Chapter 4
My second day on the job starts without a hitch. I jump back into the gala prep and research the charities that will be featured at the event. Though I look for anything out of the ordinary, I come up empty-handed. The charity side of the company seems squeaky clean.
My frustration grows, but I’m almost relieved that there’s nothing nefarious going on with the charities. I’m starting to think there’s something to Owen’s claim of saving the world on all the morning shows.
It’s something I’d never admit to him or anyone else, though.
Owen is gone most of the morning in meetings. He finally allowed me to access his calendar so I can help him with scheduling. Scanning it, I discover nothing but the usual business meetings. Nothing suspicious.
I’m wondering if there even is any evidence to be found when Owen’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “Time for lunch, Miss Riley. I won’t let my employees starve while on the clock.” He’s leaning casually against the office door, watching me.
“You’re oddly worried about my food intake, Mr. Mills.”
He smirks but doesn’t respond, so I do as he asks, grabbing my proposal for the combined charity event. Maybe I can ask him over lunch what the smaller charities are for since I can’t find anything about them in the company’s system.
“What do you like to eat?” he asks, holding the door open for me.
“I’m not picky.”
“No?” He raises a brow.
“Just because I like to be organized doesn’t mean I’m picky. Or high maintenance,” I add since that’s what most people think when they look at me. “I’m rather easy to please.”
“Is that so?” The amusement hasn’t left his voice.
I roll my eyes, which he catches out of the side of his eye, but doesn’t comment on.
We both wait in silence as the elevator takes us to the first floor. I feel his gaze on me a few times before we step out into the lobby. He lets me lead, following behind, even though I have no idea where we’re going.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Mills. Your car is ready.” An employee occupying the front desk beams at him.
I eye Owen. Why does he want me to call him by his first name when no one else here does?
“Thank you, Miss Auburn,” he says, holding the door open for me, a knowing look in his eyes.
I walk out, my heels clicking loudly on the concrete, and stop in front of an obscenely expensive, red SF90 Stradale Ferrari. I expected he owned expensive cars; he’s a billionaire after all. What I didn’t anticipate was riding in one. I figured he had people who drove him everywhere.
“Do you have something against sports cars, Miss Riley?”
Realizing that I am staring at the car while he holds the passenger door open for me, I quickly compose myself. “Nothing against them. In fact, I quite enjoy driving them.”
He halts me as I attempt to duck into the passenger seat. “Why don’t you drive us to lunch, Miss Riley? That way you can have some fun, and I can learn what you like to eat.”
Is this some sort of test? Seeing whether I’m telling the truth? If it is, two can play this game.
Not hesitating, I walk over to the driver's side, pulling off my heels and throwing them into his lap as he settles himself next to me. He lets out an amused chuckle, clutching my shoes and staring at my bare feet.
I adjust the seat and mirrors. He’s much larger than I am, and everything is programmed to his height. When I’m satisfied, I turn and find him watching me with a look I can’t read.
When his gaze finds mine, he asks, “Where to?”
I smirk, turning my attention back to the road. “You’ll see.”
Driving the short distance to the coast, we make our way north on the winding roads that line the cliffs leading to the ocean.
It’s my favorite drive, and the car easily glides around the tight turns.
Before I know it, my whole body relaxes into the easy feel of the wheel beneath my hands and the road beneath the tires.
“Where’d you learn to drive cars like this?” Owen asks out of the blue.
“My father. He was into fast cars.”
“Was?”
I nod, not wanting to explain. Not wanting to relive what happened. Not needing his pity.
Owen seems to understand and changes the subject. “Where are we going? I’m starting to think you’re kidnapping me.”
I smile deceptively. “Perhaps I am, but if I were, I’m not sure you’d be mad about it.”
Owen raises a brow, a half-smirk on his lips. I can’t read his face, though, and I’m worried I’ve already crossed a boundary on only my second day of work.
I slow the car, turning left into a small, gravel parking lot, suddenly aware he might not want me parking his expensive car in the dirt.
He doesn’t say anything about it, however. Instead, he looks around, his gaze flicking from the restaurant to the scenery around it.
