A glance at the clock tells me that Mr. Force isn’t expecting me for another twenty minutes. But I don’t dare wait that long to go to his rescue.
On the other hand, what happens if I charge upstairs, full of accusations? Mr. Force apparently trusts this stranger. He met me less than two hours ago. Why should he trust me over this other guy?
It’s a valid question…and I don’t have a valid answer. But I can’t stand injustice, so I don’t want Mr. Force going down for someone else’s crimes. There’s no question I have to do something…
But maybe that something is merely keeping Mr. Force from signing whatever documents the stranger brought. At least for now. If I can win my prospective boss’s trust over the next two days, I’ll tell him what I overheard. Maybe then he’ll believe me and refuse to sign.
But what if he doesn’t?
I ignore the doubt, along with the fear that he’ll fire me for even suggesting his trusted employee is crooked. Keeping quiet isn’t an option.
After using the powder room I find on the first floor, I give myself a silent pep talk in the mirror. I wish I felt better afterward. Sure, I’m smart. But I’m hardly used to swimming with sharks. So far, Mr. Force has only circled me to determine if I can keep up enough to be helpful. He didn’t move in for any sort of kill. His treasonous employee? He’s a guy willing to commit a crime and throw his boss under the bus for his own gain. So he’s definitely the killer kind of shark. If I’m the thing that stands between him and a long stint in the slammer, he’ll definitely try to take a bite out of me.
Are you really prepared for that?
Probably not, but I have to try.
After flipping off the bathroom light, I make my way back up the stairs. As I reach the top floor, huffing and puffing again, which only reminds me that I need to get more exercise, I hear a low, mumbled exchange of voices at the end of the hall, then make my way to Mr. Force’s bedroom.
Nothing prepares me for the sight of him standing beside his bed, naked except for a pair of white boxer briefs. He leans on a claw-foot cane while a man in an impeccable pale gray suit helps him into a clean pair of black pajama pants. Since his hair is wet, it’s obvious Mr. Force has showered while I ate. He shaved, too, freshly exposing all the sharp angles of his jaw.
Our eyes meet, and I stand, still and stunned. But I can’t stop my gaze from wandering down to his bulging-wide shoulders, his broad, hair-roughened chest, his multi-pack of abs that attests to his obvious exercise and clean-eating regimen, and his sizable bulge that seems to be swelling in his underwear—until the stranger cuts off my view by settling the pants in place.
Finally, I have the good grace to cast my gaze down to his expensive carpet, but my cheeks heat and my heart revs. I hate to think about how damp my panties suddenly feel. Is there any way I can work for Mr. Force without throwing myself at him or falling madly in lust?
I turn and peer down the hall. If I don’t, I’ll only gawk again at his impressively male body and lickable abs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”
“It’s fine,” he says amid the rustling of cloth. “You can come in now.”
I take my time looking his way again, then enter the room, not because I don’t want another peek but because I need the time for my blush to fade. Finally, I clear my throat, paste on a businesslike smile, and step into the bedroom like nothing happened.
Fake it until you make it, right?
“Savannah, this is Marcus Hunt, my senior VP over the Foreign Investments team.”
The thirty-something guy is ridiculously attractive—sandy hair, green eyes, shoulders for days—but I’m not drawn to him. He has a sharp, watchful stare far more suited to a mafia enforcer than an executive.
He sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” I lie through my teeth as we shake.
Instantly, I resist the urge to wipe my hand on my skirt. Nothing in his eyes says he’s evil, but his plan to intentionally set his boss up as the fall guy says otherwise.
“Marcus, Savannah is auditioning to be my new assistant.”
“Ah.” He raises his brows at me.
What the hell does that mean?
Before I can figure it out, Mr. Force turns back to me. “Marcus brought your things. They’re in the bedroom across the hall.”
“Thank you,” I manage stiffly.
The stranger nods with a smile that doesn’t look real. “You’re welcome. You’ll need to set up your new Mac, but that shouldn’t take long.”
“Why don’t you work on that while Marcus and I finish our conversation?”
So he can pull a fast one on Mr. Force while I’m busy? A glance at the nightstand shows me a bottle of prescription pills that wasn’t there before Marcus’s arrival. I can’t read the label from this distance, but since the lid is off and there’s a half-empty glass on the nightstand, I can only surmise Mr. Force has taken something for the pain.
Which means he may not be thinking clearly.
Suddenly, his phone dings and he lifts the device with a scowl. “It’s Hennessey. Large-cap group,” he tells me. “I need to answer this.”
Hennessey is also probably Marcus Hunt’s partner in crime and Mr. Force’s distraction.
I’ve got to do something now. “I have a few questions for you, Mr. Hunt. Since you’re here and all…”
Both men send me sudden, sharp glances. Hunt looks somewhere between taken aback and suspicious. Mr. Force seems almost amused.
“What kind of questions?”
I was afraid he was going to ask me that. I have to think of some query that sounds halfway intelligent, but I confess that since I’ve been moving these past few days—and trying to convince myself it wasn’t a mistake—I haven’t paid attention to the financial news like I usually would.
“Um…given rising tensions in the South China Sea, how do you see international trade affected in the Pacific Rim countries? Are you bullish or bearish on continuing deals and profits into next year?”
“That’s a deep question. Got an hour or two?” Hunt quips dismissively.
Mr. Force’s phone dings again and he regards it with another scowl, thumbs flying as he eases down to the mattress.
Is he taking a load off because the meds are working?
I need to stall Marcus Hunt a bit longer.
“To learn? Always. You and Mr. Force will both find that I have an insatiable curiosity and I want to understand how people and finances are affected, especially by politics. What do you think is the world view on China’s seeming aggressions in the region?”
He blinks, clearly surprised, then casts Mr. Force a questioning gaze.
My prospective boss gestures to Mr. Hunt to continue. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes, after I clear up some things for Hennessey.”
“Sure.” He sends me a tightly polite smile. “Another time, maybe? I need to get back for a four o’clock. Can you just sign these real quick, Chad? Then I’ll be on my way.”
Finally, I see an opening and grab the folder. “Leave them with me. I’ll make sure they get signed the moment he’s available.”
Marcus snatches the folder back with a scowl. “These are critical. I can wait a few more minutes.”