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Sitting down at my desk, I log out of my company email and wait for the blank login screen to appear.

Seyfried & Holt employee emails may be monitored.

The words are there in black and white, a reminder on the screen as well as on the waivers every single employee signs upon hiring. I doubt that waiver was put in place for emergency snooping situations like this one—and Jack would almost certainly forbid it—but desperate times call for desperate investigative measures.

Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Especially if the forgiveness request is accompanied by solid evidence of employee corruption.

I pop Blair’s email alias into the login screen. It takes nearly an hour and some trolling through Blair’s social media feed for inspiration, but I finally crack her password—KateSpadeAddict1—proving she’s not nearly as clever as she thinks she is.

I’m in.

At first glance, her inbox is relatively uninspiring, but then I click over to her trash and things get more interesting. Like, emails from someone at the Department of Justice kind of interesting…

“What are you up to, Blair?” I murmur as I screenshot the email requesting a happy hour date be moved to a bar farther from the financial district, and go looking for more evidence.

I don’t have anything solid yet, but I’ve always had a good reporter’s nose and right now it smells something foul.

And where there’s stink, there’s story.

Even before Lulu is escorted out of the office with a box full of her things and her purse hitched over her shoulder, I’m determined. After seeing her devastated face and the dejected slump of her shoulders, I’m devoted.

Story or no story, I’m going to make this right.

CHAPTER 17

Jack

Day 17 Fri 8/17

Like Pavlov’s dog, I’ve come to expect the chime of a text notification at the end of a long day of work, and right on cue tonight, it hits.

And right on cue I’m hard again, imagining all the filthy things I plan to do to my sweet, seductive sex kitten as soon as we’re off company property. Her every touch, every smile, every kiss makes the long days worth it. I don’t know how this will work after she wraps up her story and is no longer a fixture at S&H, but I have no doubt we will find a way.

Like so many things in life, there are no guarantees. But for the first time in my mine, I’ve found a risk my heart is willing to take.

The chime dings again, and a smile spreads across my face as I glance down at my messages…

My dick instantly shrivels.

The messages aren’t from Ellie. They’re from Blair.

We need to talk. It’s urgent.Followed by,I’m on my way over.

Shit.

I text a quick response—Already heading out for the night—but before I can tap send, I hear the clip-clop of her heels and then a sharp knock on the door.

I briefly consider hiding under the desk, Ellie-style, but Blair’s already letting herself in.

Schooling my features into something slightly less murderous, I nod a terse acknowledgment. “Make it quick, Blair. I have a dinner meeting with Eric, and I’m already running late.”

In a small, watery voice that’s so unfamiliar I do a double take to check that it’s still my tough-as-nails hiring manager standing there, she says, “You may want to cancel that dinner.”

“No can do.” I have no idea what’s going on here, but the last thing I’m interested in is wasting valuable putting-my-mouth-on-Ellie time by playing guess-what’s-bothering-me with Blair. “Eric and I need to wrap up our recommendations for the Dunn account by Monday morning, and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. So, if you don’t mind, I—”

“Actually, Jack, I do mind.” She closes her eyes and presses her fingers to her lips. After another beat, she looks at me again and says, “Eric is the reason I’m here.”

Oh, shit. Please don’t tell me she found Ellie snooping through the database…

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