3. One Step Ahead
ONE STEP AHEAD
“What do you think this meeting is about?” Paris asked the next day.
“I don’t know,” London said, her shoulders lifting and lowering. “Why do you think I know if you don’t?”
“Because you’re sleeping with one of the men in the meeting. Jeez, what good are you if you can’t even get that kind of information out of him?”
London wiggled her eyebrows and bumped their shoulders together. “There you go again, being jealous. You’ve never brought my sex life up so much before. Do we need to find you a man?”
“I can find my own man when I want one,” she said primly.
“Then do it.”
“Come on. You’d never do that for an itch and you know it.”
“Nope. And neither would you, but maybe you should reconsider it.”
“I’ll take a hard pass. And let’s go. I don’t want to be late,” she said.
“We won’t be late. It doesn’t take fifteen minutes to go two floors.”
“We don’t know where the elevators are right now.”
“I’m taking the stairs,” London said. “It’s two floors. No reason to take the elevator. Oh, but you’ve got those stilts on your feet. How come?”
Paris looked down at her four-inch pumps. She didn’t normally wear them, but the way Fletcher’s eyes ran over her body yesterday in the elevator, and the chance that she might run into him again, had her reaching for another outfit similar to yesterday’s.
Only this time a little sexier.
Skinny jeans, nude pumps, a mint green silk top. Friday business casual.
No meetings out of the office, no reason to dress up more.
Or to have on these feet-aching shoes unless she was trying to get a man’s attention.
“Because they look good with these jeans,” she said.
“They do. Sexy,” London said. “Why is that?”
“Let’s go,” she said, ignoring her sister. “We’ll be back, Molly. We’re just upstairs.”
Molly nodded. They went to the elevator first, saw it was moving up and only four floors below them, so waited, got on and then off. London held her keycard up to go past the front desk and toward the executive suite and the conference room there.
They were the first ones to arrive and took their seats.
Not even a minute later, Braylon and Spencer came in, then West two minutes later, and shut the door.
“Are we being fired?” London asked.
Paris rolled her eyes. There were times for jokes, but not always.
“Do you think I’d fire you in front of your boyfriend?” West asked.
“Well, if he knew, he didn’t tell me last night. You wouldn’t tell him you were firing me,” London said.
Braylon laughed. “I told Spencer this morning what is going on.”
“Unlike you, I don’t get worked up when I’m asked to come to a meeting,” Spencer said.
“I don’t get worked up. I was just cracking a joke. I’m actually hoping it’s not about another project until we get more staff,” London said.
“So you’re going to add one finally?” Braylon asked.
“Yes,” Paris said. “We need to. Work is great and busy. And if you need us to rearrange things, we will. I’ve got a list of good candidates we’ll be interviewing next week. With any luck we can get at least one hired, but we are looking for two.”
“We might have some good resumes here,” West said. “If you need some.”
“I already got them,” she said. “I’m one step ahead.”
West nodded.
“Suck up,” London said.
“We have another business we need you to look into,” West said. “London and Spencer will fly out next week for a few days once London clears her schedule.”
“Please not Maine again,” London whined. “It’s Paris’s turn.”
“I’ve got some fond memories of Maine,” Spencer said. “I’m hurt.”
“Oh stop, both of you,” Paris said. “It’s gross.”
“Someone might have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed today,” London said. “But I’ll be serious.”
They listened while West talked, Paris ran it through her head and was thrilled her sister was taking the lead on this one, but she’d have to put some work in also. It was how they operated.
“This means I’ll be interviewing alone next week,” Paris said. “Which might be better because London isn’t good at picking people.”
“She picked me,” Spencer said.
“Now who’s being cheesy?” Braylon said.
She loved how they could talk business and joke at the same time.
Only behind closed doors.
Never in a million years would she have thought West would be like this.
But again, it wasn’t as if she was close to him.
And she’d heard enough that meeting Abby had changed him.
Since she saw it with her sister, it had to be true.
“In other news,” West said. “We are down a driver right now.”
“Did someone quit?”
They didn’t use West’s drivers often, but it was a service available to them. She had used it a few times for business, but they were there for after-hours also. Only family members, but she didn’t want to take advantage either.
“Fired,” Braylon said. “That will stay here. He leaked information on when Abby and West were in the Hamptons and some drones got pictures.”
“Oh no,” she said. “Did the pictures get stopped before they could hit the press?”
“Yes,” Braylon said. “That was easy enough. I’ve got enough contacts now they normally give us a heads up.”
