When I showed up at work, the prints for our department’s portfolio were no longer spread out and displayed on the worktable in Brick’s office.
I frowned as I entered, wondering if he’d moved them somewhere for safekeeping so they wouldn’t accidentally get damaged before the presentation, but when I looked around after storing my purse and coat, I couldn’t find them anywhere. I texted Brick, asking if he knew where they were, but he didn’t answer, so I continued with my day until he could make it in and I sat at my desk to check emails.
All the while, I chewed nervously on my thumbnail, casting worried glances toward the doorway every few seconds and wishing Brick would show up already, because I was beginning to dread someone had maybe stolen our freaking portfolio.
During one such peek toward the doorway, I froze solid when I made eye contact with none other than Christopher Elton, who was passing by in the hall and peering in through the glass walls as he went. Upon seeing me, he jarred to a halt, his eyes widening. Then he did an about-face and hurried back down the hall in the opposite direction he’d been going.
“Shit,” I hissed, springing from my chair.
This couldn’t be good. He must’ve been looking for me and had finally found me. Now he was headed straight to Lana to tattle; I just knew it.
Abandoning Brick’s office, I shot into the hall after Christopher and jog-walked after his retreating back. He glanced around as if feeling me tailing him, or maybe it was his spy-guilt causing him to make sure he wasn’t being followed. I don’t know, but when he discovered me in hot pursuit, he whirled his attention forward and increased his pace until he was practically running by the time he reached the elevator and jabbed the button repeatedly to force the doors open. I was still about twenty feet away when he slipped inside, so I dropped all pretenses of stalking and leaped ungracefully in after him, squeezing sideways because the doors were already beginning to close.
Christopher widened his eyes and backed away, clearly not sure what to make of my bold move.
Eyes narrowing, I stepped right up into his face and pointed a finger at his nose. “Where’re you headed, Christopher?”
“Uh.” He pressed his spine against the elevator wall to evade me, his gaze flaring with fear. “What?”
“Just so you know,” I went on, lifting my eyebrows in displeasure, “I think anyone who spies for Lana is utterly despicable.”
“I…” His mouth dropped open. “How did you know?” A second later, he seemed to realize he’d just outed himself, because he straightened his stance and cleared his throat before frowning back. “I mean, what makes you think I would ever…”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, give me a break.”
His shoulders slumped. “Okay, fine. I was on my way to report back to her, but you don’t understand…”
Drawing in a deep breath, I folded my arms over my chest and waited for an explanation. When he seemed to realize that was what I was doing, he muttered under his breath before explaining, “She’s blackmailing my boyfriend, Gavin. If I don’t do what she says, she’ll fire him.”
My eyebrows rose. “Your boyfriend. He works here too?”
“In Shirts,” he mumbled, glancing down at his hands.
Huh. I hadn’t remembered ever seeing Gavin before the night of the Halloween party. Then again, I’d worked alone in the basement for six months. I suppose it was more surprising that I knew the names of as many people who worked here as I did.
Nodding, I asked, “What’d he do?”
Christopher scowled. “Does that really matter?”
“Well…” I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “If I’m going to help you get out of this mess, then it’d be nice to know if he embezzled millions from the company or if he just didn’t recycle his pop cans. So, give it to me straight. How bad are we talking here?”
Christopher merely blinked. “You’re…You mean, you’re going to help me get out of this blackmail? How? You don’t even know me. And I still have no clue who you are.”
With an impatient sigh, I stuck out my hand. “Kaitlynn. Nice to meet you.” When he hesitantly shook with me, I returned to all business. “Now… Anyone being blackmailed by Lana is immediately on the same side as me, so… If I’m going to attempt to help you—if you’re not already beyond help—I gotta know what we’re dealing with.”
Blowing out a reluctant breath, Christopher ran a hand through his hair and returned to mumbling, “He cheated on his time card a couple times.”
I blinked. “That’s possible? How is that even possible?” Oh man, I would so suck at a life of crime. I didn’t even know how to cheat on time cards.
A shrug answered me. “Yeah, sure. You just give someone else your key card to clock in for you.”
Lifting a censorious eyebrow, I had to ask, “And was the someone else clocking in for him… You?”
“The point is,” he stressed, not meeting my gaze, “Gavin was clocked in at times he wasn’t here, and she knows it.”
“How many times?” I pressed.
