He took it with a nod of thanks and began blotting at the stain. "You know, after your first few paychecks, you could probably finance a new car."
My cheeks heated, wishing he'd not seen my pathetic excuse of a vehicle.
Who cares, we're not trying to impress him.
I glanced at my ancient Honda, with its peeling paint and dented fender, and an ungodly amount of rust that made it look like it belonged in a wrecker's yard, certainly not parked next to the sleek silver Lexus.
"Maybe," I said, knowing I wouldn't. Every penny was earmarked for Mom's treatment. Besides, this car had gotten me through college and my first job. It could last a little longer.
After retrieving my keycard from the center console, I locked up and we headed back to the elevator. Jackson held the door open for me, still dabbing at his shirt.
"I really am sorry," I said again.
"Don't worry about it. It's just a shirt." He shrugged. "Did you sleep last night? You look tired."
"Thanks," I said dryly, wanting to dodge the question. If he knew I was working my old job still, I could be deemed too unreliable and a risk, since I couldn't entirely focus on their businesses.
"I didn't mean?—"
"I know. Just new job jitters keeping me up," I lied, forcing a smile.
He studied me, and I had the uncomfortable feeling he didn't believe me. As the elevator rose, I noticed the metal chain around his neck, and focused on the outline against his shirt when he blotted the stain again. Dog tags.
"You served?" I asked, nodding toward them.
His hand moved reflexively to touch them through his shirt. "Army. Special ops."
"What made you switch to IT and security?"
Something in his expression closed off. "Needed a change. The skills transferred."
His walls had gone up so fast I almost got whiplash. I went quiet, sensing I'd touched a nerve. When the elevator reached the accounting floor, I stepped out.
"Have a good day," I said.
He nodded, his expression unreadable. "You too, Elena."
I headed straight for the bathroom to change my blouse, my mind still on Jackson. There was something about him thatdidn't quite fit the IT and security role. The way he moved, always alert. It definitely fit a military past though. The way his eyes scanned rooms, how he seemed to be able to read me with just one look. Whatever his story was, I suspected it was dark, something I didn't want to get involved in.
By the time I returned to my desk, I'd pushed thoughts of Jackson aside. I opened the files Macey had shown me yesterday and got to work. True to Jackson's word, Macey arrived fifteen minutes late, a takeout coffee cup in each hand.
"Morning, Elena! Sorry I'm running behind. Tuesday tradition—my granddaughter makes the best caramel lattes in the city, but only starts early on Tuesdays."
"No problem at all. I got started on the Lion Freight quarterly reports."
Macey beamed. "Look at you, taking initiative! I'm impressed. Here, thought you might like to try one." She offered me the second latte, and I more than happily accepted, praying the extra caffeine helped keep me alive and on task today.
"Thank you, I appreciate this a lot," I said, and she just nodded as she settled into her chair.
The morning flew by as we worked through the accounts. Around eleven, I spotted Jackson striding past our office, phone pressed to his ear, his expression tense. He spoke in low, clipped tones, his body language radiating urgency. Something was wrong. Our eyes met briefly as he passed, and I felt a strange twist in my stomach. I hoped everything was okay.
I didn't see him again for the rest of the day.
"I'm telling you, this was a brilliant move," Ivy announced when I walked through our apartment door that evening. She flung herarms around me in a hug that smelled sickly sweet like candy, mixed with the bitter tinge of cigarette smoke.
"What was?" I asked, dropping my purse on the counter.
She grinned and pulled a wad of cash from her pocket, peeling off four crisp hundred-dollar bills. "For Mom's bills," she said, pressing them into my hand. Mom. She'd taken up calling her that when she'd turned eighteen and mom had thrown her a huge celebration. It had only cemented her place in my family even more when mom had tried not to cry.
