I glance at the clock. Three whole hours until I meet him. I open a new window on my computer and try to find Marie’s secret account that Beau found. It would have to be a secret for her not to friend me. What’s on there? What is she hiding? After half an hour I give up. I clearly don’t have the same skills Beau has. Or the patience.
I go back to working on the book cover I’m creating for a client. Graphics has been a passion of mine since a class I took freshman year in high school. I’ve been able to make a business out of it and support myself after scraping together the money to buy my first computer. I use a file-hosting site to store all my projects in case I have to take off and leave my computer behind. I funnel client payments through online accounts so I don’t have to rely on banks. Basically, it’s a way for me to earn money anywhere, and I love doing it.
I finish a mock-up for a client and send it off just in time to hop in the car and head over to the agency. The door’s unlocked, but the receptionist isn’t at her desk. I wait in the reception area for a moment, hoping someone will show up. Voices draw me down the hall. A deep, rich laugh like hot coffee on a cold morning drifts from a doorway on the right. It’s Beau. Caught by the sound, I put a hand on the wall to steady my suddenly weakened knees. I can’t move. He laughs again, but stops abruptly as though he’s allotted only so much time and not a second more.
“Can I help you?”
My hand automatically goes to my thigh as I spin around to see the man who snuck up behind me.
He puts his palms up in an I’m harmless gesture. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m here to see Beau.”
He takes me in from the top of my head to my toes and back again. When he’s done I have the urge to knee him in the nuts. His face splits into a grin that’s meant to be sexy but comes off as overconfident. This guy’s a player, but he’s not using his moves on me. Yet. He does this thing with his head that knocks the hair out of his eyes. Another come-on move meant to draw female attention.
“What’s your name?” he asks, giving me the once-over again. This time it has a critical edge to it, like he’s trying to decide if I’m worthy.
“Vera Swain.”
“The new client.” He straightens. “Sorry.”
I give him the same slow perusal he gave me. He’s got the I’m a fuckup thing down pat, from his shoulder-length hair to his scuffed skater shoes. He doesn’t look employable, so he must be somebody’s boyfriend or son.
He sticks out his hand. “I’m Leo Nash.”
I was right. Cora’s boyfriend and the owner’s son. His handshake is brief and dry.
He motions toward the room where Beau’s laughter came from. “Beau’s in there.”
No shit, I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut and follow him into the room. Cora stands behind Beau, who is sitting at a desk. Beau points to something on the computer screen in front of him. She props her arm on his shoulder as she leans closer to the monitor. She mumbles something that has Beau wiping at a smile.
“Beau. Vera Swain’s here to see you,” Leo interrupts.
Beau glances up and releases the grin he tamped down. “Hey. Come in. I see you met Leo.”
I nod.
“Beau’s done some really good work on your sister’s case,” Cora says, giving Beau a look of pride. “He’s better at pulling stuff off the Internet than Leo and me combined.”
“Good,” Leo says. “Does that mean I don’t have to do it anymore?”
Cora shakes her head. “You’re not getting off the hook.”
“You know, it just occurred to me that your apartment is empty right now…” Leo says with a sly wink.
Beau clamps his hands over his ears. “Dude. That’s my sister.”
Cora laughs as she gives Beau a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll see you later.” Then, to me, “Good night, Vera.”
“Good night.”
Leo nods at me. “Nice meeting you.” He throws an arm across Cora’s shoulders. “Later, Beau.”
“Lock the front door, will you?” Beau asks.
“You got it,” Leo says.
When they’re gone, Beau gets up and brings the other chair around to his side of the desk. “Have a seat.”
When we’re settled, he works the keyboard, opening a document with saved links.