“So, you’re the head of HR?” Jake asked after he sat down across from her.
Rachael pulled out a stack of papers from her desk drawer. “I wear a lot of different hats around here. Sometimes you’ll see me sitting behind the receptionist’s desk.”
Jake leaned back in his chair. “I figured the boss’s daughter would stay up here out of the stink.”
Rachael’s mouth opened a little bit, as if she didn’t know how to answer. She blinked rapidly. He’d hit a nerve. She recovered quickly. “The candles help.”
“Then I’ll know what to get you for your birthday.”
She pressed her lips together as she pushed the papers at him. He’d hit a nerve for sure.Note to self—no casual flirting. It turns her right off. And turning Rachael off was the last thing Jake wanted to do. God, if he’d just seen her on the street or in a coffee shop, he would have gone out of his way to get her attention.Focus, jackass. This isn’t a dating show. One wrong move will get you killed.
Jake filled out more forms. Perhaps he could use Rachael as an ally. It all depended on where those bruises came from, and Jake intended to find out as soon as possible. Not just for the job, he realized, but because he wanted to rip whoever had done this a new asshole. He’d been raised to respect women, to defend them, either by speaking up or with his fists if necessary. He deeply regretted the one time he’d failed. Jake tried to keep his jaw from clenching. Who could ever hit any woman, let alone someone who seemed so genuinely good? He hated men like that, bullies who destroyed women on a whim. Especially the one who’d hurt his mother and sent his life on the path to the military, the SEALs and finally to the FBI.
Down, boy. Keep it professional. You don’t have all the facts about Rachael. Women do terrible things, too. Hell, you just got done putting away Kathleen, who was more monster than woman. As much as Jake hated the idea, Rachael could still be in that camp. Even if his instincts told him she was nothing like her father. But good women could do bad things when cornered, just to survive.
“I’ll need to make a copy of your driver’s license and social security card,” Rachael said while he signed a release form.
“No problem.” Jake took the cards out of his wallet. “Hope it’s okay that I haven’t gotten a Nebraska driver’s license yet.”
She studied the license. Jake knew the information would check out, the FBI had created an extensive identity for him and the license looked no different than any other. So what was she looking for?
“California.” She looked at him through her lashes. “I’d never leave a place like that.”
Jake smiled and shrugged. “I didn’t want to, believe me. The beaches, Napa Valley. Gorgeous. But I got priced out. If I didn’t leave, I’d be living on the street and struggling to make the rent on a cardboard box.”
Her eyes unfocused, just a bit. “I think I’d still do what I could to make it work.”
“I’ll confess, I hope to get back there someday. But for now, and the foreseeable future,” Jake spread his hands. “I’m here.”
“But, why this place, Mr.—”
“Just Jake, remember?”
That hint of a smile came back, teasing Jake’s heart. “Deal, no Deal.” Then she grew serious again. “Why here, Jake?” she asked, like she was asking him why he’d douse himself in gasoline and walk through hell.
Jake shrugged as the next lie rolled out. “My mom grew up in Nebraska. Her stories made it seem like a nice, quiet place. I need more of that in my life.”
Rachael dropped her gaze. Tension grew in the air between them. God, she looked like she wanted to say something so bad.Come on, Rachael. Make my job easy. Spill your guts, woman.
Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. “Well, I sincerely hope things stay quiet for you here,” she said as she stood up. “I’ll be right back with these.” She held up his cards as she left the office.
Jake fought the urge to search the room. But he had no idea where the copy room was or how long she’d be gone, and it wouldn’t help him to get hired and fired on the same day. A lot of work went into establishing his false identity and getting him a job right in the heart of the corruption. He had plenty of time to settle in and look around town. Maybe he’d get lucky and find something at the meatpacking plant, or maybe he needed to cast his net wider. Time would tell.
The hair stood up on the back of Jake’s neck—his own personal Spidey sense, that instinct that had kept him alive in Afghanistan and later on the streets of L.A. It told him to go to the office door and stick his head out. If someone saw him, he could claim to be looking for the john.
No one in the hall, but Jake heard two voices—Rachael’s and a man’s—coming from an open door two rooms down. Was she talking to Daddy, telling him her suspicions about the new guy? He didn’t think he’d made any missteps, but he was also ready to bolt the opposite direction, down the main stairs, and be gone on his Indian.
Jake strained to make out the words. It sounded more and more like an argument, Rachael’s voice pitching higher while the guy—too young-sounding to be Daddy Deal, Jake decided—sounded smug, quietly menacing.
Smart money says this is the guy who needs his body ventilated.
The moment before Rachael cried out, Jake decided she needed his help and was already striding down the hall. At her cry, he sprinted.
Four
Poor guy. He has no idea what he’s in for, Rachael thought as she walked to the copy room. Not that she could afford to worry about anyone else. Besides, he looked like he could take care of himself just fine. Taller even than Hank, square-jawed and broad-shouldered, incredible arms that looked built through hard work rather than steroids. That would all work in his favor during the hazing period every new guy faced when he came to work for Daddy Deal.
It was his sense of humor and the kindness in his hazel eyes that Rachael didn’t want to see snuffed out. Her stomach clenched as she tried to remember the last time a man had looked at her with such warmth and she couldn’t. Even in the early days with Hank, he only looked at her with desire and a possessiveness that she mistook for caring. He’d gained her trust, then brutally destroyed it.But how much of that was my fault? Rachael felt her cheeks warm with shame. Hank put all the blame on her.
