Trusting The Boss

by Mallory Crowe

  “Because thinking she’d feel comfortable talking to you is insane. What could she tell you anyway? Do you have a particular goal with your half-assed attempts to talk to her?”

  “My goals are my own business,” said Emma. “And unless we’re in business together, I don’t see any reason to tell you anything. Now, I came here with an offer for you.”

  “And I came here to say no to your offer,” he shot back. “Now are we done here?”

  “You haven’t even heard what I had to say!”

  “And you haven’t listened to what I’ve been saying. I am on vacation and I’m not going to help you investigate a client of mine.”

  “I can pay you. Whatever your normal fee is, I can triple it.”

  “Lady, with what you have in your trust fund, you can probably pay a lot more than that. But it doesn’t matter. I have money and I don’t need any of yours.”

  “Well, you have to want something. Just tell me and I can get it for you.”

  “The only thing I want right now is a vacation. I finished a job yesterday and don’t plan to work again until I damn well feel like it.”

  “It’s easy work. All I need you to do is tag along while I ask around about Joslyn and give me your professional opinion about what I’m looking at. Hardly exhausting stuff.”

  He didn’t appear the slightest bit convinced by her pleas. “But it still conflicts with my last job. Nothing you can say is going to change that.”

  “Well, you were there. Could you at least give me your story about what happened that night?”

  “There’s nothing to say. Your sister had a gun and was going to force Victoria to jump off the roof of her apartment building. Luckily, her and her two-bit goon she hired were taken out beforehand.”

  Emma’s eyes widened. Jace really did know more about that night than any of the reporters she’d managed to get a hold of. “I thought she was just going to shoot her,” murmured Emma.

  “Nope,” said Jace. “You’re sister is as guilty as guilty gets. So if you’re trying to clear her name, I suggest you set your sights on a more achievable goal. You know, like world peace.”

  Emma tightened her lips. “I’m not trying to prove her innocence. I already knew she’s guilty.”

  Suddenly, he looked just as confused as her cousins did when she brought up her Joslyn quest. “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

  She took a steadying breath before she met his eyes. “I’m here because I think I’m the reason she did this. After our parents died, there was a lot of suspicion on her, even though the police never proved anything. I pushed her out of my life during what could’ve been the darkest moment of hers. She lost everything: her friends, her trust fund, and her sister. I want to find out if I’m responsible for this.”

  Jace was silent for a moment and Emma was infinitely grateful that he didn’t laugh in her face. Sure, the logical part of her mind knew Joslyn made her own decisions and that sane, rational people didn’t resort to murder. But she needed clarity before writing off her last living family. “So will you help me?”

  His face answered before he spoke. “I can’t do that.”

  Emma squared her shoulders and refused to let the defeat show in her face. Jace had done everything in his power to make her feel small and out of control and she’d be damned if she let him win any more than he already had. “Fine then. I’ll just ask you a few more questions and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Jace shook his head and stepped forward, closing the distance between them until she could feel his body heat. She jutted her chin up and refused to back down.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to turn around and go up those stairs. Once you’re out of here, you’re going to forget you ever met me and pretend that there’s nothing Victoria Green can tell you that you don’t already know.”

  A deep anger settled in her gut at the idea of this virtual stranger telling her what to do. “And if I don’t?”

  Jace leaned in, until his face was inches from hers. “Well, for starters, I will throw you over my damn shoulder and carry you out of here until you’re far enough away I’m sure you’ll leave me alone. Think I’m bluffing?”

  For a long moment, Emma debated the merits of slapping Jace right in his smug face. Screw slapping—punching would be much more effective.

  “What’s it gonna be, Georgia? Are you walking out on your own or do you need assistance?”

  Emma shook her head. Jace wasn’t worth the bruised knuckles. “I’d rather avoid being touched by a Neanderthal, thank you very much,” she said in her sweetest voice, laying her natural accent on a bit thicker than normal.

  If he wanted to get rid of her, fine. She’d leave gracefully. Her anger simmered just beneath the surface as she walked up the stairs. Let him win the battle. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to give up and when all was said and done, she’d win the war.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jace watched Emma as she moved up the stairs, her back tense with rage. He was rather impressed when she managed to refrain from slamming the door shut. He’d gone full-blown asshole on her and he didn’t know many women who could keep their tempers under control for that.

  But it was for her own good, he told himself. She was on some mission to wash herself clean of her sister’s sins. Nothing she found by talking to people who should be left alone would lift that burden from her shoulders. That kind of redemption would only come from time and distance. If hell froze over and he ever actually saw her again in the distant future, she’d probably even thank him.

  Okay, maybe she wouldn’t thank him. But somewhere deep inside her stubborn head, she’d have to know he was right.

  Now that the heiress situation was handled, maybe he could actually get back to his vacation, starting with a green shake from upstairs. The small, one-room basement was hardly the most lavish place he’d ever rented out, but it had everything he needed for his stay. He’d paid cash for another two weeks and doubted he’d be extending his stay any longer.

