Pushing aside the employee files, he pulled out the much larger file he’d started on Donald Knight. He knew exactly what he was looking for—the dossier he’d created on Donald’s personal life, which he’d decided was important to include because he and Margaret had been involved in an on-again off-again relationship for decades.
There it was. A tiny paragraph where Mackenzie Rivers was mentioned. He’d married her mother eleven years ago after a whirlwind courtship. He then adopted her daughter, Mackenzie Rivers, and sent her to the same elite boarding school as his only biological daughter—Jenna.
He sat there staring at the same paragraph for countless minutes. The initial surprise had caused his adrenaline to rush and he waited until his pulse returned to normal before trying to make sense of this news.
If he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t just surprise that had brought on the racing heart and tension in his muscles. Betrayal. No, that was too strong a word. Betrayal was reserved for the people who were important in his life. His ex-wife and her affair with a co-worker. That had been betrayal.
Still, the churning in his gut belied reason.
Finally, he calmed his physical reaction enough to be able to think it through and the end result was simple enough—Jenna knew who he was.
Fuck.
She’d known all week, most likely.
He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Mortifying. He was a ridiculous human being. Here he’d been posing as someone else and she’d known from the start exactly who he was.
But how? And did she know why he was there?
She had to have some inkling if she hadn’t called him out on his lies. He may not have known the woman for long, but long enough to know that she wouldn’t sit by quietly and accept his lies because she was afraid to embarrass him. Or because she was afraid of conflict—he would guess that woman had never run from a fight in her life.
So what was left? Either she knew exactly why he was there and was keeping silent for her own reasons—to see what he uncovered, maybe. Or to make sure he wasn’t on the right track. If she knew why he was there, it would almost surely mean that she knew more than she was letting on about whatever mischief was going on at the firm—perhaps she was even involved, somehow.
The other possibility was that she didn’t know the specifics of why he was there. Judging by her attempt to gain access to his phone, that option seemed far more likely. Some of the tension in his chest eased a bit at that thought and he realized he didn’t want to believe that Jenna was involved in espionage.
Shit. Developing a crush on a potential suspect was completely unprofessional. But it wasn’t like he’d set out to be infatuated on the job. The woman had come into his life like a bulldozer, knocking over every inhibition in her path. In that sense, she was dangerous. But the fact that she was being followed told him that she could very well be the one in danger.
He jabbed a pencil at the dossier making holes along the edges. If she was in danger, that was all the more reason he should stay close to her. The very thought that she might be hurt in all this was enough to have him prepped for a fight.
There was no way he’d let her get hurt.
But what if she was the suspect he was looking for?
He didn’t think so. But then, he didn’t want to think so. If there was one thing he could be sure of, it was that he couldn’t trust his gut as long as Jenna was in the picture. She messed with his instincts, clouded his judgement. She made his black-and-white world a chaotic mess of colors.
But her presence in his life was only temporary. He just had to get through this case without losing his senses completely.
By the time he was ready to leave for the day, he’d come up with a plan. The only way to do what Margaret asked and to ensure Jenna was safe was to stay close to her side.
That new unfamiliar smile made him feel ridiculous as he headed out of his office and back to his apartment. He had his work cut out for him. Staying close to the sexy siren who’d been haunting his dreams and ruining his focus.
It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it.
Chapter Eight
Jenna skipped out on work on Friday. She told herself it was so she could do some more digging on the firm and its employees but she couldn’t lie to herself for long. And even if she could, Mackenzie wouldn’t let her get away with it.
“You’re running scared, you little chicken!”
Mackenzie had shown up at her apartment around lunchtime after a morning of texting back and forth about recent developments. Apparently Mack hadn’t been satisfied with her one-word responses and had taken it upon herself to continue the grilling in person.
“I’m not running,” Jenna tried to say, but her response was drowned out by Mackenzie’s chicken noises. When she finally stopped clucking, Jenna tried again. “I’m not running, I just had some work to do that was better done outside the office. I wouldn’t be a terribly good spy if I dug into employee backgrounds right in front of the employees, now would I?”
Mackenzie just rolled her eyes as she fell onto Jenna’s overstuffed sofa. “So you’re a spy now, Snow White?”
Jenna shrugged. “If the shoe fits, Cinderella.”
Mackenzie let out a snort of a laugh. “Cute. So what have you uncovered so far?”
She shifted a bit and feigned interest in the emails on her phone. “Um, not much.” Not much, as in nothing at all. She’d barely given the investigation a thought this week. She’d been far too distracted by the mysterious detective. But the two were surely related, right? So maybe her preoccupation hadn’t been a total waste. “Have you learned anything new from your sources on why Hunter McCaffrey would be undercover at the firm?”
Mackenzie shook her head. “Nah, I asked around but I think my sudden interest in a retired detective might have stirred up some suspicion so I laid off the questions.”
Jenna sighed. “So we’re still at square one when it comes to Hunter’s reasons for being at your dad’s office.”