Because they probably wanted to be bought to not print something. That was half the income, almost blackmail, but it was part of this world and she was sure West was very familiar with it.
“Thanks for letting us know,” she said.
“I won the bet with how fast Fletcher got the confession,” Braylon boasted.
“You just had to get that in there, didn’t you?” West asked.
“I’m sure it was five minutes,” London said. “All he has to do is stare at someone and they fidget and blurt shit out. The dude is intense.”
London looked at her sister. “What? Yeah, I noticed that. But he’s nice,” Paris argued.
“Nice?” Braylon asked. “When have you talked to him to get nice?”
“I ran into him in the elevator. I mean, he’s not mean or anything. Maybe nice is a stretch.”
“Hmm,” London said.
That sound was worse than words.
“Paris finds the good in everyone,” Spencer said. “Maybe it can wear off on her twin.”
“Nope. She’s her and I’m me. You like me like this.”
“And I’ve got another meeting,” West said. “Have fun.”
West got up and left, Braylon also, then Paris did the same while Spencer and London talked for a minute. “I’ll be out in the hall. You’ve got the keycard. I forgot mine.”
Which they’d need or someone would have to let them in around different areas.
“Are you lost?”
She turned at the sound of that deep drawl of a question.
There he was. Tall. Dark. Handsome.
In black trousers, a silver button-down shirt tucked into his pants, no belt, no need. His clothes were tailored close to his body.
“Nope. Just waiting for my chatty sister who is in with Spencer.”
“You two can’t walk somewhere without the other?”
She plastered a smile on her face. He was talking to her at least. Not smiling, but talking.
Kind of nice.
“She’s got the keycard.”
“Here I thought you were always prepared.”
“Do you know that from your research of me?”
She was only guessing. She figured someone like him would know everything about everyone that he would be in contact with.
“Yep.”
Her jaw dropped. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Sorry,” London said, coming out, looking at the two of them, grinning, and then looping their arms together. “We’ve got work to do. Bye, Fletcher.”
He didn’t say bye, he just nodded his head, not even looking at London, only staring at her.
And she’d caught his glance at her shoes again...so mission accomplished.
“Okay, now I know,” London said the minute they were back in their suite, her twin marching into her office and not giving her a chance to even breathe.
“Know what?”
“Who is working you up.”
“No one is working me up,” she argued.
“Bull. Not only did I notice the way his eyes rolled over your body, but that you were watching him do it and your face flushed. Remember, I’m your twin. I know you better than you know yourself. You wanted to reach out and touch him, didn’t you?”
Ugh. “So?”
London pointed her finger. “Got you. Damn. Of all people to have your eye on. Total opposite of you. And he’s older than us.
He’s got some gray in his hair. He’s got to be in his forties.
West said he was with the FBI for over twenty years.
So let’s say right out of college, that means still early to mid-forties. ”
“I can do math,” she said. “And there is nothing wrong with older men. It’s not like he could be my father.”
“If he’s closer to fifty, maybe. We are thirty-one.”
“I don’t think he is,” she said. “And there is nothing wrong with finding someone attractive.”
“He is pretty hot,” London agreed. “Like aged bourbon. Full-bodied and packed full of heat on the tongue.”
She flushed. She knew she did. There was no way to avoid it.
“I’m going to work.”
“Ask him for a drink,” London urged.
“No. He looks at me and I look at him, but I doubt it’s more than that. It’s like pulling teeth to get him to talk to me.”
“Because you ran into him in the elevator. No one talks in an elevator but you.”
“It was just the two of us. It wasn’t even seven.”
“When?”
“Yesterday morning. I don’t know. He’s like a mystery. You know how I am. I need to find out more. It’s probably nothing more than that.”
“Because you need information to see what makes someone tick. He’s not a project.”
Her sister was right.
“I know.”
“But it feels that way to you. So ask him for a drink. Or lunch. Coffee. Something. You always have ideas in your head, so put it to use for more than work.”
“I’ll think about it.” But she wouldn’t.
Paris was outgoing in her career, but not with men.
“Which is your way of saying you want me to leave your office.”
She gave her sister a shove. “See. You know me well.”
“Stop thinking and just do it,” London yelled over her shoulder.
She shut the door in her sister’s face.
Not because she didn’t want to listen to it anymore, but she had to cool her body down.
Good lord, she didn’t think it was possible to get that worked up over a man’s eyes moving over her body.
But the way those brown orbs of his glided almost felt as if it were his hands touching her.
Crap, she was losing touch with reality.
Her phone buzzed, she jumped, then reached for it.
“Stop thinking,” London said, then hung up again.