  Jace pulled the duffel he traveled with out of the small closet and traded his workout pants for a pair of jeans and his black t-shirt for a white one. He tucked the dirty clothes into his laundry bag and stashed the duffel back in the closet. Then he grabbed his wallet and headed back up the stairs. He needed to remember to ask Michelle if Emma had ever returned the key he’d left for her upstairs.

  The barista was a long-time employee of Phillip, who owned the coffee shop and the lower level. It was his favorite spot to take his girlfriends and get away with telling his wife he was at work late without technically lying. He thought the whole thing was hilarious, but Jace didn’t care who he rented a room from as long as he had a place to sleep that wouldn’t leak when it rained.

  The coffeehouse portion of the building was still packed from the morning rush, but all Jace had to do was make eye contact with Michelle and she gave him a knowing wink. She knew he always got the same thing and always tipped well, so she called out his order to the college-aged kid behind her who prepared the orders.

  He smiled his thanks and hung back while he waited for his drink. A second later, the slightest movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He was being watched.

  The man currently staring at Jace over the top of his newspaper sat a few yards away at one of the tables next to the window. Jace couldn’t make out his face, but his point of attention was unmistakable.

  Damn it, if this was some trick or play by Emma, he was going to have to step up his asshole game. Jace looked over his shoulder and full-on glared at the man, silently telling him exactly where he could shove it.

  But instead of looking intimidated, the stranger just tightened his lips and folded his paper. He then pulled out a chair and looked expectantly at Jace.

  The kid behind the counter motioned to Jace that his drink was ready. Jace grabbed the green shake off the counter before he turned to sit with whoever the hell had been staring him down
. “What do you want?”

  The man looked to be in his early thirties and wore the type of crisp business suit that was so common here in the city. His face was cleanly shaven and, even though he was still young, he didn’t appear intimidated by Jace.

  “Nice to meet you,” said the man. “I’m Michael Devereaux.”

  Good God, another one of them. “So are you stalking your cousin now?”

  Michael smiled bitterly, as though he knew exactly how messed up the situation was. “I try not to make a habit of it,” he said solemnly. “But this is for her own good.”

  When Jace thought those same words, they sounded so reasonable. Somehow, hearing them from her cousin’s mouth made them sound much more dickish. “How so?”

  “Emma wants your help digging into certain parts of Joslyn’s life. All I want you to do is keep her from finding out where all the big monthly deposits in her checking account were coming from.”

  Jace snorted. “So what were you paying off the sister for? Some deep, dark secret you didn’t want Emma to find out?”

  Michael didn’t answer. Instead, he reached down to his briefcase and pulled out a piece of paper before he slid it over the table to Jace. “This is how important it is to me that Emma doesn’t know where Joslyn’s money was coming from.”

  Jace had to admit even he was surprised by the amount of zeros written on that piece of paper. And it took a lot to surprise him. “So this is pretty important to you.”

  “Family is our number-one priority.”

  Our. So Michael wasn’t here just for himself. Either way, none of this changed his answer. “I’m not working for your cousin, so you can take your business elsewhere.”

  Michael didn’t hide his surprise well. “I’m sure she offered to pay you well.”

  Did Jace have some sign over his head that said he was desperate for money? “Oh, she did. I’m just not interested.”

  Jace saw the frustration play over Michael’s face. “Shit. She could be halfway across the city by now.”

  “So let her go. How much trouble can she really get into?”

  Michael glared at him. “Gee, I wonder what could go wrong when Emma goes digging into a sociopath’s life. Who knows what kind of people Joslyn surrounded herself with?”

  Jace stayed silent. Emma seemed smart enough, but she had met with him in a secluded, soundproof room without knowing anything about him. “Good luck with that.” He abruptly stood up. There was nothing more for him to talk about with any of the Devereaux family.

  “Wait.” Michael stood and held out a business card. “Take this.”

  “Good luck,” Jace muttered as he put the card in his pocket. He’d planned to go back downstairs but an anxious energy coursed through him and he headed back to the street instead.

  Emma Devereaux was asking for trouble. He thought back to his own brief interaction with Joslyn. One of the two-bit goons she’d hired gotten the jump on him and knocked him unconscious. Stupid mistake on Jace’s part. He hadn’t considered that the doorman who wasn’t a doorman might have backup.

  If he had underestimated the guys working with Joslyn, what was Emma getting herself into? How deep was she really willing to go to get to the truth?

  For the first time, he actually entertained the idea of helping her. Really, it would be easy money. She’d overpay for his services and then he could bank if he took up the cousins on their offer, too. If he played his cards right, this could be the last job he needed to work. Sure, he could take on more for fun. Maybe even do some pro bono stuff for causes he actually cared about. Why not help out a fucked-up, rich family in exchange for buckets of cash?

  All he had to do was keep Emma safe and far away from her family’s secrets. Maybe not the easiest job, but as long as he could keep Emma away from Victoria, he could make it work.

  ###

  Emma sat on the brand-new looking sofa in the center of Joslyn’s apartment. Joslyn’s secret apartment, not the one she’d shared with her now ex-fiancé Terry Green. This was where Joslyn lived her double life. The apartment wasn’t even in her own name. It was rented by a “Casey Jones.” Emma had no idea what Joslyn was thinking when she’d set her plans in motion, but this was Emma’s starting point.

