentiality agreements.”
“Yes, of course. They’re an integral part of the negotiation. You need to sign a confidentiality agreement that covers the nature of this conversation.”
“You mean before we negotiate the details of the job.”
“Yes, it’s standard for top-level employees who work directly with me. And extremely watertight. I have one here for you to sign, as well as a contract.”
“You have one ready for me?” Pia had noticed that when Berman had emerged from the den with his refreshed drink, he had been carrying several sheets of paper.
“Not exactly. As I said, it’s standard. It’s what I had drawn up for Whitney.”
“Wait, you’re going much too fast. What would I be doing for you?”
“Well, that would remain to be arranged. With certain employees, I prefer to secure their services under contract and then find the niche that they fit into. I know you will be a valued member of my staff, because of your scientific expertise and your other . . . talents.”
“And what might those be?”
“I said that the lab might not be the best place for you to work, but I want to keep you around. I’d like to have you here and with me on some of my travels. You’re very intelligent and perceptive and persuasive, and frankly I’d much rather have you working for me than against me. You’d be a great asset. Also I am very attracted to you, Pia. I think that is rather obvious, especially after that regrettable episode on your doorstep.”
“So you want to get me under contract. How romantic.”
“Come on, Pia, you came here voluntarily after nine o’clock at night. What was your idea for this evening? What did you think we were going to talk about? Or do? We’re healthy adults.”
Berman was speaking softly, leaning forward so that he was very close to Pia, who was sitting catty-corner on the couch.
Throwing caution to the wind, Pia stood and went to sit on the arm of Berman’s chair and draped an arm over his shoulder. She put her mouth close to his ear and whispered.
“Just tell me you had nothing to do with my accident.”
Berman tilted his head up and said softly, “I swear.”
“You’re a liar,” Pia said abruptly, and gave Berman a sharp jab in the kidney with the arm she had had over his shoulder. She stood up and ran around the other side of the glass coffee table as Berman came after her.
“Come here you, little bitch,” he roared. He was smiling broadly, enjoying the chase.
“What are you going to do, beat me up?”
“You hit me . . .”
Pia skipped around the furniture until she stood near the lobby. She held up her arm.
“That’s nothing. Look at me. My arm is broken in two places, and I had broken ribs and had a head inju
ry. And I lost my spleen.”
“I had nothing to do with it,” Berman said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He was laughing and, at the same time, pleading almost.
Pia knew she’d judged him correctly. He was most likely a physical coward who probably enjoyed inflicting pain. Berman reminded her of her despised uncle.
“Do you enjoy thinking about women being hurt?’
“No, Pia, believe me. Maybe I like to play a game or two, but it’s always consensual and in good fun. Come on, Pia, you’re torturing me.”
“I know.”
“Is it the money? I can offer you more money.”
“Okay, offer me more money.”
“I’ll double the money.”
“So write it down.”
Berman scurried back to the desk and scratched on the contract with a pen. To Pia, he was weak, desperate, and pathetic. If he couldn’t control an issue, he wanted to buy his way to a solution. Pia’s confidence grew with her realization that she’d seized control of the situation.
“Let me see the number.”
Berman handed her the contract.
“That’s more like it. Now come here.”
He walked toward her, and she pushed him back down into the club chair.
“Where do you keep your toys?”
“My toys?”
“You know what I mean. A man like you in this big house.”
“In the bedroom. In the cupboard on the right next to the bed.”
“Stay here.”
Pia killed the lights in the living room and went up to Berman’s bedroom. She found the cupboard and, indeed, as she suspected, it was full of sex toys, masks, and a coil of nylon rope and a lot of things she didn’t recognize. She worked quickly before she lost her nerve. She found a blindfold and some handcuffs and took the rope, not exactly sure what she was going to do. Then she struggled out of her jeans and shirt, leaving on her panties and bra. She gathered up the sex paraphernalia along with her clothes and returned downstairs.
Berman’s eyes opened wide when he saw her near nakedness and the booty from the cupboard in her free arm. “Don’t you move!” Pia ordered as she dumped everything onto the couch except the rope.
“I haven’t. What are you going to do to me?” Berman was good at role playing. He was transfixed by her activity and body, watching her every move.
“You’ll see,” she said. She stepped behind him, told him to lean forward, and to put his hands behind his back. He complied, trying to catch sight of her over his shoulder. With some difficulty with her cast, Pia managed to tie his hands, but not too well. She wanted him to be able to free himself but only after some effort. She then returned to face him and pushed him back into the chair. “I said you’ll see. But I was lying.” Pia slipped the blindfold over Berman’s head. She then popped all the snaps on the front of Berman’s shirt, exposing his chest and his admirably flat abdomen. “Is this what you like?” She ran her hand down the contours in front of him stopping at his belt. She gave his belt a tug.
Berman groaned and shifted in his seat.
“What I’m trying to do here,” Pia explained, “is give you a good premonition of what it is going to be like when I fully recover. I told you I have broken bones, so unfortunately we’ll have to wait for the real thing, won’t we.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t want to wait!”
