Chapter 13 Bullet #2
If Richard Jenkins was embezzling funds and potentially setting up others to take the fall, Morgan could be in danger—professionally, if not physically. Archer needed to know she was safe while he figured out how to handle the situation.
After watching her arrive with her friends, he had kept himself busy with emails as he kept an eye on anyone entering or leaving the shop.
A few hours later, Morgan emerged with the three other women she’d arrived with, all laughing.
Morgan looked beautiful—relaxed, carefree, her smile genuine in a way that made his chest tighten.
One of the women—tall, with a chin-length bob that swung as she gestured animatedly—must be Tessa, based on Morgan’s descriptions.
She seemed to be telling a story that had the others in stitches.
Morgan’s head tilted back in laughter, exposing the elegant line of her throat, and Archer found himself transfixed by the sight as he tracked her progress down the sidewalk.
He was getting ready to pull out to follow them, when the women turned into a wine bar just two doors down, arm in arm, still chatting.
Archer kept the car in park, feeling both protective and intrusive.
This was a side of Morgan’s life he wasn’t part of—the easy friendship, the weekly traditions, the normal existence that didn’t involve blindfolds or hidden identities.
For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine joining them—walking into that wine bar as just Archer, a regular man dating Morgan, meeting her friends without secrets or complications. The fantasy was so appealing it physically hurt.
Reality, however, was far more complex. The Tokyo call in less than two hours. The fraud investigation threatening Morgan’s workplace. The barriers he’d constructed between his identities that now felt like prison walls.
Archer kept watch while simultaneously working until the women emerged from the wine bar at 8:30 PM. They hugged goodbye at the corner, separating in different directions. Morgan headed toward the bus stop, her oversized purse an obvious weight on her shoulder.
He frowned. Bus? At this hour? Without thinking, Archer started the car, preparing to follow at a discreet distance to ensure she got home safely.
His phone rang—the Tokyo team calling early to prepare for their discussion. Archer hesitated, torn between answering and focusing solely on Morgan.
With a muttered curse, he accepted the call while keeping Morgan in his sights.
“Sullivan,” he answered crisply.
“Mr. Sullivan, this is Tanaka. We’re having some issues with the documentation you sent earlier. Could you clarify a few points before the full team joins?”
Archer divided his attention between the technical questions and Morgan’s progress toward the bus stop just a block over. She had reached it now, well within his sights, setting her purse beside her on the bench as she checked her phone.
“The encryption protocols are outlined in section four,” Archer explained, watching as Morgan smiled at something on her screen. What had caught her attention and made her smile like that?
The bus arrived, and Morgan boarded, disappearing from view. Archer made a quick decision.
“Mr. Tanaka, something urgent has come up. Can we postpone for thirty minutes?”
The Japanese executive sounded surprised but agreed.
Archer zipped out of his parking spot and before he could exit the garage, he quickly fed his ticket into the machine so he could pay for the nearly four hours of parking.
It was blessedly fast to make the payment only for the machine to slowly print out the world’s most redundant receipt before raising the bar to let him leave.
He threw the now crushed receipt into his middle console before dropping the lid shut and pulling into the evening traffic, following the bus at a discreet distance.
The route would take about twenty minutes to reach Morgan's neighborhood. His phone buzzed against the console—Marcus's name flashing on the screen. He considered letting it go to voicemail, his attention focused on the bus carrying Morgan, but duty won out as it usually did.
"Sullivan," he answered, keeping one hand on the wheel as he maintained a safe distance behind the bus.
"Sorry to call so late, I was expecting to leave a message since I figured you’d be getting ready for your call with Tokyo" Marcus said, though his voice lacked genuine apology. "I've been reviewing the latest on Vertex Creative. Thought you'd want an update."
"Go ahead," Archer replied, slowing as the bus approached a stop, watching to ensure Morgan didn't exit.
"The irregularities run deeper than our initial assessment.
It seems someone has been quite creative with the books, though not creative enough to hide it from a proper audit.
" There was a pause, then, "It's curious that you flagged this particular employee—Morgan Reeves—for special attention.
Forensic accounting is my domain, Archer.
You don't need to be this involved in the details. "
The subtle challenge in Marcus's tone wasn't lost on Archer as he accelerated slightly, maintaining his position behind the bus as it pulled away from the stop. "I have my reasons."
"Yes, I'm sure you do." Another pause. "I can personally handle all the sensitive aspects of this acquisition. Including any... personnel issues that might arise during the potential integration."
"That won't be necessary," Archer said, more sharply than intended, taking a turn to follow the bus down a commercial street. "I want to be kept fully informed on this one."
"Of course," Marcus replied, his tone modulated to careful neutrality. "It's just unusual for you to focus on clearing one specific employee. Is there something about Ms. Reeves I should know?"
Archer tensed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Just make sure we have all the evidence properly documented before Thursday's meeting. I want a complete picture of who's responsible and who's being set up to take the fall."
"Already on it," Marcus assured him. "Though I have to say, this acquisition is becoming more complex than anticipated. We should walk away, find a different company with less complications."
"No," Archer said firmly, watching as the bus approached Morgan's stop. "We proceed as planned."
He ended the call just as he saw Morgan exit the bus at her stop. He parked on the street nearby, his attention now fully on ensuring she reached her apartment safely.
Only once she was safely inside, the security door closing behind her, did Archer finally relax.
As he prepared his notes for the Tokyo meeting, his phone chimed with a text.
Just scheduled my test for tomorrow at 5:30. Results will probably be ready by Friday. Still on for tomorrow night?
Archer considered this. He’d received his results that afternoon—all negative, as expected. He typed back: Got my results today. All clear. And yes, definitely still on for tomorrow.
Her response came quickly: Good to hear! I’m not worried about mine, I’ve never gone without protection, but we should still be careful until I get my results in.
We’ll manage, he replied. I’m very creative.
I’ve noticed. She texted back, and he could almost hear the smile in her words. Especially with that tongue ring.
Archer felt heat rush through him at her boldness. Just wait until you see what else I can do with it.
Promises, promises. Can’t wait for tomorrow. Goodnight, Archer.
Goodnight, Morgan. Dream of me.
As he switched phones and prepared for his Tokyo call, Archer tried to refocus on business. But his mind kept returning to Morgan—her smile as she left the pottery class, her safety in a city that suddenly seemed full of potential threats.
And beneath it all, the growing certainty that he was falling for her—falling in a way that would make maintaining his separate identities utterly impossible.