  She glanced around the room. Bright pops of color against a mostly white pallet. Did Joslyn decorate this on her own or did she hire someone to do it for her?

  Their family home was so different. Sure, they had grown up in a relatively extravagant mansion, but it was so homey and happy. Every piece of furniture had a history and a story. Every antique had been passed down through generations of the Devereaux family and whenever Emma walked in the front door, she felt an immediate sense of warmth and security.

  Was that how Joslyn felt when she came here? Was this were she found her warmth? Or was this just another tool she had to get Victoria Green out of the way to get her hands on the Green fortune?

  Emma might never know if Joslyn refused to talk to her, which was a whole new level of frustrating. Was Joslyn mad at Emma? Maybe she felt too guilty to talk to family? Emma was going to get some answers, with or without Joslyn’s help.

  Her phone buzzed from beside her and Emma debated even looking at it. Michael had called her three times already and was probably calling again. She couldn’t handle a judgmental talking down to right now. She’d been in a bad mood ever since she left the meeting with Jace, and she doubted that anything Michael would say would cheer her up.

  And her suspicions were only stirred at the fact that he hadn’t left a voicemail after any of his calls. As the buzzing continued, Emma gave in and checked the screen only to see it wasn’t Michael but a number she didn’t recognize. She bit her lip. He wouldn’t be sneaky enough to call from a different phone, would he? She answered it and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “I didn’t think you were going to answer,” said the familiar, deep voice.

  “Jace,” she breathed. “I thought you were done with me.”

  “I thought so too, but apparently my conscience doesn’t want you getting hurt because I was too stubborn to help. So I’m taking you up on that blank check offer to help. Where are we starting?”

  Her mouth fell open in shock. Was this some sort of elaborate joke? Or had someone else gotten to him…. “Did my cousins put you up to this?”

  “I promise that no one but you asked me to help,” he insisted. “But, hey, if you’ve changed your mind…”

  “No! I mean, I still want you. Still want you to help.”

  “Great. So tell me where to meet you, and I can head over now.”

  Half of her wanted to keep asking him more questions about what changed his mind, but the other half just wanted him to get his ass over there and start helping now. She quickly rambled off the address she was at. “I’m assuming you remember how to get here?”

  “Oh yeah. That place is burned in my memory,” he muttered. “I’ll get a cab and be over there as soon as possible.” He hung up.

  Emma stared at the phone in her hand and tried to figure out whether she just imagined the entire exchange. Jace had seemed so adamant he wanted nothing to do with her that morning. Maybe he was lying and it really was her cousins who put him up to helping her.

  But why would they want her to have help? If anything, they’d want her to go back home and stop getting in the way.

  A sense of renewed hope swirled within her. This was a man who knew what he was doing. He knew how Joslyn reacted, what she said, what she did the night of the attack. He knew the questions to ask and he would probably be able to help her find who to ask. But she had to get ready for him arriving. As soon as he got there, he’d want to know what she’d already done and how much she already knew.

  Emma pulled her laptop out of her bag and powered it up. She already had a rough brainstorming spreadsheet she’d created. Now she just had to get everything in a readable order so someone besides her could make sense of it.

  By the time she heard a
knock on the door, she felt almost ready to face Jace again. She jumped up and ran to the entryway, almost surprised he’d shown up. She was still half convinced he’d still been playing with her as he made his little phone call earlier.

  Sure enough, there he was. Standing in the hallway and right in front of her. He’d changed clothes since she’d seen him last. Instead of wearing workout clothes, he was now in a crisp, white t-shirt and jeans. The v-neck of the shirt made the cords of his neck stand out and the sleeves exposed the hint of biceps she’d already noticed before. Why was she still looking at his damn biceps?

  “So can I come in?”

  Emma winced at the direction her thoughts had taken. “Yeah, please.” She moved out of the way for him to enter.

  “Do you have a trash?” He held up a clear, empty glass with some sort of green stuff left along the edges.

  She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What on earth is that?”

  “Breakfast. Kale, apples, some flax, and about as many vitamins and minerals that can fit into one drink with no added sugar.”

  “What’s so bad with added sugar?” She tried her best not to imagine how horrible the abomination he described tasted.

  Jace smiled at her obvious discomfort. “It’s an acquired taste,” he admitted. “And it’s not like it’s the only thing I eat.”

  Emma shuddered at the thought. “God, I hope not.”

  “I take it you don’t eat a lot of vegetables?”

  “Oh no, I eat boatloads of vegetables. They just look like they did when they came out of the ground when I eat them.” She could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes at her, but he looked away before she could be sure as he scanned the room. “I think the trash is over here.” She crossed to the kitchen and randomly opened cabinets. “Or maybe not,” she muttered.

  Every cabinet and drawer she opened was empty. Jace moved to the other side of the kitchen and opened the overhead cupboards. “Looks like your sister didn’t really have a chance to settle in.”