St. Joseph Hospital maybe? Or it could be St. Joseph Church?
Hell, this could be for the St. Joseph fundraiser held for the police force every year. Sure, my father is retired, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still involved.
I’m going to have to ask him, but that’s not really an option.
I risk him freezing me out completely if he realizes I snuck into his house, lifted this sheet from the garbage, and, worse, made copies of his old files.
Yep, no. There will be no asking him anything.
I’ll just have to use my own deductive reasoning skills to come up with a plausible means to extract the information from him or someone else.
Maybe I can call all the St. Josephs in the area and see if they can steer me in the right direction.
I’m about to pick up my office phone and call when my cell starts to vibrate on the desk.
It’s Tobias.
I think about answering the phone but decide if I do, he’ll probably summon me to his office. Not something I want to do right now.
No. I shake my head. I’m busy. Finding out what my dad is hiding is more important.
I hit the button. Decline.
Then get back to the matter at hand and dial the number I find for St Joseph’s. I picked the hospital first. If that’s a dead end, I’ll call the church. I’m sure I can find a nice old lady who likes to gossip who might be willing to help me.
“St Joseph’s Hospital, how may I help you?” the operator on the line answers.
“I was wondering who I can speak to about a letter I received?” I try to keep it vague in an attempt to mentally come up with a plausible reason I have for wanting this information when she asks.
I got nothing.
If my dad was there and this is a medical bill, it would be a huge HIPAA violation for her to tell me.
“I’ll need more information than that.” The lady practically scoffs. Something tells me if I could teleport to the hospital and see her, she would be rolling her eyes in disdain.
“All I have is a list of numbers? Will that help? It might be reference codes?”
“It sounds like a billing code.”
“Oh, good. That means you can tell me what reference code 67zf means?”
“I’m sorry, I think you misunderstood. That’s not something I can help you with.”
“Is there someone I can speak to in billing then?”
“I’ll transfer you over,” she mutters.
The next thing I know, I’m being sent to the mailbox of the billing department. The good news is that I might have narrowed it down to a bill, but for what? He did say he was going for his annual checkup. Maybe they did blood earlier? That happens, right?
After the chime, indicating for me to speak, I leave a message asking for someone to call me back, but to be honest, I know it’s a long shot. Even if I can get someone on the line, they won’t tell me anything, certainly not what the codes are.
I’m up against a rock and a hard place. I wonder if we have a PI on staff. I’m sure we do with the clients we have, but contacting them is a different matter.
I’m about to step out and ask Nancy, the office manager, when my door swings open and a very angry Tobias is storming toward me. He looks larger than life. Way too big for this small space.
His jaw is rigid, but it’s the throbbing vein on the side of his face that gives me pause.
He is pissed. But not normal pissed.
Nope. This is next-level pissed.
I stand and make my way over to him, about to tell him where to go and gesturing to the door when he steps forward.
On reflex, I take a few steps back until my back hits the wall.
“When I call, you answer.” His nostrils flare. “You don’t send me to voicemail.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I roll my eyes. “I was busy.”
Real mature. But I’m over being professional right now.
“Bullshit!” he bellows, and I swear it bounces off the walls like a ping-pong ball.
Paying him no mind, I give him a smile, a cheeky one. “I was.”
“Doing what? Because I don’t remember giving you a task I needed you to complete?”
I shake my head and tsk. “You. Are. Not. My. Boss.” Overkill, maybe, but again, zero fucks given. The man is an ass. A sexy one, but an ass.
“Oh, no?” He moves in closer. Shit.
His arms lift to close me in.
The more distance he eats up, the fuzzier my brain gets. By the time we are mere inches away, I forget what he’s saying and why I’m saying, “No.” The man makes my knees wobble. What are we even talking about? Get your shit together, Skye. I give myself a little shake, knocking the fog away and remembering the conversation. I shove his shoulder. “You might be able to buy my boss, but that doesn’t make you mine, nor am I for sale.”
“Everyone has their price.” His face is close enough that I can feel his chest expand as he speaks.
The soft fragrance of his cologne surrounds me, and I want to bask in the smell.
Crisp and fresh.
Hints of cinnamon and woods.
I’m not even sure it’s his cologne. This might be all him, and it’s delicious.
“Not me,” I hiss. He’s a planet and has a gravitational pull.
Fuck.
I need out. That way, I’m no longer under his spell. I sidestep, then duck under his arm.
Now, with a little distance put between us, I can think again. “Just because Mr. Williams says I’m going to work for you doesn’t mean I’m going to drop my life for it. If you want my help, you need to back the fuck off.”
“Let’s go. I’m sick of having an audience.”
He grabs my arm and begins to pull me out of the office. That’s when his words hit me. Audience? What audience? We aren’t alone? There is a group of assistants gathered and staring.
Damn glass window. I forgot to pull the blinds shut. Whoever thought having a window looking into an office was a good idea was actually an idiot.
As I follow him, I see my boss’s eyes are wide.
“No other clients,” Tobias snaps at him, or maybe at me, probably at both of us.
I’m too pissed to object.
Or . . .
Tobias has officially broken me.
21
Tobias
All I see is red.
I’m at a boiling point.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
She fucking sent me to voicemail, and if that isn’t bad enough, she gave me shit when I called her out on it.
There’s no speaking as we head down to the lobby. A part of me expects her to object, yell, kick, or scream, but she is resigned to her fate.
In the lobby, she’s docile, but I know this is fleeting. I’m sure once we are out of the watchful eyes of her colleagues, she will let loose, and I welcome the fire. I can’t wait to be burned.
That’s the fucked-up part. When I had her cornered against the wall, I have never been so fucking turned on in my life. This girl drives me crazy. We keep moving, and the doorman is quick to give us an exit.
Now outside, I’m pulling her toward the street, toward my waiting car, and for what? Fuck if I know.
I have no idea where I’m taking her, but I can’t stand the watchful eyes in the damn office. One thing has become painfully obvious to me—I have lost my mind.