still hasn’t taken his hands off me, and I can feel myself evaporating a little bit. I’m searching his eyes, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.
“Yeah, I think I’m done with the day. I’ve made some progress. I’ll be happy to discuss it with you soon.”
“I don’t need to hear every detail. Fill me in when you actually have something conclusive,” he says snappily and releases me. I’m just starting to notice that when Reed speaks about this issue—about his parents and the job I’m doing—he always clams up.
All this while, I was under the impression that he’s pretty well-adjusted and carefree for someone who grew up in the system. But maybe he just hides it well. Maybe it keeps him up at night.
“Okay, sure, yeah, I won’t complicate it for you,” I say.
He steps past me into the foyer.
“Do you have to leave now? Can you stay awhile?”
When I look at him, I see a change in his expression. Somehow, he’s rawer. Not as harsh or self-confident. There’s a sudden vulnerability to Reed that I didn’t know existed.
“No, I don’t have to leave now. I can stay.” I turn to him fully, holding my hands together nervously. He nods and walks inside. I don’t know what else to do but follow him.
We are making our way to his living room. In there, he heads straight to his fancy bar. I can see him pouring himself a drink and loosening his tie.
“I take it you don’t want one?” he asks.
“No, I’m okay. I don’t really drink.”
He nods and looks up at me. His eyes look tired, and I want to ask him if he’s been sleeping much lately. But why should I care? It’s not my problem.
“I hope you’re comfortable here, Ella, with this job, in my house and in this environment.”
“Yes, of course. I’m interested in this work. Your home is lovely and Tom and Missy are great people to have around.”
“Tom is never usually this friendly. I always thought he has some kind of social anxiety, but it seems like you guys have hit it off.”
“He’s sweet and helpful, maybe a bit shy at first.”
“But you brought him out of his shell.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, blushing a little.
Reed’s eyes are on me. He sips his drink. One hand in his pocket.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I just didn’t expect to see you in my bedroom.”
“No, please don’t apologize, I was the one who was being nosy. I shouldn’t have been there.”
“I know we have to keep things professional between us, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of your presence here, just because of our history.”
I’m watching him speak. I’m staring at him because he’s so darn sexy. I can feel it rising inside me again; my unquenchable need to have him. It’s new to me, and I don’t know how to deal with it.
“I don’t think you’re taking advantage in any way. I like working here.”
Reed holds my gaze firmly, almost daring me to look away. He clenches his jaw like he’s about to say something difficult.
“Go ahead, tell me what you’ve found out so far.”
I’m sitting on his couch. Reed is pouring himself another drink. I can feel my throat has gone dry, and I wish I’d asked him for a drink, but I don’t think I should. I need to keep my wits about myself. He’s serious about this. He really wants to go there.
I watch as he walks over to the couch, another glass of whisky in his hand.
“I’m all ears,” he says, and there’s a dry smile on his face as he takes a sip. I get the feeling that he’s decided he needs a drink to hear this. Will he admit how difficult it is for him?
“Honestly, I haven’t found out a whole lot. Just points I need to look into. Maybe we can discuss it some other time. In a few days when I know more.” I know he can hear the nerves in my voice.
He clenches his jaw again, glaring at me.
“I can see there’s something on your mind.”
“No, really, there’s nothing.”
“Ella, I’m your employer. I am well within my rights to know every aspect of this investigation.”
I gulp, keeping my mouth firmly pressed together.
“I’m following a line of questions I have regarding the actual…the actual death of your parents.”