gutsy comeback took his breath away, as did her mention of a boyfriend. She acted as if she didn’t really need this job. And maybe she didn’t. Her paycheck was probably a drop in the bucket compared to her trust fund.
Or maybe it was her sugar daddy who paid for those expensive clothes. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“I don’t see how that information is pertinent to my job,” she asked, her tone carefully neutral. No snark. She wanted to please him, but at the same time she wasn’t going to take a whole lot of crap from him.
Good for you, Jillian Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is.
“Some significant others object to an employee’s travel schedule. I’d like to know whether I’m causing any domestic discord.”
“If there is, I’ll deal with it. But thank you for your concern.”
“I was checking up on you,” he admitted. “It only makes sense that I would keep a close eye on you your first few days.”
She thought about that for a moment, then said, “Yes, it does make sense. Thank you for your honesty. I’ll make the travel arrangements as soon as I receive the email.”
Conner’s skin tingled all over as he returned to his office. She definitely turned him on, which was a damned nuisance. What a brilliant move, insisting she accompany him on a business trip when he couldn’t spend two minutes in the same room with her before sporting a hard-on.
Way to go, Blake.
* * *
“SORRY I’M LATE,” JILLIAN said to Celeste, who was waiting for her on the atrium level overlooking the ice skating rink at The Galleria Mall. “The ogre wanted me to type up some notes of his before I went home.”
“The ogre?” Celeste heaved her faux-lizard bag onto her shoulder.
“My new pet name for him. It’s not enough that he has to terrorize me during work hours. Now he’s making me go on a business trip with him.”
“Whoa, Nellie, what’s that about? He’s trying to put the moves on you already?”
Jillian shook her head. “I don’t think it’s that. He’s testing me. Wants to see how much he can abuse me. Apparently that’s part of the job description they didn’t tell me about—a high tolerance for crap. His former assistants couldn’t handle it, but obviously I have to.”
“If you want any pointers, just ask me. You have no idea the kind of shenanigans I had to endure early in my career. Hateful stuff. The kind of sexist hazing that would get you thrown in jail nowadays.”
“I’m not sure this is sexist.” Jillian watched the handful of skaters buzzing around the ice—the little princesses with their flirty skirts, the gangs of boys racing and cutting up. “He’s trying to prove he’s the alpha, I think.”
“The alpha can mate with any female in the pack,” Celeste pointed out, which didn’t put Jillian at ease. “So what do you need my help with? I’m the shopping queen, but surely you’re at least a princess at it yourself. You’re the best-dressed person I know besides moi.”
Jillian tried to take that as a compliment. Today Celeste wore an ankle-length skirt with frogs printed all over it, a fluorescent orange tank top and a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped out. She’d tied her hair up in a hot-pink zebra-stripe scarf. Her dangle earrings were papier-mâché frogs, which at least matched the skirt in theme if not color.
“I need to buy hiking clothes. And boots. And a digital camera.”
“Ah, I know just the place.”
Celeste dragged her to Cliffs, an upscale sporting goods store, where Jillian purchased two pair of sturdy, canvas pants with lots of pockets, two long-sleeved cotton shirts, thick socks, hiking boots, a wide-brimmed hat, work gloves and a backpack. She also grabbed a handheld GPS, bug repellant, sunscreen, lip balm, a water bottle, granola bars and waterproof matches.
“Matches?” Celeste put her hands on her bony hips. “Oh, come on. Throw in a tent and sleeping bag, and you could hike across the whole country.”
“I don’t want to be caught unprepared. What about this snakebite kit?”
Celeste just gave her a look.
“Well, there are snakes in the woods.” She spotted some machetes hanging on the wall. “Do you think I need one of these, to cut through the brush?”
Celeste walked closer to the display, then tested a machete blade with her thumb. “Sharp. I wonder if this is like the one Leo Simonetti used to cut off his victims’ heads. Remember that case?”
“On second thought, maybe it’s not a good idea for me to be alone in the woods with an infuriating man and sharp objects.” Jillian gathered up her purchases and took her place in the checkout line.
“So, have you made any progress? Finding the real killer, I mean.”
“Well…one of the security guards suspects my boss.”
Celeste’s plucked eyebrows flew up and almost met her hairline. “Your boss? Hot diggity! If he did it, then the evidence must be in his office or his computer, his phone, or his correspondence—he left a trail, they always do. Does he seem…secretive?”
“Yes, actually. He nearly blew a gasket when I cleaned up my own office. He told me he doesn’t want me to touch his papers or his computer without his express permission.”
“Honey, I think you’re on to something.” Celeste thought for a moment, then suddenly gasped. “Maybe you already saw the incriminating evidence but don’t know enough yet to recognize it. If he suspects you’re on to him…maybe he’s going to take you into the woods and make you disappear.”
Jillian almost regretted confiding in Celeste. “I don’t think that’s the case,” she said.
“Just make sure someone else in the company knows where you’ll be—and who you’ll be with. Oh, and I brought you some more gear to help you with your spying.”
“I’m not supposed to be spying.”
“Do you want to get ahead or not? If you do, you have to take some initiative.”
A few minutes later—and with her wallet several hundred dollars lighter—Jillian was seated across from Celeste at a mall café eating a chicken Caesar salad. Celeste, impatient to show off her “gear,” started emptying her gargantuan purse. She hauled out a wad of wires and laid it on the table. “To record telephone calls.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
Celeste slid her gaze away guiltily. “Okay, how about this?” She pulled out a rather clunky-looking pair of sunglasses. “There’s a video camera in the earpiece. Records up to thirty minutes of video on this tiny flash card. You can pop it right into your computer for viewing.”
“Celeste, where do you get all this stuff?”
“Mostly The Spy Store. Sometimes I order it from the back of Soldier of Fortune Magazine. They have the weird stuff.”
“I don’t want to record phone calls,” Jillian said. “That’s wiretapping, and it’s a felony.” Daniel would have her head if she went against his orders and broke the law.
“Even to bring a murderer to justice? Honey, do you want to be stuck filing and making coffee forever? Because that’s what happens to women in this field unless they go out on a limb. You have to be smarter, stronger, faster and lots more clever than the men just to break even.”
Jillian knew what Celeste had said was at least partly true, even in this day and age. She considered Daniel enlightened, not particularly sexist, yet Project Justice itself was clothed in an air of macho that favored brawn over brains and subtlety. Even her professors at the junior college where she took her criminal justice classes didn’t take her seriously because