Ben looked at her. Auburn hair in the pine-filtered light. Brown-gold eyes bright with purpose and possibility and the particular stubbornness of a woman who had spent her life being underestimated and had turned it into fuel. She was imperfect and fierce and kind and brave, and she was asking him to leap.
He thought about the company he'd lost. The career he was rebuilding. The future that stretched ahead without a spreadsheet, a business plan, or a five-year projection. He didn't know what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. That question was still open, still unanswered, still sitting on his desk like an unsigned contract.
But he knew who he wanted to spend it with. That question had been answered in a parking lot under a floodlight, and every moment since had confirmed it.
All he'd had to do was take the chance.
A few weeks later…
“Diana, I have a question about these budget numbers for next quarter. Do you have a minute?” Brianna Wright asked, poking her head around the corner of the accountant’s office.
She was still on her first cup of coffee, so that might explain it, but these numbers didn’t look quite right to her. She hadn’t been running the investigations firm for years and years like her dad and uncles, but in the short time since she’d taken over, she’d found that she had a head for business and numbers.
Who knew? She sure hadn’t. It was as much of a surprise to her as it was to her friends and family. Of course, her parents had always believed in Brianna’s abilities; they’d put her in charge of their thriving business, after all. But she had a funny feeling they hadn’t expected her to do so well, so quickly.
“I’ve got time,” Diana said, looking up from her laptop. “What’s up?”
Stepping into the small office, Brianna held out a spreadsheet she’d printed off earlier for review.
“There are a few open cases missing from the budget. The Whitaker case is gone, the Templeton case, and the Bryson case.”
Her dad and uncles kept an eye on the two remaining Bryson daughters. They had for years. Just in case. So far, neither of them had decided to follow in their father and brother’s murderous footsteps, thankfully.
But you can’t be too careful.
That was Brianna’s motto, anyway.
“Jason had me remove the Templeton case,” Diana replied. “A few days ago, I think. Whitaker was pulled yesterday perReed’s instructions. Those investigations are being ended and closed.”
It happened from time to time. If an investigation wasn’t making progress, the client would end it. Business as usual.
“And the Bryson?” Brianna pressed. “That’s an evergreen case. It’s been on the budget forever.”
Diana cleared her throat and looked down at her desk, fidgeting in her chair. Brianna wasn’t an expert in body language like a few of the employees here, but she was pretty sure that the question made her co-worker uncomfortable.
Very uncomfortable. Which raised a whole set of new questions.
“I was told to remove it.”
“By whom?”
This time, Diana did look Brianna in the eye, almost defiantly.
“Your father asked me to.”
“I see,” Brianna replied carefully, keeping her expression as neutral as possible. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll discuss this with him.”
It was no secret at the firm that Brianna had been taken hostage by the Bryson son, Jake, as bait so he could kill her father, Logan Wright. The younger Bryson had wanted revenge for his own father’s death.
He was now sitting in prison for life, cultivating the groupies that had followed Wade Bryson, and getting love letters from women who thought he was handsome and simply misunderstood.
It made Brianna sick to her stomach to even think about it.
Turning on her heel, she marched down the hall to the conference room where her father and uncles were having a meeting. The same meeting she’d been reviewing the budget for, in fact.
Her dad and uncles didn’t come into the office every day. They were starting to work toward their retirement, cutting their hours little by little. At most, they worked one or two days a week, and only in an administrative capacity. They’d given up field work years ago.
Opening the door to the conference room, she could see them gathered around the table. Her father, Logan, was there, of course, then Uncle Jared, Uncle Jason, and Uncle Reed. They were all drinking coffee and had dug into the platter of donuts in the middle of the table while laughing and talking.
