I don’t wanther to leave the room. She needs to be visible. I feel safer when I can see her.
I should really crack down on the dress code. That tiny thing she’s wearing is going to have every guy in the office staring at her legs and ass.
The caveman thoughts are getting out of hand. She’s with the enemy, clearly here to exploit me. The fake life they set up for her would convince someone less paranoid. There are too many coincidences for her to truly be the innocent woman she’s playing.
Maybe it has nothing to do with Tycos. Maybe she’s here from a rival corporation, one I bought out in the last year since taking over BE.
The cameras planted in my apartment were Russian. Was that an intentional decoy?
I’ve pissed off some people, being too damn good at my job. Those failing businesses should have thanked me for buying them out when they were already going under, but of course, they see me as the evil one, ruining their chances of digging themselves out of their own shithole.
I slipped up, using her first name. She clearly noticed too. It gave away that I’d looked into her because she’d never given it to me, and neither had Georginne when she introduced her to me. Technically, I could’ve found it out by reviewing her paperwork or approving the hire, but this whole week, I’ve only referred to her by her last name. I need her to think she’s not special, that I haven’t noticed her.
Then, don’t ask her to sit in your office and question her about her childhood, idiot.
Okay, but I’m trying to find the chink in her armor. The fake dad was one, but he could genuinely still be her dad. His records do show a daughter named Kate Dawson. It seems far-fetched that whoever she works for could’ve falsified his history as well, but I will never underestimate Tycos again.
My head starts to hurt from the back and forth of wanting to trust her. My brain disagrees with my heart on this one, and my instincts have steered me wrong before. The one person I wish I could talk to about this paid for that mistake with his life.
Until I can prove it, I’m assuming she’s an agent. It’s the only safe call.
My sister’s name pops up on my phone. I swipe to answer the call.
“Fallon, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re not trying to plan an international meeting in Korea on the same day as my wedding...again.”
“I told you I wouldn’t.”
Fallon’s last visit to my office was the result of her being informed via email that I wouldn’t make it to the wedding because of a meeting in Korea I couldn’t miss.
This time, I planned for it to be at the reception, so technically, I’m not lying. She won’t notice a few Korean businessmen milling around the cake table.
“Well, that’s a relief to hear. Your jet won’t suddenly be out a pilot the day before, will it?” she says, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
Fallon has the potential to be vicious when she doesn’t get her way.
“Even if he is, you know I can pilot a jet.”
“Are you bringing a date?”
The blue eyes of my PA flash in my mind.
“If I was going to, where should she get a dress?”
“She can’t find her own dress?”
I sigh. “Do you have any suggestions or not?”
“Well, I would like to think with how much this wedding costs, the guests will be in original designs, but if it’s going to beoff the rack,I can call around. As if I don’t have enough to do already,” she grumbles.
“I think what you mean is, Kendall will be calling around for you.”
Her PA is a saint for putting up with my sister.
“Hmm, still just another thing on my plate to deal with. What size is she?”
Not stick skinny—thank hell. She’s flawless, the perfect size around the waist, hips flaring out just wide enough for...
