“I heard you had to work through your lunch break,” he says, leaning his back on the shelving I am resting on.
“Yeah. I think Alex is more watchful than either of us perceived.” I run the cuff of my blouse under my eyes to ensure I don’t have raccoon eyes from my mascara running down my face.
Once the smears of mascara are on the sleeve of my white blouse, Brandon asks, “Why are you crying?” His genuine concern is shown on his adorable face.
I hand him the photo I’m clutching in my shaking right hand. “Ophelia Whitney Petretti was only nineteen years old when the car she was driving was struck by a B-double truck that veered onto the wrong side of the road. She was killed on impact,” I answer.
Brandon's eyes snap down to the photo I found of Ophelia in Col Petretti's file. Ophelia was beautiful. In the picture Brandon is holding, she has light brown wavy shoulder-length hair with some caramel highlights. Her dazzling brown eyes are so light in color, they're nearly transparent. She is smiling, even with the tip of her pointed-up nose red from a sprinkling of snow landing on it.
A smile curves on my lips when Brandon places his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close to his side, offering quiet comfort. “I read the police report on her accident over the weekend. It is always sad when you hear of any life being taken too soon.” He sounds hesitant even with him offering me comfort. I guess it’s hard for him to understand the reason for my tears.
I’m genuinely upset that Ophelia’s life was cut short at such a young age. Just from her photo, I can tell she was a wonderful person, but my tears aren’t for her; they’re for Isaac. Once I dove into more of Col’s file, I discovered several handwritten notes my Uncle had scribbled on napkins from a diner called Bucks. Ophelia was a waitress at Bucks Diner for a little over a year before she was involved in the accident.
All the handwritten notes were about Ophelia and a young man he had spotted her with numerous times over a three-month period. From the timeline of the napkins and some more detailed reports, it appears Isaac and Ophelia were an official couple for nearly six months before she passed away.
I hesitantly hand Brandon the second photo I’m clutching. It is a picture of Isaac and Ophelia together. It is time stamped a few hours before she was killed in the traffic incident. Isaac is wrapping a scarf around her neck. He is grinning a smile I’ve never seen on his face before, and his beautiful, entrancing eyes are staring into hers. You can see nothing but love and admiration all over his face.
Brandon’s eyes drop to absorb the photo before lifting to mine. “Isaac and Ophelia were a couple?”
His eyes sparkle with excitement when I nod. “Izzy, you have to tell Alex you've unearthed the connection between Isaac and Col Petretti.” His voice is laced with euphoria. “This will get you off coffee and filing duties in an instant.”
Brandon jumps up off the worn carpet, excitement beaming from him in invisible waves. I accept the hand he thrusts out in front of me. His sharp yank on my arm pulls me off the ground and has me crashing into his firm chest. My breasts squash up against his well-defined pectoral muscles.Brandon is a lot harder under his clothes than I’d initially perceived.
Grimacing, I step backward and run my hand down my blouse to ensure it didn't rise to an absurd level during Brandon's eager lift. When I raise my gaze, I'm confronted with Brandon's flushed face.Obviously, I’m not the only one who noticed our inappropriate closeness.With a hesitant smile, I turn my attention back to scanning the documents into the old copier.
"I don't have time to type up a whole report on their relationship.” My eyes roll at my dim excuse. "This scanning will take me months as it is."
I turn back around to face Brandon, who is eyeing me curiously. "You spent your whole weekend going through Col's file. Eventually, you would have discovered these photos yourself.” I return Brandon's confused stare. "If you're willing to type up the report, I'll let Alex believe you discovered the photos."
“I don’t want to take your credit, Izzy.” His voice has gained an edge of anxiousness to it.
"You're not taking my credit, Brandon," I interrupt. "You're helping me out. I'm snowed under here." I gesture to the mountain load of papers I still have left to scan. "This isn't even a small dent in the boxes left in the conference room."
Brandon remains quiet as his concerned eyes shift between mine. After what feels like a lifetime, but is more like minutes, Brandon agrees to compile the report to present to Alex. “But you’ll get the credit for finding the connection between Isaac and Col,” he says before walking out of the supply closet.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I run the back of my palm over my sweat-drenched neck. This leading a double life business is a lot harder than I originally anticipated. My heart is pounding just from sharing one snippet of Isaac’s personal life. Although I feel guilty, either way, this secret would have been unearthed eventually. If it weren't by me, Brandon would have found it.
Once my erratic heart rate is back under control, I scarf down the sandwich and OJ Brandon brought me before recommencing with the scanning. I’m famished since my breakfast was burned off during my impromptu romp in the bathroom with Isaac this morning.
A short time later, Brandon's head pops back into the room. “Your phone has been vibrating nonstop on your desk the past thirty minutes,” he tells me apprehensively.
My lip drops into a frown.I don’t know who would be contacting me with such urgency.I mumble a quick thanks to Brandon before scooting past him to make my way to my desk. The muscles in my body creak with each step I take. I’ve spent the last nearly five hours crammed in that small office, and my body is screaming in protest.
“Holy crap.” There are over a dozen missed calls and text messages from an unknown number and a handful of messages from Harlow.
My brows tack closer with every message I read.
Unknown number:Isabelle, I’ll meet you at Harlow’s bakery at one PM sharp.
Unknown number:Isabelle, where are you?
Harlow:Did you know Isaac was meeting you here for lunch today?
Harlow:Jesus Izzy, Isaac’s veins in his neck are about to burst.
Unknown number:I’ve been waiting for nearly an hour.
Harlow:Will you hurry up; Isaac is scaring my customers away ;)
