Page 194 of Diego

“And you were letting me sit upstairs watching cooking shows?”

His lips twitch. “They were very good cooking shows.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

Unfortunately, I do not.

I get out of the chair before remembering I am supposed to be conserving energy and immediately sit back down again. Diego’s brows lift, but he wisely says nothing.

“What exactly would I be doing?”

He swivels the laptop slightly so I can see the screen. “Think of it as a legacy acquisition review. You go through old Meridian files and flag anything Conti Enterprises might want to revisit. Properties, portfolios, parcels, whatever catches your attention.”

I move closer to the desk, already reading the folder names. “How old are these?”

“Some only a year or two. Others go back farther.”

I look up at him. “Why have you not given this to me before?”

“Because you were supposed to be resting.”

“I can rest and research at the same time.”

“That remains to be seen.”

I ignore him and turn back to the screen. There are hundreds of files organized by year, property type, and status. Some are obvious dead ends even from the names. Others immediately make me curious.

This is exactly what I needed.

It is property work without clients. No appointments, no heels, no walking through houses, no pressure to close anything. Just information and the possibility that somewhere inside a pile of old records is something everyone else overlooked.

It is essentially property detective work.

I love it already.

Diego watches my face and apparently sees enough there to become suspicious. “Before you disappear into this for hours, there are conditions.”

I sigh. “Naturally.”

“There is no deadline. Nobody is waiting for the report. Which means,” he says, “if you get tired, you stop.”

“Okay,” I say quickly.

“I mean it, Blair. I don't want you tiring yourself out. You're still recovering.”

“I know. I know.”

He puts a hand over the screen, covering my view, forcing me to lift my eyes to his.

“And this is not an excuse to start contacting owners, brokers, attorneys, or anyone else connected to these properties.”

I look at him.

He looks back.

I had already been thinking about that.