Letting out an aggravated sigh, he ran his hands through his hair again. “I don’t know for sure. Not that many. More than ten, less than twenty.”
My disappointment was palpable. Sighing, I shook my head. “Which means, he probably stole roughly a couple grand from the company?”
He glanced up, his face gray. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so minor.”
“Because it’s really not that minor,” I agreed gently. “Your boyfriend probably should be fired for what he did.”
“But he doesn’t do it anymore,” Christopher insisted, his gaze pleading for me to agree. “Ever since she found out, he’s followed all the rules. I swear.”
I sniffed. “Well, thank goodness getting caught finally put him on the just, honest path.” My voice was full of all the sarcasm I felt.
Christopher stepped close. “You’re not going to tell your boyfriend, are you? Gavin can’t lose his job. He’s up to his eyeballs in medical bills after he had knee surgery this summer. This would put him under for sure. And he’s already battling depression. Hence the reason he missed so much work. I can’t… I don’t even want to think about what would happen to him if he lost his job, too.”
I hated that I always fell victim to sympathy whenever anyone presented me with their sob story. But damn it, I just felt so bad for them. Depression. Medical bills. That poor, poor man.
Then again, no one had forced Gavin, boyfriend of Christopher, to lie and steal from JFI. That wasn’t cool at all.
“Do you still plan on telling Lana who that blonde-headed tart was you saw in the elevator with Ezra Nash?” I countered.
He frowned and shook his head. “I never called you a tart.”
I lifted my eyebrows like I didn’t buy it, even though I’m sure Lana had come up with the term all on her own.
Panic clouded his features. “I have to tell her,” he practically whined. “She lets Gavin keep his job if I tell her things.”
“But we were literally just standing there in that elevator, and you made it sound to her like we were having sex against the wall or something.”
He snorted. “Oh, I think you two were doing more than just standing there. You were totally making babies with your eyes.”
I frowned, really disappointed in myself that I’d ever had any kind of interest in this guy, just as the elevator doors dinged open.
Ezra began to step in with us, his briefcase held down to his side, only to jerk to a stop when he realized who was already inside.
The urge to ask if we were the only three people to ever ride this damn elevator filled me, but instead, I offered him a weak smile and wave. “Hey.”
He quirked an eyebrow, still glancing between me and Christopher.
“Well, this is certainly a reverse.”
Sighing, I grabbed his arm and jerked him into the lift with us before the doors could close. Christopher’s face filled with alarm. His eyes were wide as they focused on me, begging me to keep silent.
Hmm… Should I be loyal to the spy Christopher who was trying to protect his time-cheating boyfriend, or loyal to Ezra who’d rocked my world not even two hours ago?
Yeah, hard choice.
“He’s being blackmailed into spying for her,” I blurted.
Christopher gasped and clutched his heart as if I’d stabbed him.
“Blackmailed?” Ezra furrowed his eyebrows, letting me know he was listening.
“Yeah. His boyfriend, Gavin, cheated on his time card somewhere between ten and twenty times, and Lana found out about it, so she threatened to fire him if Christopher didn’t spy for her.”
“Oh God,” Christopher uttered, his wide eyes dull with shock and his hand balling into a fist against his chest as if he were having a heart attack. “You told him. You really told him.”
I blinked at him. “Of course I told him. Why are you so shocked? You’re the one who’s so sure he’s my boyfriend and that we do more than just stand in elevators together.”
Ezra lifted his eyebrows at my snarky tone. Then he turned to Christopher. “Why didn’t she just blackmail your boyfriend—not you—into spying for her?”
Christopher’s jaw clenched as if he were going to refuse to speak, but he must’ve changed his mind before he relented with, “She needed someone working under your branch of the company, and he doesn’t.”
“Are you her only spy?”
He hesitated, then said, “I don’t know. But I have a feeling I’m not.”
Ezra nodded slowly as if he believed him. “You must be dating Gavin Smart. In Shirts?”
Christopher shrank a little. “Yes, sir.” After a painful wince, he built enough courage to ask, “Are you going to fire him?” Then he seemed to realize he was in more hot water than he first suspected, because he added, “Are you going to fire me?”
“He stole from me,” Ezra said. “And you helped him.”
Christopher opened his mouth, most likely to plead his case, but a single look from Ezra shut him up.
“But you want a second chance?” Ezra concluded.
An emphatic nod answered him. “Yes, please.”
