I grunt. “He can handle it.”
He can. But if this becomes pattern instead of exception, it’s a problem. I don’t reward habits that edge us toward risk.
There’s a faint knock on the interior door—Roisin, the HR rep, peeks in with a clipboard.
“Morning,” she says, chipper in that way that always grates. “Just letting you know the new hire’s outside. She’s early.”
“Bring her in five,” I say.
She nods and slips back out.
O’Driscoll clears his throat. “You want me to give the rundown?”
“Later. I want to see how she handles direct oversight.”
“She’s not the usual type we get,” he mutters, not quite disapproving. “Overqualified.”
I glance up. “And?”
“And she’s polished.”
“That bother you?”
“No, sir,” he says. “But if she starts asking the wrong questions?—”
“She won’t.” I shut the ledger and toss it back on the pile. “And if she does, we’ll know what kind of asset she is.”
He inclines his head.
I turn toward the back wall where a screen displays rotating feeds from the yard. The van’s still idling at the edge, Roarke standing just out of view but close enough to intercept if needed. I’ll let it sit for now. See if the driver gets nervous. Sometimes, it’s the waiting that smokes out a tail.
The admin printer kicks into motion beside me, jolting one of the younger clerks into scrambling for the tray.
“Don’t let it jam,” I say, not turning.
He freezes, palms flat on the tray. “No, sir.”
I check the wall clock. 9:17.
She’s early, but not by accident.
“Bring her in,” I say, not raising my voice.
O’Driscoll hits the intercom. “Send her through.”
And that’s when Riley Quinn walks in.
The moment she steps into the operations office, I know.
Same curve of her mouth. Same thick lashes. Same eyes that locked with mine across a crowded club and didn’t look away.
Except now, she’s polished. A high ponytail, clean blazer, minimal makeup, and a face that shouldn’t belong in a port office surrounded by freight schedules and ink-stained hands. She’s dressed like a logistics analyst, but she moves like sheknows every man in the room is either watching or pretending not to.
Including me.
Her hips shift as she walks—subtle, but not accidental. There’s something unapologetic about the way she owns her space, even though it’s her first day.
My hand stills on the pen I was using to sign off a customs check.
