“Hey. I was just going to head to your floor and see if you wanted to go for a drink,” Daniel said. He’d shucked his fancy coat and had rolled his monogrammed shirt up to the elbows. Even his Burberry tie looked askew.
Tom shook his head. “I have a meeting with a client. Plus, we have a basketball game tomorrow night.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Drinking doesn’t affect my game, Sally.”
Tom snorted. “See you tomorrow.” He hurried down the hall.
Daniel rubbed his clean-shaven jaw, glancing at Josie. “You’re working late.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m trying to keep up with you. Rumor has it you got the school district account on the golf course.” Apparently playing golf with the superintendent led to business.
“Yes. A lot of business deals are made on the golf course.” He frowned.
“I don’t play golf.” Especially with men. Life sucked.
Daniel exhaled, exhaustion dimming his eyes for a moment. “So you don’t play golf with the guys. Many women own businesses in the area—join the chamber of commerce and meet some. Join women’s groups like the PTO and meet some. Use what you have, Josie.”
Why was Dan giving her ideas? She lifted both eyebrows. “That’s actually good advice.”
He shrugged. “I like the playing field level. Simple as that.” He turned on his Italian loafer and disappeared from sight.
Interesting. Maybe Dan didn’t suck as much as she’d thought. Josie grabbed her calculator, adding and reading the figures on the spreadsheet before her for Agers Hardware. Why wouldn’t they match up? She bit her lip, grabbing the rest of the file from the bottom drawer.
Her door closed.
She hissed out a breath, pushing back from the desk. “Shane. I didn’t hear you.”
He shrugged. “Good. Hopefully nobody else did, either.” A click echoed. He’d locked the door. Prowling forward, he stood next to her chair, his hands dropping to knead her neck. “There’s a patrol car out front, no doubt watching for me.”
Josie lowered her chin to her chest. Heaven. The man had magic fingers, and she should really move away. “Yeah. The detective didn’t buy my story.” She fought a groan as Shane worked out the knots in her neck.
Her thighs began to soften.
Warmth lit her abdomen.
She cleared her throat and pushed away, swiveling the chair to face him. “So, what now?”
Shane slid his hands into the pockets of well-worn jeans. A dark T-shirt covered his thick chest and brought out the deep gray flecks in his eyes. “Now I borrow your computer.”
With a shrug, Josie relinquished her chair, taking her notebooks to the other side of the desk. “What are you looking for?”
Shane sat, punching keys on the computer. “First I want to hack into my military records. Then I want to find my brothers.” He frowned, dark gaze shifting to her. “I had a dream. I saw them. Matt and Nathan—if I had to guess, I’d think they were both older than me. We were at some type of camp—maybe a military one?”
Intrigue sped up her heart. She’d never even known their names. “How old were you?”
Shane shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe eight?”
Josie wrinkled her nose. “A military camp at the age of eight? Seems young.” She cleared her throat. “When you had the nightmare about losing your brother, you yelled out the name Jory.”
Shane’s jaw hardened. “Jory. Yeah. Mattie mentioned that name in the dream.” Shane rubbed his chest. “Jory.” He turned his focus back to the computer.
Josie returned to her files, working through deductions for Fuller Labs. Her favorite client. Always paid on time, always kept good records. Since they had labs all over the United States, she’d been able to keep the client as she made the move to Washington. Why couldn’t all clients be this good?
She ordered a pizza and met the pizza girl at the elevator, bringing the large pie into her office and shutting the door.
Shane looked up and smiled. “Do I like pizza?”
How odd not to remember. Josie returned the smile, placing the box on the desk and flipping open the lid. “Yes. You like pizza with pepperoni and pineapple.”
Shane frowned, his gaze on the colorful pie. “Really?”
Surprising humor bubbled through her. “Well, kind of. You like pepperoni, and I always wanted pineapple, so we learned to compromise the first month of our marriage and order it this way.” She handed him a piece.
“Thanks.” He took a bite, slowly chewed, and then smiled. “All right. The combination works for me.”
“I remember.” She took a bite. They’d been happy as newlyweds. She’d moved into his apartment, immediately repainting the walls a homey tan with white trim. Away from the base, so they had privacy. “We got married in Las Vegas.”