“Then you just became a double agent, my friend. If you want Gavin and yourself to get that second chance, you report to me everything you tell Lana… And you convince her you still haven’t discovered who that woman was that you saw with me on the elevator.”
Christopher glanced warily my way before wincing. “Except I think it may be too late for that one,” he announced.
Ezra took a threatening step toward Christopher, his face darkening. “What does that mean?” he growled. “You already told her?”
Dread pooled in my stomach. Just when I thought maybe God was listening and Lana wouldn’t find out about Ezra and me yet, the tables turned, because it sounded as if she already knew.
Christopher shied away from Ezra. “No! It’s just…” He lifted his hands as a shield; they shook like crazy. “She might already know, though. She specifically told me to walk by Brick Carmichael’s office and check out his new secretary to see if she—you—” He motioned to me. “Was the same woman I’d seen in the elevator. And you are.”
Ezra and I shared a telling glance—oh, hell, Lana was already onto us—before he faced Christopher again. “Then you’re just going to tell her no, it wasn’t the same woman. Got it?”
“But—”
“Got… It?”
“Yes, yes. I got it. Whatever. I have no idea why it’s so important for her to know—or not know—who you’re dating anyway, but I got it. Mum’s the word.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
The elevator door opened… On the second floor. Christopher’s stop. He glanced longingly out to his floor before hesitantly asking, “Is… Is it okay if I go back to my desk and work now?”
Ezra sent him a hard smile as he splayed out a hand. “Please do. And, Christopher?”
Christopher gulped.
“No more cheating on your time cards.”
“Yes. Yes, sir.” Christopher shot out of the elevator like a ball out of a cannon.
The doors closed, leaving me and Ezra alone.
We surged together in tandem, our arms going around each other.
“She already suspects,” I blurted.
“Shh,” he soothed, kissing my forehead and pressing a comforting palm against the side of my head. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Right. Okay. Sure. I mean, what was the worst thing that could happen, other than Lana putting a hit on us, making sure we were never seen or heard from again? No big deal. We could handle that. We’d still be together, at least.
At the bottom of the sea.
My heart lurched with worry, before I pulled back and grinned up at him. “You know what? You’re right. I ain’t afraid of no stepmother.” Lie. Total lie. I was mentally peeing my pants. “We got this. We totally got this.”
Hesitation entered his gaze. “Wait. You’re not saying you want to go public and stop hiding our relationship, are you?”
“Good God, no,” I blurted.
Ezra blew out a relieved breath. “Thank goodness.”
“I mean, the risk would be worth it if she found out,” I started, so he wouldn’t think I was ashamed to be seen with him.
“Absolutely,” he agreed, nodding, as if worried I might feel the same way.
“But I don’t see why we have to test fate, either,” I surmised, still scared to death of my evil stepmother, no matter what I claimed.
He grinned, big and wide. “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”
“Good.” I nodded, realizing he must be as terrified as I was. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Totally,” he agreed.
Taking my face between his hands, he pressed his mouth softly against mine, making me melt against him. “I like the skirt,” he said against my lips, thrilling me because he noticed I was finally wearing one… For him.
I hummed deep in my throat. “I bet you’ll like what’s under it even more.”
With a groan, he kissed me harder, and his hand crept down, seeking the hem of the skirt.
Two feet away, the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Ezra and I sprang apart, both of us winded and wiping our mouths as we turned to cringe guiltily at the man waiting to board.
Hayden shook his head and let out a long, harassed sigh. “I should’ve known you two wouldn’t be able to stay away from each other.”
“But we’re totally keeping it on the down-low so your mother doesn’t find out,” I assured him.
One eyebrow lifted, dubiously. “Yes. I can tell.” Then Hayden let out a grumble as he stepped aside for us to leave the elevator. Shaking his head some more, he added, “Whatever. It’s your funeral.” Then he stepped inside and took a sip of the to-go cup he was holding as the doors shut between us.
“Okay, so maybe we need to work on our stealth skills,” Ezra said, still staring at the closed elevator.
We turned to face each other at the same time and broke out grinning together. I nodded. “Yeah. We should probably brainstorm ways to be sneakier. Say, at my place… Tonight.”
“Sold.” After glancing around and seeing numerous people milling about but no one really paying us any attention, he held out a fist for me to bump.
When I clashed my knuckles against his, we shared another private smile, then turned in opposite directions and went our separate ways.
