The Mogul and the Muscle - Claire Kingsley Page 0,9

for taking yet another job when I kept saying each one was the last. This wasn’t even a job, really. It was a favor. Totally different thing.

Granted, the last one had probably been more of a favor, too, considering I’d refused to let her pay me. But she was a college student, it wasn’t like I could have taken her money.

In any case, I was only here to do Derek a solid. And maybe this would earn me some good karma. I could certainly use it.

Since I hadn’t spoken with the client yet—and wasn’t sure about attire—I’d opted for simple. Light gray button-down shirt. Slacks. I’d cuffed the sleeves, showing my tattooed forearms, because this was summer in Miami and it was hot as fuck.

I went inside, grateful to whoever had invented air conditioning. Checked my watch. Derek had said nine-thirty. I was early, but I’d wanted a chance to scope things out.

Uniformed security guards manned the front desk. I was pleased to see they looked alert.

“Can I help you?” one of them asked.

I swiped off my aviators. I’d already memorized the layout of the lobby and identified six things I could use as a weapon if necessary. “I’m here to see Cameron Whitbury.”

“Your name?”

“Jude Ellis.”

The second guard eyed me while the first turned his attention to his computer. A woman in a blouse and slacks walked by, flashing an ID badge. The guard nodded to her.

“Thirty-sixth floor,” the first guard said. “Ask for Brandy.”

I had an appointment, and I’d still have to go through a second layer to get to Cameron. That was good. “Thanks.”

The elevator had stainless steel paneled walls that almost acted as mirrors. The dark carpet looked new. It took me up to the thirty-sixth floor and dinged, the doors opening.

The large Spencer Aeronautics logo was painted on the wall behind an imposing front desk. A receptionist with deep red lipstick and an earpiece watched me walk in.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was one shade shy of annoyed.

“I’m here to see Cameron Whitbury.” I’d been instructed to ask for Brandy, but I wanted to see whether the receptionist would still make me go through another person.

“Do you have an appointment?”

I nodded once. “Jude Ellis.”

“One moment.” She tapped something into the phone on her desk. “I have a Jude Ellis here for Ms. Whitbury.” She paused, then tapped a button on her phone. “Brandy will be out in a minute.”

Brandy again. That was good, but so far, I didn’t see any signs of further security on her floor.

A moment later, a woman came out. Mid-thirties. Blond, hair pulled back. Blouse and pencil skirt with black heels. Probably highly organized, but unlikely to be helpful in a crisis. Too smiley.

“Hi,” she said. “Jude? I’m Brandy, Cameron’s executive assistant.”

I shook her hand. Small. Manicure, no callouses. Good grip, though. “Hi.”

“I’ll take you back.”

I followed Brandy through a doorway next to the reception desk. Without meaning to, I picked out every hiding place and spot for an ambush. I couldn’t help it; my brain just worked that way. I noted the exits, potential hazards, a conference room with a table that could be used for cover if turned over. People glanced at me as I walked by, faces showing expressions of mild curiosity.

Brandy stopped outside a closed door. The windows on either side were frosted glass, offering no view inside the office. She knocked, then opened it and stuck her head inside.

“Have a minute?” After a pause, she looked back and nodded for me to follow.

Cameron Whitbury stood behind her desk, her attention on a file. Thick coppery-red hair hung around her shoulders and her crisp white blouse had two buttons open at the collar. A thin gold chain draped across her throat.

A disconcerting sense of unease made the back of my neck prickle. I shifted my shoulders and turned my head to rub my shirt collar against the back of my neck. What was bothering me in here?

There was a bathroom—door ajar, light off. Large windows showed a sweeping view of the city. Another wall had a framed blueprint of a vintage airplane. Neat desk with a laptop and a few files. Nothing unusual.

But something was off. I could feel it. The sensation intensified when my eyes went back to Cameron.

“This is Jude Ellis,” Brandy said.

Cameron glanced up and smiled. “Oh?”

“Okay, so, let me know if you need anything.” Brandy ducked out of the office and closed the door.

That was odd.

Cameron’s eyes were on the door, her lips

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