Chapter 4
Quentin
I'd dreamed about Julia Russell.
Not vague, easily-dismissed dreams. Specific ones. Her laugh. The way her eyes lit up talking about that horse race. The flush across her cheeks when I'd held her gaze too long.
This was a problem.
Stone knocked once and entered my office. "Got the background reports."
"That was fast."
"Forrest worked over the weekend." He dropped three manila folders on my desk, then lowered himself into the chair across from me. "We need to talk."
"About?"
"About the fact that you've already decided to hire Julia Russell."
I opened the first folder—Lori Johnson. Gave it more attention than it deserved to avoid Stone's knowing look. "I haven't decided anything."
"Boss, I've known you eight years. You've decided."
He wasn't wrong. But I wasn't ready to admit it.
"What did Forrest find?"
Stone tapped on the folder. "Lori Johnson checks out but feels wrong. Last company listed was a Detroit manufacturing plant owned by Matteo Caruso. She left under suspicious circumstances which highly suggests a payout.”
I opened the next folder holding Susan Chambers’ information. “What about her?”
“The last company she worked for was in Miami, before that Cleveland. Both connected to that trucking scandal a few years back."
"The shootout in Atlanta?"
"Midtown. DEA, local police, blood everywhere. Not the kind of employee we want connected to us."
"Agreed. That puts her out of the running as far as I’m concerned. That leaves Julia Russell."
"Exactly. She’s clean. Too clean, maybe." He tapped the folder. "Good schools. Employment history checks out. Grew up in New York."
"Then what’s the problem?"
"She's from New York, and Big Sal Russo just got murdered. Carlo Russo isn't returning your calls. That timing makes me nervous."
"New York has eight million people, Stone."
"And one very pissed off crime family that might think you killed their father."
He had a point. The Russo situation was deteriorating fast. Carlo's silence was deafening. I’d only met him once, but since becoming the don, he wasn’t returning my messages requesting a meet. That was a bad sign.
"You think they'd send someone through The Agency?"
"I think when a don gets killed, everyone's suspect until proven otherwise." Stone leaned forward. "Including us. And if they're looking for revenge—"
"They'd need someone on the inside." I finished his thought, hating that it made sense. "But The Agency vets everyone."
"The Agency's good. Not perfect."
I studied Julia's file. Education, employment, references. Everything checked out. Except for one thing. "The name bothers you."
Stone nodded. "Russell. She's clearly Italian, no marriage records anywhere. Could be a family that anglicized generations ago. Could be an alias."
"You're reaching."
"I'm being cautious. There's a difference."
I closed the folder. Looked at Stone. "What's your recommendation?"
"Don't hire her."
"Based on what? Timing? Geography? A hunch?"
"Based on the fact that you can't be objective about her." His intense gaze met mine. "You like her. That makes you vulnerable."
"I can be professional."
"Can you? Because you walked her to her car. You rode the elevator down with a job candidate and escorted her to her vehicle. When's the last time you did that?"
My lips twisted. "Never."
"Exactly. You're compromised."
The word stung because it was accurate.
"She's qualified," I began. "If Forrest's check comes back clean, if there are no connections to enemies, no red flags—"
"There's one giant red flag: you want to hire her because you're attracted to her, not because she's the best candidate."
"She is the best candidate."
"Lori's more experienced. You dismissed her in five minutes."
"Because she was arrogant."
"Because she wasn't Julia."
Silence stretched between us.
I'd hired Stone eight years ago specifically because he'd challenge me. Tell me hard truths. Keep me from making stupid mistakes.
This felt like one of those moments.
I spread my hands. "What do you want me to do?"
"Another round of interviews. Both candidates. Go deeper, ask harder questions. And before anyone gets hired, we polygraph them."
"A polygraph?"
"Standard for this level of access. You know that." Stone's expression softened slightly. "Look, I get it. She's attractive, intelligent, passionate. But if the Russos are looking for revenge and she's their plant—"
"She's not."
"You don't know that."
"My gut says she's not."
"Your gut or something lower?" At my glare, Stone held up his hands. "I'm trying to keep you alive. That's my job."
He was right. I knew he was right.
"Okay. Run deeper checks. Triple-check everything. Another round of interviews."
"And the polygraph?"
"Fine. Anyone we're seriously considering gets polygraphed."
"Including Julia?"
"Especially Julia." I met his gaze. "If she's clean, I'm hiring her. But we do this right."
Stone gathered the folders, stood. Paused at the door. "You know what worries me most?"
"What?"
"Even if she passes every check, even if Forrest finds nothing, even if she's exactly who she claims to be—she's still a distraction. You're about to expand into new territory. You need focus. She's going to be a problem."
"Maybe."
"Not maybe. Definitely." He studied me. "And you're going to hire her anyway, aren't you?"
I should say no. Should tell him I'd be objective, rational, smart.
"Probably," I admitted.
Stone shook his head. "At least you're honest." He opened the door, before looking over his shoulder. "For what it's worth? I hope I'm wrong about her. I hope she's exactly who she seems. Because if she's not—"
"I know. Concrete shoes. Sleeping with the fishes. All the clichés."
"I was going to say 'heartbreak,' but sure, death works too."
He left.
I sat at my desk, staring at Julia's folder.
Stone was right. I was compromised. Making decisions based on attraction instead of logic.
But something about Julia felt... right. Beyond the physical attraction, beyond the way she made me laugh. Lately I’d been bored with life. Even planning the expansion deal with Big Sal hadn’t been enough to fill the void.
But Julia had been genuine talking about that horse race. Passionate, alive, real. There was also something mysterious about her. She interested me in a way no one had in a long time.
Either she was exactly who she claimed, or she was the best actress I'd ever met.
I pulled out my phone, texted Stone: Schedule second interviews for this week.
His response came immediately: Already done. Thursday.
Of course he had.
I opened Julia's file again. Studied her photo.
"Who are you really?" I murmured.
Only one way to find out.
And maybe—just maybe—Stone's paranoia was exactly that. Paranoia.
Or maybe I was about to make a big mistake.
Time would tell.