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He gets to the end of the staircase and turns, his eyes wide.
“That’s this woman? Leanne?”
I nod, and his mouth drops open.
He blinks as he moves, letting me pass with my keys.
“I don’t get it,” he admits. “Why would a Beta who almost died make good bait? Who is E.A. going after this time?”
“Who has he been going after forever?” I ask.
“Harlan West,” he says, without a second of hesitation. “I still don’t get it.”
“Well, you will.”
But, first, I need to make sure E.A. knows he’s gone too far this time.
He’s not doing this. I won’t let him.
Chapter Fifteen
E.A.
All of my plans are aligning perfectly, and that is why I know I made a mistake. Everything is looking too good. I let something slip, and I understand what that something is the moment Spencer storms into my office, breaking my concentration and souring my mood with his angry face.
I see Echo behind him, and I curse my need to focus on my plans last night.
Our Omega must have told the boy scout about Leanne Leto.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.
I raise my eyebrows and sit back in my chair. “Drinking coffee and looking over casefiles in my office, as usual. I don’t know what you think you’re doing barging in here, interrupting me.”
He scowls and closes the door with a sharp bang, leaving Echo in the reception area where he’ll no doubt eavesdrop on our conversation anyway.
“You’re not using that poor woman as bait.”
As usual, it is a moral protest he has come to launch. He’s so predictable.
“I intend to be upfront with her,” I tell him, making his jaw drop. “She’s interested in working in our field, and I need a way in to Anchor West. It’s a fair trade and something of an audition for her.”
“Are you shitting me?” he sounds unreasonably angry. “She’s barely had time to recover from what happened to her. This is sick. You can’t do this. I won’t let you.”
I let out a sigh. “She won’t be in any danger. She’s already been offered a job at Anchor West, and she will only need to attend for a few days in order to dig up the evidence we need to nail Harlan West to the wall.”
“Bullshit,” Spencer growls. “It’s not safe. It doesn’t matter how well you’ve planned it. Undercover jobs always get complicated. You can’t ask her to do this.”
“It’s miraculous to me that this woman applied for work both here and there. It feels very much like fate, does it not?” I ask, knowing that my friend puts a lot of his faith in things that are destined.
He shakes his head. “No. It doesn’t. It feels like a woman who desperately needs a job is being dangled in front of a shark.”
Ah, Spencer and his melodramatic metaphors.
I enjoy the imagery this one provides, but it does nothing to change my mind.
“I can’t force this woman to take my offer,” I remind him. “I can only present it to her.”
He scowls at me. “Fuck that. I’m sitting in on the interview.”
