Thanks to a hellish traffic jam, it’s nearly an hour later when I arrive at the office and ride the elevator to our floor. Jessica let’s me know that Derek is in the building, and that he shut his door about the time Seth observed William standing outside the pharmaceutical plant on a phone call. I also know Emily’s still at her desk working. That’s a problem I’ll solve while chatting with my father about “Agent Jones.”
Entering the lobby, I offer the receptionist a two-finger wave and head down the hallway toward my father’s office, my blood pumping a little faster with the knowledge that I’m about to see Emily. Rounding the corner to her office, and my father’s, I stop at the sight of her on the phone, her gaze averted, and damn if my heart doesn’t race just looking at her. And my heart doesn’t race in reaction to anything, not even a courtroom full of people during closing statements.
She ends her call and her attention lifts, her eyes going wide as they land on me. I stride toward her, stopping in front of her desk. “Hi,” she says, her voice quavering ever so slightly, the high neckline of her black silk blouse reaches her collarbone, and is ten times sexier than Lana’s deep V.
My gaze flicks to my father’s office, and back to her. “Is he alone?”
“Yes.”
I lean forward, resting my hands on the desk, my gaze meeting hers. “Why are you still here?”
“I don’t want to leave.” She lowers her voice. “Shane. I can help you.”
“The way to help me is to give me the peace of mind to know whatever I do, won’t put you at risk.”
“Shane—”
“This isn’t a debate, Emily. You will not stay here.” I push off the desk and walk to my father’s doors, opening them without knocking.
“Holy fuck, son,” he grumbles as I step inside and shut the doors behind me. “Did I not bring you up with manners?”
“Mom brought me up with manners,” I say crossing to stand in front of his desk. “You just taught me to watch my back in case I have someone like you behind me.”
“And now you’re a killer in the courtroom,” he says, leaning back in his chair, white lines around his mouth that I suspect indicates nausea.
“You better hope I am. I was having coffee with our head of research and development for BP this afternoon, when we had an interesting guest.”
He arches a brow. “Was she pretty?”
I ignore the ridiculous comment. “She was a he and carrying an FBI badge.”
He leans forward, snapping out, “What did he want?”
“He’s investigating the FDA inspector Derek bribed, and now we’re back on the Feds’ radar.”
“Get us out of this,” he orders.
“I plan to, but you already know how fast things can escalate with the Feds. They won’t just look at the BP division, especially with our track record. They will, and probably already are, looking at every one of our divisions. Put that leash back on Derek and don’t tell me to do it. Not if you want me to be focused on fixing this.”
His eyes glint, a hint of anger in their depths he doesn’t try to hide. He might want my skills working for him, but he hates the power they give me. “I’ll handle Derek,” he says.
I give him a nod and begin to turn when he says, “One more thing, son.”
I face him again with an arched brow. “Emily told me you fucked her.”
Shocked at Emily’s actions, I check my reaction. “Are we really talking about who I’m fucking right now?”
“She also told me she’s not fucking you anymore,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken. “She’s afraid of being fired and since she’s the only damn person who’s sat at that desk in a year that I can actually tolerate, I need to be clear. She’s staying.”
A ball of anger forms in my chest. “And if I object?”
“I’ll let you choose. Do you want me to control Derek or fire Emily?”
Ignoring the ridiculous question that dismisses the FBI threat we both know he isn’t dismissing, I turn and walk to the door, with every intention of handling Emily on my own. Exiting the office, I shut the doors behind me and discover Emily is no longer at her desk. Jaw set hard, I stride through the office and down the hallway, pausing at the reception desk. “Where did Emily go?”
“She just got on the elevator with Jessica,” Kelly replies.
The elevator it is. I start walking.
EMILY
Jessica and I step into the elevator and she punches the lobby level. “What’s wrong?” she asks as the doors shut. “You sounded panicked when you called.”
“I am,” I say, pressing my hand to my forehead. “I mean, I did the right thing, but—”
“What did you do?”
The elevator stops only two floors down, and she rolls her eyes. “Oh good gosh, not now,” she says, as the doors open again, and four people crowd us into a corner.
“What did you do?” she whispers.
“Not yet,” I say.