Mackenzie managed to look offended while also helping herself to some of Jenna’s lunch of reheated leftovers. “Have you no faith? You’ll bring him to this stupid shindig tonight and I will work my magic. If I can get mafia members to spill their secrets, I’m pretty sure I can handle one curmudgeonly, old detective.”
“He’s not a curmudgeon.” Or old. Well, not too old, at least. But she didn’t say that out loud because Mackenzie would inevitably ask—too old for what?
To date? Hardly. She’d determined immediately that he was not her type. So what then? To sleep with?
Maybe.
Before her imagination got too carried away with that possibility, Mackenzie interrupted. “Of course he’s a curmudgeon. I’ve never met the man, but I already have an image of him in my head.”
Jenna laughed. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“He’s the strong, silent type,” Mackenzie said.
Jenna kept quiet. She was right about that.
“Maybe just a little too earnest for your liking.”
Crap, her stepsister wasn’t bad at this guessing game.
“Probably a solid guy with a hero complex.” Mackenzie was studying Jenna’s face as she talked as if Hunter’s M.O. was written there. “By the way you’re running in the opposite direction, even though you’re clearly attracted, it’s safe to say he’s also a homebody.”
She laughed at that. “I have no idea if he’s a homebody or not. Besides, I have no objection to staying in. It’s not like I go out clubbing every night.”
Mackenzie shook her head as she reached for one of Jenna’s carrot sticks. “That’s not what I mean by homebody. I mean, he’s the kind of guy who screams commitment. The kind of guy who you can imagine settling down with a wife and a big brood of kids and thinking it’s the best thing on earth.” She arched one brow as she looked up from the food. “You know, the kind of guy who is your worst nightmare.”
Jenna feigned indignation. “I don’t kn
ow what you’re talking about.”
But they were both stifling laughter as Mackenzie said, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot how much you love long-term relationships.”
She made Mackenzie laugh with her over-the-top shudder of horror. “All right, so maybe I’m not wife material—”
Mackenzie let out a snort. “Not wife material? Jenna, you bolted from a perfectly good man just because he asked you to pick up his mail when he was out of town.”
Jenna’s jaw dropped. “That is a big step! Too big for what we had going on.”
Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “That’s right, I forgot. You’re only interested in short-term flings.”
Jenna gave a quick nod.
Mackenzie looked too innocent as she popped another bit into her mouth. “It’s nice and safe that way.”
Jenna was about to protest but before she could Mackenzie started clucking again. “Like I said—you’re a chicken.”
“I’m smart,” Jenna said. “What you call fear, I call self-preservation.” Mackenzie opened her mouth to protest but Jenna cut her off. “If you’ll recall, you had a similar perspective just a few months ago.”
“Yes, but then I came to my senses.” Mackenzie looked so smug it was all Jenna could do not to stick out her tongue. Sometimes her former stepsister had a way of bringing out her bitchy inner teen.
She resisted the terrible urge to point out that Mackenzie was in the midst of the honeymoon period. Newly engaged and happily in love, her formerly jaded stepsister was donning a permanent pair of rose-colored glasses.
And while she hoped for Mackenzie’s sake that her stepsister stayed this blissfully happy, life experience had taught her well that most marriages didn’t last long. In her father’s case, most never made it past the two-year mark.
Rather than poison Mackenzie’s happiness, she changed the topic to something far safer, though no less contentious: high school.
“Be honest, Mack. Are you just going to this reunion to rub it in all the mean girls faces that you got Prince Charming in the end?”
Mackenzie’s head fell back against the sofa with a laugh. “First of all, don’t think I didn’t notice that you just changed the topic on me. We are so not done talking about this. And second—of course not. I’m not that petty.”
When Jenna gave her an arch look, Mackenzie grinned. “I’m going so I can rub my career success in their faces. Obviously.”
“Mmm. High school loser to media mogul in ten years—they’ll definitely be impressed.”
“Loner, not loser.” Mackenzie gave a huffy sigh.
“Same difference,” Jenna said just to mess with her. It was an argument that dated back ten years as well and it seemed oddly appropriate that they revisit it again when they would face the ghosts of high school past in a matter of hours.
Mackenzie held her hand up to her face and eyed her sparkling engagement ring. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m just a little petty.” She held up her hand. “I am pretty psyched to see those bitches’ faces when they find out I got Jacob.”
Jenna laughed. “I knew it!”
Mackenzie was laughing too. “Oh come on. Tell me you’re not just a little stoked that you’ll be showing up with the hottie huntsman on your arm.”
“Hunter, not huntsman. And for tonight you need to call him Mark Wayne. He doesn’t know that we know, remember?”
Mackenzie leveled her with a stare. “You’re avoiding the question.”
Jenna’s lips twitched as she fought a smile. “Okay, fine. I’m not unhappy to have a sexy hottie as my date. Especially considering my alternative was to be a third wheel to the sickeningly cute couple of the hour.”
Mackenzie grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t intended as one.”
Mackenzie wasn’t listening. She had gotten to her feet and was pulling Jenna up as well. “Come on, Snow White. We’ve got to pick out your dress for the ball.”
