"Appreciate that." This time the smile reached his eyes, creating small crinkles at the corners. "I'll be back at four to set up your accounts."
After they left, Macey raised an eyebrow at me. "Don't get any ideas about that one."
"What?" I felt heat rise to my cheeks. Of course she had seen it. Was it that obvious? "I wasn't?—"
"Every new female hire gets those ideas. Trust me, it never ends well. That man is devoted to his job and nothing else." She turned back to her computer. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, expense reports..."
Well… he wasn't married then.
Of course that was what I got from that statement.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of information, forms, and system overviews. By lunch, my head was swimming with account numbers and filing procedures. Macey sent me to the break room with directions to return in thirty minutes.
I took the opportunity to call my mother from my car instead.
"How's the new job?" she asked after I'd checked on her condition.
"Good so far. Henderson Financial Group seems like a solid company." The lie made my stomach knot, but it was necessary. If she knew I was working for Donati Enterprises, she might google them and discover Meredith's connection. From there, it wouldn't be hard to learn Meredith's maiden name was Cassaro. I couldn't risk her uncovering my real motives, especially if she'd been hiding the truth from me, which I inwardly hoped wasn't the case.
"That's wonderful, honey. Is the pay what they promised?"
"Yes, and good benefits too." That part, at least, was true. The salary would help with her medical bills, even if that wasn't my primary reason for taking the job.
"I'm so proud of you, Elena. Always landing on your feet."
Guilt twisted in my stomach. "How are you feeling today?"
"Better than yesterday. The nurse said my numbers are improving."
We chatted for a few more minutes before I had to go. As I headed back to the office, I spotted Jackson coming out of what must have been his office. Our eyes met, and that same flutter returned to my stomach.
I reminded myself why I was here—to discover the truth about my father's death and hopefully secure some kind of compensation for my mother. Getting distracted by an attractive IT specialist wasn't part of the plan.
But as I watched him nod in acknowledgment before turning away, I couldn't help thinking that some distractions might be harder to avoid than others.
Especially with an ass that looked that good in dress pants.
5
JACKSON
Iwatched Elena Peters through the security monitor as she slipped back inside from the parking lot, sliding her phone into her purse. Her shoulders dropped a fraction, the slight tension in her body visible even on the grainy feed. That wasn't the posture of someone who'd just had a casual lunch break call.
Pulling up the background check results on my laptop, I scrolled through what our team had compiled. Basic police record came back clean—not even a parking ticket. Credit score decent but not stellar. Bachelor's degree in accounting, graduated with honors. Previous employment at a small firm in another city, but only for a handful of months before she switched to a firm in her hometown, but both had given her positive references.
Standard stuff. Nothing that should have triggered my radar.
Yet something about her didn't sit right. Maybe it was how her eyes had darted around the office when Roman introduced us, or how she'd glanced at me when I'd passed her office earlier, offering me a tight-lipped smile. Or maybe it was the way she'd maintained eye contact a beat too long when we shook hands, like she was memorizing my face.
Or maybe I was just making excuses for why my pulse had kicked up when her hand touched mine.
Women always had similar responses when meeting me, and I was probably reading too much into it.
I stepped out of my office to refill my water bottle, catching Elena's gaze as she returned to her office. She gave me a slight smile, and I nodded in acknowledgement, smirking softly when she quickly averted her gaze. Something I was accustomed to.
"You know, Graves, it’s honestly offensive how good your face looks with a rifle in your hands. Like, do you wake up sculpted, or is that part of the training?"
My smirk faltered as Pickering's voice wafted through my mind, and I clutched my water bottle tighter as it finished filling.