Pia got the camera and, standing directly in front of Berman, made sure it was in focus. She then reached out, pulled off the blindfold, and snapped a rapid series of photos of his face with his eyes thrown completely open in surprise.
“What the hell!” he shouted.
“Perfect,” Pia said. “These will go well with my wildflowers.”
“I told you I don’t like having my picture taken,” he said.
“You said you didn’t like cameras,” Pia corrected him. Quickly she replaced the blindfold before Berman knew what was happening. He shook his head violently in an attempt to get rid of it.
“Hey. Take this thing off!”
“Sorry,” Pia said. She took another picture of Berman with the blindfold in place, and then quickly retrieved her clothes and the camera lens cover.
“What are you doing now?” Berman demanded as he struggled to free his hands.
“You have to wait for next time. I want to be fully healthy. And in case you are interested, I wanted to have a few photos in my possession just so you don’t hold all the cards, Mr. Berman. I assure you that they are for my use only.”
Berman struggled to his feet and then buried his head in the chair in an attempt to dislodge the blindfold.
Pia grabbed the contract from the table and ran to the front door, carrying her clothes. She didn’t want to be there when Berman got himself free. Nor did she bother to put on her clothes when she got down to her car, not wanting to take the time. She didn’t know if Berman could remotely keep the gate closed at the base of his driveway, but she assumed so and didn’t want to take the chance of being caught on his grounds. When the gate opened as she approached it, she felt a great sense of relief. As she drove away on the county road, she suspected there would be some consequences to what she’d done, but at least she had the photos.
42.
PIA’S APARTMENT, BOULDER, COLORADO
MONDAY, JULY 22, 2013, 1:04 A.M.
The first thing Pia did when she got home was take a quick shower to get Berman’s scent off of her. Then she uploaded the pictures from the camera onto her computer and found that the shot of Berman could not have been any better. With the shock of the blindfold coming off and the flash of the camera, his eyes were fully open. Pia could see white sclera all 360 degrees around the iris. And the focus was so sharp it practically looked three dimensional. It was a better picture than the one of her own eyes, and that had worked well.
As she had done with her own photo, Pia enlarged the eyes to life size, then transferred the image to her iPhone. She worked fast, maintaining the intensity that had a hold on her since she ran out of Berman’s house. She’d never bothered to dress even when she pulled up to her apartment in her complex. No one was around at the time, as it was almost midnight, and she just ran in, carrying the camera and her clothes.
She hadn’t stopped moving since. Now she prepared to go to Nano immediately. She found her lab coat where it had been hanging for over six weeks and her ID, then tied her hair back in a ponytail before returning to her car. On the way to Nano, she ran down a checklist in her head. She knew she needed a lot of luck if it all was to work, and the closer she got, the more nervous she became. The confidence she’d felt back at her apartment melted away. The only thing in her favor was her familiarity with the graveyard-shift security staff from having interacted with them so often, probably more than anyone else on the scientific staff, coming in as often as she did on off hours. She was betting on the fact that they hadn’t seen her in over a month wouldn’t arouse any suspicions. In the past there had often been equivalent intervals. Still, the closer she got the more nervous she became. There were lots of reasons why what she was about to attempt might not work.
By the time Pia pulled up to the gate, she was shaking. She bit her lip as she handed over her ID to the guard. To Pia’s delight, the man merely glanced at it before handing it back. He touched the peak of his hat in a kind of salute before saying “Evening, madam” and raising the gate.
Getting through the gate as easy as she did buoyed Pia’s spirits, even though what was ahead was going to be more of a test. At the same time she was reasonably certain she would recognize at least one of the security people, and he would recognize her. She had frequently chatted with the guards when she was leaving and they often teased her about being so committed. She hoped that familiarity would mean they wouldn’t watch her too closely.
Pia parked
and walked as confidently as she could to the entrance. Two guards were on duty. One, Russ, she recognized, but the other was a much younger man she didn’t know. She guessed he was new.
“Hello, Dr. Grazdani, long time no see,” said Russ. “Sorry to hear about your accident.”
“Yes, hi, Russ. I’m back.” Pia groaned inwardly.
Russ had been on duty when Pia had gained entry using the picture of her own eyes. Pia looked over at the reception desk, and was relieved to see that no one was sitting by the computer. Pia worried that a guard stationed there might see that the system was admitting Zachary Berman, CEO, and not this woman no one had seen for more than a month. But if she couldn’t get in, it didn’t matter who was sitting where. Pia switched her attention to Russ, but he was back talking to his youthful colleague and paying her no mind.
Pia whipped out the cell phone and without looking back placed the image of Berman’s eyes in front of her own. There was a reassuring beep. A green light flashed. It worked the first time. Pia swung open the glass door and was about to march through.
“Dr. Grazdani.”
It was Russ.
“Yes,” said Pia, knowing there was nowhere to run to.
“Welcome back.”
“Thank you, Russ,” said Pia. “It’s nice to be back.”