“Seriously, Mack, you’ve got to let this fairy tale thing go.”
Mackenzie dragged her toward her bedroom. “I’m thinking that slinky red number. You’ll be the belle of the ball for your huntsman.”
“You do know Snow White never went to a ball, right?”
“Or maybe that little pink cocktail dress? You look super cute in that.”
Jenna let herself be dragged into the walk-in closet and despite her grumbling, she found herself modeling several dresses, eyeing her reflection critically. It wasn’t like she wanted to impress Hunter or anything, but her mission to get information out of him would be much easier to accomplish if he was distracted.
In the end she settled on the slinky red dress, which accentuated her long legs without being too revealing.
Mackenzie grinned at her in the mirror. “You are going to knock him dead with that number.”
“I don’t want to kill him.” She turned her head to check out her reflection from behind. “Just stun him a little.”
It was the first time Hunter had ever been picked up for a date—back when he’d dated Lana, he’d always been the one to pick her up at her place. He supposed that was why his reaction at seeing Jenna was so intense—she arrived in his doorway like some sort of apparition.
He wouldn’t have been struck speechless had he been the one showing up on her doorstep. Or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself as he scraped his jaw off the floor.
Stunning.
Jenna was sexy as hell in her pencil skirts and black suits, but in a bright red, form-fitting cocktail dress? Shit, this woman was lethal. She could kill him with those stiletto heels if the mere sight of her hadn’t already given him a heart attack.
That’s exactly what it felt like—the sudden and inexplicable pain in his chest. The lightheadedness. The inability to breathe.
Then, as if he wasn’t already a dead man, she cocked her head to the side and gave him a smile that slayed him. “You clean up nice, Mr. Wayne.”
It was the use of that phony name that finally cut through his addled senses. He came back to reality with a sickening thud.
Her smile was seductive…and fake as hell. There was no way she really had a thing for him, Hunter McCaffrey, an injured, washed-up, detective divorcee. She was only trying to get information—on him or on the case, he still didn’t know. But he would find out.
Rather than invite her inside his humble home and humiliate himself any further, he took her by the arm and led her to her car.
The ride to the hotel with tense and long. He waited for her to speak first, but quickly realized he would be waiting forever. Finally, he broke the silence. "So, why me?"
"Why you?"
“Why take me as your date,” he clarified. “I have no doubt you could have your pick of men.”
She cast a quick glance, her lush lips curved up with amusement. "Why not you? Sounds like someone here has some low self-esteem."
"Just surprised," he said.
"Maybe I have a thing for environmental consultants," she teased. Her eyes flicked to the side and caught his gaze and for a moment he was stunned speechless.
He shook his head. This would not do. He couldn't let this woman have the upper hand. "And here I thought you were the type who only dates her own kind.”
“My kind?”
He watched her profile as her smile grew broader. He would not fixate on those lips. He would not… Too late.
But she was waiting for an answer. Her kind, what exactly did he mean by that? "You’re a successful woman, Jenna. I got the sense that you typically date men who are just as career-driven as you."
Jenna half turned in her seat to look at him and he had the satisfaction of seeing her genuine surprise. Then she seemed to catch herself. "Are you telling me you're not career driven?"
He shrugged and kept his tone casual. "I just figured you typically date other lawyers, maybe a judge now and again…maybe the occasional doctor."
He kept his gaze straight ahead watching her navigate traff
ic like a pro, but he caught her quick look in his direction. That's right, he’d done his digging.
His sense of victory was fleeting and juvenile. But he was a private investigator, for God’s sakes. A former detective for the New York City police force. He needed her to know who she was dealing with.
Whatever it was she thought she was doing at the firm, she was out of her league. Not because she was a woman, obviously, but because she didn't know the first thing about running an investigation. Judging by the way she was followed to her home, he'd guess this woman was making waves left and right. Hell, she and that stepsister of hers had already managed to raise red flags while investigating him. Who knew what other attention they'd inadvertently attracted.
Jenna bounced back quickly from her surprise. He watched her hands tighten their grip on the steering wheel. "It seems you know me quite well, Mr. Wayne. Too bad I can't say the same for you."
"Oh, I think you know me better than you let on." It was with some effort that he kept from laughing out loud at the frustration he saw pinching her features. Her thought process was clear as day. She was trying to figure out if he knew that she knew who he was.
After several long seconds, she turned to face him. "Why did you say yes?"
When he didn't immediately answer she continued. "If you think you know me so well and you know the type of man that I typically date, why did you agree to this?" She cast him a look out of the side of her eyes. "Clearly this won't lead to anything. And a one-night-stand is hardly your norm."
It was his turn to gape at her. How the hell did she know that? It was true, but that was beside the point. He knew damn well that her stepsister hadn't poked around into his private life. So where was she getting her information?
He almost asked her just that but caught himself in time. And then before he could bring up the conversation once again, they pulled up in front of the hotel where the reunion was to take place.
Snow White Espionage (Barely a Fairy Tale Book 2) Page 9
