Page 23 of The Stranger

“Just checking there aren’t any doors you might be looking to shove me out of.”

“We can do it your way, if you prefer. I’ll call for security and have you escorted from the premises.” Where she likely has a photographer stationed at the gate.

“Make your mind up. Are you buying me off or chucking me out?”

“Take the money. Let’s expedite things because we both know you don’t have anything on me.”

“I suppose that depends on your outlook.”

“Do you think you’re the first girl to try to blackmail me? You aren’t even the first this week.”

“Sounds like you need to keep better company. What’s that saying again?” she ponders, tapping her chin. “If you lie with dogs, expect to wake up with fleas.”

I almost laugh. “On that we agree.”

“And I’m beginning to think your HR team must really hate you.”

“Here’s what I know: you aren’t employed by me.”

“I think a lawyer would have something to say about my signed employment contract.”

“Then you’ll also have signed a watertight NDA.” No matter how useless I think Jacques is right now, I’m confident he would’ve had a pen under her nose the minute she stepped over the threshold.

One slim shoulder lifts and falls. “I wasn’t working for you last night.”

“You have nothing on me. There were no phones and no cameras, and we both know you weren’t wearing a wire.” I allow my gaze to slide suggestively over her. Sadly, not just for effect.

“You really think last night was a setup?” She looks almost entertained by the idea.

“What I’d like to know,” I begin, casually flicking open the folder’s cover, “is how Emmy knew where I’d be.” No one knew I was there that’s night. Not Jacques. Not even my security detail. A name jumps out at me from the documents: Dr Primrose Whittington. Whittington. There’s something familiar about that name. But I don’t dwell.

“You’re really barking up the wrong tree,” she scoffs. “Emmy doesn’t even know I was there. And if you hadn’t kept her here last night, I wouldn’t have been.”

“Forgive me for not believing a word that comes out of your mouth.”

Her gaze narrows. “This has nothing to do with Emmy. In case you’ve had your head up your arse for the last few hours, she’s been far too preoccupied with life-and-death matters to indulge in your so-called blackmail plan.”

“Or maybe that’s just how you both want it to look.”

“Or maybe you’ve had your head up someone else’s arse.” The look she sends me is meant to look provocative. And it does. Just not in the way she thinks. “Listen, the fact that I am here is testament to Em’s dedication to this job and to your children. That’s it. There is no collusion and no blackmail. I’m just a girl doing her best friend a favor because apparently, her employer and his army of staff can’t cope without her.”

A quirk of my brow is my only answer.

“Look, she knows nothing about last night. No one does. Your little indiscretion is safe.”

I smile despite myself—despite the situation. I can’t remember the last time someone stood up to me. I also don’t remember enjoying it quite so much as I find myself standing once more. “I’d hardly call it my indiscretion. You made the first move.”

“And you were the one who shoved me out the door.”

“It was an act of mercy.”

“It was cruel.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” My gaze slides over her sun-reddened shoulders and the dappling of freckles running down her arm. Slim wrists and long legs. Pink painted toenails. Young. Much too young, fuck it. “But had I known I’d be finding myself in this predicament less than twenty-four hours later, I would’ve pushed you out of the door much earlier.”

Liar, my mind whispers.

“You shouldn’t have been in the basement,” I say, stepping closer again. This can’t be a coincidence, yet I’m still to be repulsed by her.