“This is my favorite restaurant in the whole Bay Area,” I explain.
It’s a small place that looks more like a shack than a restaurant, but it overlooks the water, and the seafood is to die for.
“I’ve never even heard of it.” He sounds surprised as he passes me my shoes.
“It’s a locals’ spot. Secret for a reason.”
“And you trust me with this knowledge, Miss Riley? You do know the influence and connections I have.”
I roll my eyes, unable to help myself. “You’re kind of an arrogant ass, aren’t you?”
Clapping a hand over my traitorous mouth, I moan at my true colors beginning to show without my permission. Usually, I don’t have a problem playing the role I’m supposed to and abandoning who I really am. This time, though, it slips easily.
“And you’re not as zipped up as you appear,” he shoots back at me, but the glint in his eye gives away his playfulness.
I put on my heels and step out of the car without answering.
Before I know it, he’s at my side, scanning the small wooden building in front of us.
The blue and white paint is slowly peeling, revealing the graying wood beneath.
There’s no sign hinting at the name of the restaurant, and I don’t offer it as we step through the creaky, wooden door.
I smile as we approach the old, wooden bar inside, its body worn and faded from almost a hundred years of use.
“Jax!” I shout.
He turns, a towel and a bar glass in his hand, and his eyes widen in surprise, as if he’d seen a ghost. A second later, he’s around the other side of the bar, wrapping me in a rough hug that I return in earnest. I missed him while I was overseas, and my heart squeezes at the sight of him.
“Still in one piece, I see,” he comments, stepping back to assess me.
I cringe. Jax knows what I do, even if I can’t ever tell him the details.
Seeing Owen’s eyebrows raise, I immediately explain. “I travel a lot.”
Realization dawns on Jax’s face, and without giving Owen a chance to say anything, I answer Jax. “I’m home, safe and sound. This is my new boss, or possibly my new boss, Owen Mills.”
Jax’s brow furrows. The name must sound familiar to him, but I am relieved when he clearly can’t place it. “Nice to meet you, mate,” he says in his Australian accent, extending a hand to Owen, who assesses him far too intently.
Jax is your quintessential Australian surfer.
He has tanned skin, long blond hair pulled back in a man bun while he works, and he’s wearing a Hawaiian button-up shirt, paired with khaki shorts and flip flops.
Like me, his looks suggest he has little in the way of brains, but also like me, he’s secretly very intelligent.
“Jax is doing research for the marine mammal center along with running this place,” I explain to Owen, who grabs Jax’s hand and squeezes firmly.
“Nice to meet you,” Owen says, and Jax smiles at him before returning his attention to me.
“The usual, Nova?” Jax asks, and suddenly I’m panicking at his use of my real name. A second later, Jax’s eyes widen.
Fortunately, Owen doesn’t seem to notice. With Jax’s accent, it sounds similar enough.
I remind myself to bring up this little complication to Declan and Jax tonight when I get back to my apartment.
I nod. “The usual, except double it.”
Jax eyes Owen for confirmation, and he nods in return.
Leading Owen to my usual table by the window, he slips into the chair across from me. The sky is foggy and gray, and the ocean is calm today. The atmosphere in the dimly-lit restaurant is cozy, and the exhaustion from the last few months hits me without warning.
Owen observes my wide yawn without comment, instead asking the question I knew was coming. “How do you know Jax?” The question is casual, but there’s a hint of something else under his words.
I decide to be truthful since it’s likely that Owen would find out if I’m lying. “I’ve known Jax a long time, actually. He came to the States when he was fourteen, and we went to high school together.”
“High school sweethearts?” he asks, once again far too relaxed.
“No. Despite how badly I wanted him, he just never wanted me back.”
That clearly gets his attention, his eyes widening, and I laugh at his reaction. “Jax is into men, Owen. I’m definitely not his type. But we’ve been best friends ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend to keep the bullies away.”
“What did this pretending entail?”
“You’re shameless, you know? Do you act this way with all your employees?” This gets him to shut his mouth. His brows furrow as if he is thinking seriously about my question.
