her boss. Clichés were definitely not her thing, yet she’d be diving headfirst into his sheets if he gave her the green light.
Sad. She was a sad woman hoping her boss would notice her. Like she had time for a torrid, steamy affair. She was caring for a child, an infant. There was nothing sexy about the haggard, overworked-mom look. But Viv would never give up fostering. She could still be a mother, yet not get too emotionally attached.
The heartache of knowing she’d never have her own children was somewhat pacified, yet the underlying hurt was never too far below the surface. But work kept her busy and her attentions focused elsewhere. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a full load at the moment.
Viv started at O’Shea’s part-time, which was perfect for her fostering schedule, not to mention that she still worked for Jack, as well. Being single, she had only a handful of people she could count on. Her parents were no longer around and she was an only child. She’d learned some time ago how to be independent, but even so, she needed some help when caring for a child and working outside the home.
Her quirky neighbor, Martha, was an adorable elderly lady who watched Katie most of the time, but when Viv was in a bind, she’d simply take Katie into the office. Well, her office with Jack.
Oh, she “worked” at O’Shea’s, but that was only a cover created by Jack to get her on the inside, up close and personal. Her real employer was one sexy, rich investigator who couldn’t move beyond his heartache to see there was still life out there.
If it wasn’t work, he wasn’t interested...which was the only reason he’d shown up so early at her house yesterday morning. The man had been through so much pain in his life, it was no wonder he was married to his job. He’d lost his mother when he’d been around nineteen, then he’d seen battle in war. His wife had been killed and he’d never known who his father was... Viv knew just enough details for her heart to break for him, but she wished he would try living again. She’d love to be the one to show him that not everything was harsh and cold...if he would only let her in.
Viv headed toward the back office of O’Shea’s. Laney, the youngest O’Shea and the only female sibling, was out front dealing with a potential client. Since they had discovered some information had been leaked to the Feds, at least one member of the infamous family was here at all times...which made Viv’s snooping a tad more difficult, considering she was here only about twenty hours per week.
Circling the antique desk that had been assigned to her in the office, she opened the top left drawer to find a pen. She wanted to jot down some items she needed to pick up from the store or she’d forget.
Katie was teething and the nights were getting longer and longer. Poor baby. She’d lost her parents and now she wasn’t sleeping. Viv wanted to comfort the sweet girl while she was in her care.
All kids that came into Viv’s home were precious, and they were all hard to say goodbye to. But Viv stayed strong for them. With this being her first baby, she worried how much more difficult it would be, both emotionally and logistically. She already had a demanding schedule, but she couldn’t turn away this poor orphan who’d just lost both parents.
At the moment, Katie needed more pain reliever for her swollen gums, and Viv was out of nearly everything. Grocery shopping wasn’t high on the priority list right now. Saving kids, helping Jack, trying to get Jack to notice her as more than a friend...would he ever? Her to-do list seemed to grow by the day.
Vivianna reached inside her desk for a pen and a slip of paper. She’d used this particular desk since coming here a year ago. During that time she’d earned the trust of the O’Sheas, and occasionally felt guilty about her act, but she wasn’t naive. She’d heard the rumors around Boston. Anyone who delved into the art or auction world knew who the O’Sheas were. The terms mafia and mob seemed to follow them wherever they went.
Something brushed the top of her hand. Viv jerked back, bent down, but didn’t see anything inside the drawer. If there was a spider in there tickling her skin there wouldn’t be enough antibacterial gel to kill those horrendous germs.
She quickly reached back in for her pen and paper. And once again something brushed the back of her hand.
Viv reached for her cell phone and shone the light inside the drawer, fully expecting to see a family of hairy tarantulas.
When she bent down, she saw a sliver of paper sticking out...from the top of the drawer? Since Viv had used this desk for so long, she had no idea what that could be.
She listened. Laney and the client were still talking. Viv’s desk sat in the corner, away from them, so the coast was clear. Pulling her chair over, she took a seat and bent to examine the underside of the desk. How had she not noticed anything before?
Gripping the paper between her thumb and index finger, she tugged slightly. When it eased out further, she noticed some cursive writing she couldn’t identify. Pulling a bit more, she felt something give. Putting her phone inside the drawer to shine upward, she reached with both hands. The board was loose.
Viv pulled slightly, careful to not make too much noise, but Laney and the client were now laughing. Perfect.
The board was a bit of a struggle, but it came loose. And a small book fell into the drawer.
Viv stared, curious about where it had come from and who’d hidden it in the desk. She quickly grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer and slid the book inside. She’d have to look at it later.
Grocery list forgotten—she could worry about that later—Viv grabbed her things. She belted her wrap coat and quickly hoisted her purse up onto her shoulder as she headed out the back door. The bitter wind cut right through her, but she was anxious to get to her car.
Once she settled into her older model car, Viv turned on her heated seat, locked the doors and pulled the small leather-bound book from her purse.
It didn’t take her long to realize she’d struck gold. The author of this journal was none other than the late Patrick O’Shea. The patriarch of the Boston family Jack was hell-bent on bringing down. The family she’d been infiltrating for a year.
As she skimmed the pages, she knew when she got to Jack’s house he’d devour this thing. She couldn’t wait to get this to him, to show him she was valuable and actually had something concrete they might be able to use.
She flipped another page, then froze as she read the entry. Her blood chilled as each word sank in. There was no skimming this one. In fact, she read it twice to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
Heart in her throat, she knew there was no way Jack could ever see this journal. Everything he’d wanted to bring down the family was here...including the fact that Jack was Patrick’s illegitimate son.
Heels clicked on the hardwood, the echo growing louder as Viv approached. Jack came to his feet and turned toward the entryway of the patio room. He’d had his chef set up dinner out here so they could close all the French doors and have some privacy.
Jack sucked in a breath the second she came into view. The punch of lust to the gut was nothing new, though. More and more, when he saw her, she never failed to have a dramatic impact...an issue he’d have to deal with on his own.
Her pink suit jacket cut in at her narrow waist, the matching skirt fell just above her knee and her black heeled boots showcased just how long those legs truly were.
He’d traveled the world, both in the military and for pleasure, and had seen stunning women all over the globe. But Viv, who managed to embody innocence, class and a touch of sultriness, was one woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.
Jack knew Viv would be gorgeous in anything she wore. That Native American heritage of hers set her apart from nearly every woman he knew. And the fact that she stood out in his mind only added to his guilt. He had to get a grip or he’d mess up their working relationship, and he refused to find another assistant. Viv