He gives a swift shake of his head. “If they know, then they haven’t said a word. Neither have I.”
“Appreciate it,” I say, holding his eyes.
“I don’t know how you fucking did it. There’s no way I could have spent three weeks watching the woman…” He glances at the guys waiting to be interviewed, then leads me farther down the hallway, away from them. “I couldn’t have spent three weeks watching her the way you did. I’d have gone crazy and needed to speak to her.”
“She needed space. And time,” I say. And the fact is, I’ve spent years keeping an eye on Sinclair from afar while working for her family. It was my job.
And these last few weeks, it’s become my salvation.
Watching her. Seeing the way she’s been without me. Knowing for a fact she hasn’t seen that fucker Brad Garrett-Charles once since the night of the party. My girl has been walking around, heartbreak as clear as day in every move she’s made.
She loves me.
She just chose wrong. And I understand why she did it.
“You come to get shit out in the open, then? Got to say, I don’t envy you for having to go in there with all three of them.”
I press my lips together, refusing to let apprehension slip in.
“I was always going to have to tell him. If it wasn’t me, then there would have been a day she met some other guy and I’d have had to tell him why I needed to leave.”
“Good luck. I’ll come to your funeral,” Killian says.
I walk to Sterling’s office door and three pairs of eyes bounce to me again as I knock heavily on it.
It opens and Mal’s brows shoot up his forehead as he takes me in. His eyes drop over my suit and tie.
“Here for the interview?” he asks.
“Sure am.”
He grins.
“Position’s been filled!” he barks at the three guys waiting on chairs. “Killian will show you out.” He inclines his head, calling over his shoulder into Sterling’s office. “Thanks for coming, but you didn’t get it.”
A big guy steps out as Mal stands to one side to let him pass. He looks me up and down with an unimpressed grunt, muttering something about how I must be fucking superman to be picked.
Mal holds out an arm, inviting me in. “About time. Whatever shit you’ve been up to, couldn’t you have done it faster? I’ve done so many interviews my brain’s ready to pack the hell up if I have to ask one more fucking question.” He snorts out an amused chuckle as I step into the room, and he closes the door behind us with an ominous thud.
Two pairs of blue eyes immediately pin onto me like laser targets.
“Tomorrow’s phone call’s canceled then?” Sullivan clips.
“Yeah, it’s canceled,” I say, glancing at him.
“About fucking time,” he mutters, leaning back in his seat, his ankle resting over the top of his other leg.
Sterling runs a hand over his jaw, studying me from his seat behind his large wooden desk. I don’t take a seat. I don’t step further into the room as Mal walks over and throws himself into a chair with a sigh. I don’t move an inch.
I wait.
“How was your flight back?” Sterling asks finally, his eyes narrowed and calculating. “Admire any sights while you were there? Bet there’s a lot to look at. A man can probably spend hours sitting around… watching.”
I consider my answer as he holds my gaze without an ounce of discomfort.
He knows. I suspected as much. I’ve worked side by side with him for years. He knows me as well as anyone can. And the man misses nothing.
Sullivan and Mal remain silent, but both of their eyes track between Sterling and I, no doubt sensing there’s a hidden undercurrent to his words.