“No. I suppose you’re right. I’ll behave.” He sounds serious, but I can’t tell if he’s joking.
Jax comes over and sets two clean plates in front of us. We both thank him, and he rushes back to the kitchen. Owen watches Jax’s exit. The look that crosses Owen’s face is different this time, but what unnerves me is how observant he is. Like he sees through the lies and knows what’s real.
“So, I was finishing my proposal to combine the events and came across a few unlabeled charities. I was wondering what those were so I could place them correctly,” I say, shaking the thoughts from my head.
Owen waves a hand at me. “Don’t worry about those. I hold different charity events for the smaller ones. I’ll send you a list of patrons to invite. They don’t need to be featured in the auction.”
That doesn’t help my suspicion or my questions, but I jot down a note on the proposal about acquiring a list of patrons and hand it to Owen.
He scans it, brow furrowed, then looks up at me with a charming smile that I try to ignore. “This looks great, Miss Riley. I give you my permission to go ahead with the plan.”
“That’s it? No other questions?”
“You’re very detailed, Miss Riley. No other questions necessary.”
Jax shows up with our food, placing a bowl in front of me first and then Owen. Owen studies his with amused interest.
“So, Barbie, how’ve you been? And don’t just give me the ‘I’m fine’ speech,” Jax says, which has Owen looking at me with apparent amused interest now.
“Barbie was my nickname in high school,” I explain.
“For obvious reasons.” Jax chuckles.
I huff. “I’m fine, Jax. Got back from Sicily a week ago, and I’m missing the seafood.”
“You mean you’re missing my charming company.”
I smile. “Always.”
Jax hesitates, eyeing the two of us as if worried he’s interrupting. “I’ll leave you to your lunch meeting.”
Without another word, he disappears into the kitchen.
I turn to find Owen staring at me, looking at me as though he can’t quite figure me out.
Doing an undercover job this close to home is going to be far harder than I thought. I’m supposed to be playing a role, but this doesn’t feel like one.
“What?” I ask at his bemused expression.
“I’m beginning to think you have more than one side to you.”
Shrugging, I stuff a large bite of cioppino in my mouth. “Don’t we all?”
With that, he spoons a mouthful, and his eyes widen. He chews slowly, and when he swallows, he looks stunned.
“This is really good,” he says through another bite.
A grin is my only response, and we consume the rest of our meals in silence. The quiet should make me uneasy, but it doesn’t.
After we’re finished, Owen pays, and I ask him to wait for me in the car so I can say goodbye to Jax. He doesn’t argue, shouting a quick “nice to meet you” at Jax before ducking out the door.
“That boss of yours is pretty cute. You sure there isn’t something more going on there? He did take you out to lunch.” Jax wiggles his eyebrows.
“I don’t even officially have the job yet. I can assure you there’s nothing going on.” Not to mention, he’s a murder suspect who I’m supposed to be gathering evidence to convict.
“Be careful there, Nova. He looks dangerous,” he says mischievously.
I know he means a man that attractive can be dangerous, but he has no idea. Attractive and murderous is a bad combination.
“It’s good to see you, Jax. I promise I’ll be around more now that I’m home.”
Jax studies me for a moment. “You better. Also, I know something’s going on with you. You aren’t yourself. I plan on squeezing that info out of you soon. Just a warning.” He comes back around the bar and wraps me in a hug.
I press my cheek against his warm chest, finally allowing my shoulders to slump as my weight presses into him.
“You don’t have to do everything alone, you know,” he whispers into my hair.
I pull back enough to look up into his blue eyes. “I know. I know. We’ll catch up soon. I promise.”
Jax lets me go, and I make it to the door before he shouts, “I’m holding you to that!”
I smile and walk to the passenger side of Owen’s car and ease myself into the dark red, leather seats.
Owen is watching me with another one of his amused expressions.
“Do I have something on my face?” I ask, harsher than I intended.
He smirks. “No.”
With that, he peels out of the parking lot, and we head back to the office. The thought of what I’ll have to do has me feeling a little queasy, and I’m still unsure why.