“Ms. Schlossberg, you said you have the data for me.”
“I do.”
I finish spreading out the various reports with my written findings at the end. He reaches for that first and skims it beforesweeping his gaze over each pile. He pulls out a chair for me before pulling out his own. The others went around to the far side of the table. He waits until the women sit before sliding into his. Daniel, the VP of Development, was nearly sitting when Jorge lowered himself into the chair.
He nods as Brunhilde asks him a couple questions, but his attention’s focused on the paperwork he reviews. I watch him circle and underline various things. He turns to me a few times to ask insightful questions. He makes notes in Spanish along the margins with the pen he withdrew from his suit coat. He summarizes each report on the back of the first page.
Thorough.
Like German auto designer thorough.
When he sits back, he nods to the three executives across from us before he turns his chair to face me. He’s definitely not as warm to me as he was when we were alone yesterday and today. I wouldn’t have described it that way until I watched how remote he became. I don’t get it. It’s not like he was flirting with me, then got serious with others around. He’s just shut off now. It makes little sense to me. He still has a commanding presence. I don’t think that’ll ever go away, but he’s more an observer now.
“Ms. Schlossberg, we still have a problem.”
Chapter Two
Jorge
My problem is the hard-on that’s about to tent my trousers if I don’t get it under control. How Anne didn’t notice it yesterday is beyond me. If she did, she certainly never let on.
Anne.
She doesn’t look like an Anne to me. I’m not entirely sure what an Anne would look like, but that just doesn’t work for me.
Not that she’ll let you call her by her first name after the way you fucked her over.
Fucked her.
Fucking-a.
Now that thought’s definitely distracting me.
“Mr. Diaz, what problem could you have with Ms. Schlossberg’s work?”
The woman across the table looks like she wants to throttle me.FrauOgre—Mrs. Ogre doesn’t have the same ring—over there practically crushed my hand. I didn’t expect her to be a world champion arm wrestler. She must be with that grip.
Even though it’s Brunhilde Spindler who spoke, I keep my attention on Anne.
Definitely not Anne.
Anneliese is better. It’s what’s on her email signature. It’s a beautiful name that fits her.
“It’s not Ms. Schlossberg’s work. It’s impeccable and impressive for so little time. The problem is Kutsenko Partners heard about our plan and sold Heidemann BioTech when the Japanese markets opened this morning. Since I’m certain the leak didn’t come from my family, there’s only one place it could have.”
I observe her for any reaction to that news.
Guilt?
Regret?
Superiority?
Surprise?
Nothing but distrust.
I would’ve preferred any of the other emotions. It bothers me that she doesn’t trust me. Not that she should. But I’ve been forthright with her from the start. I haven’t lied—though I could’ve plenty of times. I may only be trustworthy with my family, but I’ve done nothing to earn her distrust.
