“It’s a great opportunity for you to grow your business,” Joyce said.
I sucked in a deep breath and counted to ten before I met Joyce’s waiting gaze again. “Thank you for thinking of me, but no.”
Joyce shifted in her chair, but never broke eye contact. “Can I ask why?”
“I have to prioritize myself,” I explained. “Inserting myself in the middle of your family drama when I actively avoid my own wouldn’t be good for me.”
Leaning forward, Joyce rested her elbows on her desk. “How can I assure you?”
I shrugged. “You can’t.” I swallowed past a hard lump in my throat. “I’ve been through a lot since I’ve been away. I’ve crawled my way to a healthy place. As much as I want to help you, I can’t do it.” The job was so desperately needed, but the cost would far outweigh the benefits. “I know several local PIs that could assist. I can put you in touch.”
“I understand,” Joyce said finally. “I don’t want to put you in a position where you would question your spiritual, physical, and mental health. I consider you family. Your grandmother is my best friend, myonlyfriend. And if you can’t do this, I’ll accept that.”
A sigh a relief escaped my lips. “Thank you for understanding.”
Joyce swiveled in her seat and peered out at the skyline. “I want Wesley to succeed. But I worry he’s too angry, too distracted with his own endgame—and his vices—to be effective. This latest thing, the TikTokker, is intent on ruining him.”
It had been years since I had seen Wesley, but time had done nothing to qualm the pang of hurt that had shot through me at the mere sight of him this morning. When Joyce had requested my services to find an anonymous blogger, Ms. Tea, it was the sort of thing I would’ve jumped at the chance to do.
Yesterday.
For someone else.
Someone who had nothing to do with Wesley Batchelor.
“I may have to fire him,” Joyce admitted softly.
My chest tightened.Damn it. Even after all these years, the notion that Wesley could suffer in any capacity still affected me, made me want to protect him. To help him. “I’m sorry.”
With her back to me, Joyce continued, “I would still like you to work for me. Like I mentioned earlier, I need someone I can trust on my team.”
Granny was never one to beat around the bush. She’d always been forthcoming, direct. Even if the sting of her words left a scar. I sensed she was holding back, though. It wasn’t uncommon for a business to need the services of a private investigator, especially one as large as Batchelor Corp. Yet, her words made me think she knew that something was amiss at her company, thatsomeonein her circle was untrustworthy.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” My conflicting emotions only confirmed that I wasn’t ready, no matter how appealing the offer. “Not right now.”
Finally turning to me, the older woman smiled. “I won’t push you, but I truly believe that you are perfectly equipped to handle the job.” I opened my mouth to speak, but Joyce rushed on. “And my grandson. Sometimes the past is just a vehicle to drive you into your future. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
I turned over Joyce’s words in my head. She’d given me something to consider. It didn’t have to be a big deal. An investigationinvolvingWesley didn’t necessarily translate to being involvedwithWesley. Of course, I would have to talk to him.Maybe. Even that was avoidable. And it was justoneinvestigation, a small part of the job.
“Sweetie?” Joyce called, pulling me from my thoughts.
Nodding, I asked, “Can I think about it?”
I couldn’t get out of Joyce’s office fast enough. As soon as we’d agreed to table the discussion for next week, I’d fled and made a beeline straight for the elevator. Stepping inside, I jabbed my finger on the “L.” Once the door closed, I closed my eyes and leaned against the cool metal wall.What the hell am I thinking?
When the car stopped, I glanced up and noticed it’d stopped at the tenth floor. My stomach fell when the door opened, because of course Wesley would be standing right there. Shifting to one side, I waited for him to enter. He pressed the “L” button again and stood next to me.
Impatient, I jabbed at the button as if that would somehow transport the elevator down to the lobby in an instant. The damn door still didn’t close. I pushed it again. And again.Close, damn it!Finally, we were on our way down to the lobby. But the silence made the short ride feel like forever.
Wes scooted closer. Too close.
And he smells so good.“Don’t,” I warned, stepping forward, away from the heat emanating from his body.
“Why are you here?” he whispered, his voice low.
I gripped the strap of my purse and willed my body not to react to the feel of his breath against the nape of my neck. Because, apparently, he still made me wet and horny. “Can you move?”
“Are you going to answer the question?” he murmured.
