A knock at the door sliced through the moment like a warning bell.
Oliver Pearsall entered.He was compact and fit, in his late forties, with good posture and quick eyes.He took in the entire room before choosing where to sit.Kayne approved.
He shook Chloe’s hand.“Ms.Giordano.”
“Chloe,” she corrected, smiling warmly.“Please, sit.”
Oliver chose the chair that didn’t expose his back.Another point in his favor.
The interview started smoothly with questions about staff management, gym operations, and conflict resolution.Oliver answered in clear, even sentences.He was confident without being cocky, had solid leadership qualities, and no obvious red flags.He even smiled when Chloe did, which Kayne chalked up as good social instinct.
Then the shift hit.There was a flicker in Oliver’s gaze, slicing toward Kayne.Recognition.A fraction of a pause.Kayne’s muscles tightened.
“You were Navy?”Oliver asked.
Kayne stayed still.“Yeah.”
“What unit?”
The question wasn’t small talk or curiosity.It was a coded inquiry from someone who knew exactly what he was asking.
“Teams.”
Oliver nodded respectfully.Not prying or hostile.But that flicker?Kayne archived it neatly, filed underrevisit.
Chloe missed all of it.She was outlining the manager’s responsibilities, hands shaping the air with enthusiasm so lively it filled the entire room.Oliver listened attentively, asked smart follow-ups, and took copious notes.
He was a solid candidate.
Still, something in Kayne’s instincts whispered:Watch him.
When Oliver left, Chloe dropped into her chair with a dramatic groan.“He was good, right?Please tell me he was good.I need at least one adult in this building.”
“He was good,” Kayne repeated dutifully.
“But?”Her head tilted.
“I’ll need to run a deeper background check if you decide to hire him.”
Her fingers tightened on her pen.“Why?Did he say something weird?Do you think he’s dangerous?”
He softened his voice.“No danger.Just standard protocol.We’ll double-check anyone who’ll be around you this much.”
Relief melted into her shoulders.“Okay.That’s fair.”
Before she reached for the next résumé, a soft scrape echoed from the hallway.It was barely a sound.A shoe dragging once against concrete.Kayne’s entire body went alert.
Chloe didn’t hear it.She was rummaging through her bag.
Kayne slipped into the hallway, senses sharpening as the light dimmed.
It was empty but not untouched.There was a smudge low on the fresh plaster at hand height.The dust had been clean earlier.He’d noticed.It was part of his job to notice.
Someone had stood there.Recently.They had leaned, watched.
Kayne crouched, touching nothing but reading everything: oil residue, the faint pressure curve of a palm.
He straightened, jaw ticking once.It was too close.
