He steps closer, lowering his arms to his sides. Now we’re only a few feet apart, glaring at each other.
“All right, Shay. Then tell me. What’s the name of this friend you heard about the position from?”
I can tell he thinks this is a detail that will trip me up. He thinks I’ll manufacture a name from thin air, which he’ll then be able to disprove as a lie because the position was never posted publicly. Or I’ll give him a name of someone inside the corporation who he thinks conspired with me to trap him into a settlement and split the proceeds.
So it’s with great pride and a profound sense of satisfaction that I prove him wrong.
“Her name is Emery. She owns a bookstore in Venice called Lit Happens that I’ve been going to for years. She said you were a customer of hers, and she thought I might be a good fit for the job.”
Cole’s lips part. He blinks. Then he closes his eyes, exhales heavily, and mutters, “Fuck.”
Not the reaction I was expecting. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not a customer of Emery’s. She’s my sister-in-law.”
I notice in my peripheral vision that everyone out in the cubicle field is still staring in our direction, watching our little drama unfold. Sure hope these glass walls are soundproof.
“Sister-in-law?”
He opens his eyes and gazes at me, nodding. “Yes. She’s married to my older brother, Callum.”
“Why on earth would she tell me you were her customer?”
“I assume to protect me.”
That hurts my feelings a little. Does she think I’m some kind of mercenary? “Why do you need protecting?’
He drags a hand through his hair and exhales heavily. “It’s just our thing. Our family thing.”
“That makes not one bit of sense to me.”
He turns around and paces the length of the office with his hands propped on his hips. It’s a small office, so he’s turning around in seconds. He paces back toward me, then makes another turn and repeats the process.
I hate myself for noticing how handsome he is. How virile. How his dark hair curls over the back of the collar of his pale blue dress shirt. How the veins in his forearms stand out.
How great his ass looks in those black slacks he’s wearing.
“We’re very private,” he says, talking as he walks. “We have to be. You can’t imagine the targets we are for every kind of scumbag out there. Scammers. Bullshit artists.” His voice drops. “Kidnappers.”
Kidnappers?
I recall how secretive everyone was about this job, all the nondisclosure agreements I had to sign and the hoops I had to jump through because of the company’s notorious dedication to privacy, and realize with a sinking feeling in my stomach that I understand what he’s saying.
The McCords are billionaires. Of course everyone would want a piece of his family’s money. Of his family’s empire. Of him.
Emery was just being careful.
I mean, I’ve known her for a while, but it’s not as if we’re close friends. We’ve never gotten together socially. She had every right to be discreet. In her position, I probably would’ve done the same thing.
Unfortunately, this clarity causes the outrage to drain from me as if a plug has been pulled. I stand there wondering if one of us owes the other an apology, and quickly decide that if he goes first, I’ll follow suit.
“Oh. I see.”
He stops pacing. Studying my face, his gaze sharpens. “You see what?”
“Nothing.”
His expression sours. He folds his arms over his chest and gazes down his nose at me, a habit that might get him castrated soon.
“It was just a figure of speech.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I know it’s inconvenient for you, but I can tell when you’re lying.”
“Baloney.”
“It’s true.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
“Your voice gets strange.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Yes, it does. You start to sound a little like a dying donkey.”
He says it with no change in his expression or tone, but I know it’s an olive branch. That little reminder of our amazing night together is his playful way of saying oops, sorry I accused you of being a calculating, gold-digging whore, let’s try to play nice.
But wait—it could be a trap. He could be trying to test me to see if I’ll flirt with him. Does he still think I’m only here to shake him down?