Hard Rules - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,46

I hatched yesterday morning works.

I’ve just finished cup number one when the doorbell rings. I’m about to stand when the door opens and I hear Jessica call out, “I let myself in. I hope you’re decent.” She doesn’t wait to find out, because of course she knows I am. She rounds the corner in a one-piece black suit dress, running her fingers through her spiky blond hair, and stops on the other side of the island.

“The deal memo,” she says, setting an envelope down. “He wants you to call him within the hour.” She snorts. “Like bossing you around ever works. I really love that about you by the way.” She eyes the coffeepot. “Why yes, boss, I would like a cup of coffee.”

“Help yourself,” I say, but she’s already headed for the pot, and aside from filling her own cup, she refills mine.

“Do you actually have creamer?”

“Cabinet above the pot,” I say, my phone buzzing with a text where it lies next to my computer. I grab it and glance at the message from Seth. Your father leased room 751 for six months. Confirming, but I do believe the “other” woman is living there.

I set the phone down, precisely, slowly, reining in the anger burning through me, and not quite sure if it’s more directed at my mother or my father.

“Do you want your twenty or so messages now or never?” Jessica asks, appearing in front of me.

“If never is actually an option, then you can handle them.”

“I already did. I just wanted you to remember how efficient I am.” She sits down in front of me. “In case you leave and I need a reference.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Correction. I’m leaving this apartment. If you do your job. Get in touch with my realtor and find me a house.”

She blanches. “You want me to find you a house?” She holds up her hands. “I mean that’s good. It’s job security for me, but Shane. A house is a big thing.”

“Narrow it to the top three.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but says, “Fine. Okay. Any specifics?”

“Close to here.”

“Apartment?”

I think of my apartment in New York. “House.” Then I think of convenience. “Apartment. Just not in the Four Seasons.”

“Price range?”

“Whatever it takes to be in something comparable to what I’m in now.”

“What about Cherry Creek? It’s ten minutes away and it has gyms, food, and shopping. There are new high-rises going up, but the house prices are on the rise too. In other words, if you buy now, you’re going to have great resale potential.”

“Cherry Creek works. Top three, Jessica.”

“All right then. Top three it is.”

“Soon.”

She gives me a curious look. “Of course.” She sips from her cup. “I should get back. I’m one of the only people who’ll stand up to your father.”

“Before you go.” I close the folder and hand it to her. “Inside you’ll find two executives and two scientists I’ve shortlisted for BP. None of them is local. I’ve put calls into each of them and flagged the ones I spoke with. They’ll be e-mailing you official résumés, but I don’t want them run through human resources. Talk to their references and work with Seth, and his private security team, to look into their backgrounds.”

“Operation ‘keep your family from screwing up a good thing before it happens.’ Check.” She runs her fingers through her spiky blond hair again and randomly changes the topic, feeding me information she believes is of interest. “Your brother hasn’t been in today.”

“Good for everyone dealing with my father. Like you.”

“Message received. Go back to the office.” She stands and rounds the counter to set her cup in the sink before leaving without another word. I like that about her. She gets when to talk and when to just not.

I reach for the envelope holding the deal memo that caused so much hoopla, pulling it out. It takes me all of two minutes to know this isn’t about bending him over. It’s an investment in a nonsense business that has to be a bribe of some sort. Considering this new business is located in Boulder, where our trucking division is, it’s a good bet it’s related to that. I don’t even want to know what that means about what is going on there. I’ve had enough of this crap to last a lifetime. I text Jessica. Find out if there was, or is, a Nina Thompson working for the trucking division in Boulder.

I don’t wait for her reply, dialing Seth.

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