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"Sorry,” she said, grabbing a few of the scattered papers and standing up quickly. “I'm such a klutz.”
Chesney picked up the last few sheets of paper and stood up slowly, an unreadable expression on his face.
“That's fine,” he handed her the papers, forms that she needed to go and get people to sign. “Accidents happen.”
His words stabbed at her like a dagger. Gracie nodded curtly and then practically fled his office. Her heart was racing and her lips tingled as if they actually had been kissed.
She tried to think of Klarov. Her boss would tell her not to get too emotionally invested in any suspect. He'd be annoyed at her for even sympathizing with Chesney, let alone nearly kissing him. She needed some of Klarov's resolve right now, because even though she'd achieved what she'd set out to do, and stolen Chesney's phone, she wasn't elated. Her skin prickled and she felt dirty.
It was guilt. She felt guilty for taking Chesney's phone at the same time as nearly kissing him.
As she walked around the office, getting the signatures that Chesney needed, she tried to reason away the uncomfortable feeling: she was just doing her job. She was a PI, this was just a normal aspect of undercover work. The Kiss-That-Wasn't was just an accident. It wouldn't happen again.
Gracie returned to her desk to find Chesney waiting for her. He had the dead phone in his hand, frowning at it.
“Hey, Greta. I can't get my phone to turn on, do you mind taking it to the Apple store to see if they can fix it?”
“No problem,” Gracie said. Most people, in Gracie's experience, would make some kind of sarcastic or passive-aggressive comment at this stage. She'd knocked Chesney's phone to the floor and then, from his perspective, it had stopped working. Yet he wasn't blaming her.
An excuse to be out of the office for a few hours was exactly what she was hoping for. She could go through his phone, hopefully, work out if he was innocent or not, and then put this whole case behind her.
“Great, I've got a meeting at six. Could you stop by the restaurant and drop off the phone once it's fixed?”
“Sure. What restaurant are you going to?”
“Le Fendoir.”
“Ooh, very classy.”
Chesney winked at her, “I'm a classy guy, can't you tell?”
“I would never have guessed,” she said primly, plucking the dead phone from his hand. Her fingers brushed against his. It was a casual, meaningless touch, but she was vividly aware of exactly where they were touching, the temperature of his skin, the pressure of his flesh.
“I'm sure they'll get it working in no time,” Gracie lied, clutching the dead phone tightly.
Despite the Kiss-That-Wasn't,Gracie considered herself a careful woman. She was not the type to ruin a job just because of one careless mistake.
Gracie drove a few blocks and pulled over next to a small park. This was far enough away from the office that no-one from the magazine would see what she was up to.
Chesney's phone opened easily as she put in his passcode. Now, all she had to do was go through his call history and find the person he'd been talking to when he'd confessed that Huang was ‘onto him'.
It was a number, with no name set into the contact info. Gracie put the number into her own phone and then called it, the thrill of the chase making her eager to unravel this mystery.
The phone rang a few times before a woman picked up.
“Trident Solutions, how can I help you?”
Gracie frowned. Chesney had been speaking to someone from a different company? A company that had an annoyingly vague name…
“Yeah, hi. I was wondering if I could make an appointment?”
“Is this a support issue?” the woman asked in a bored tone.
“No. Actually, I'm thinking about starting a new...venture.”
“I'll put you through to Darryl. Hold, please.”
Tinny classical music came through the phone before Gracie could say anything. A man crossed the street in front of Gracie's car, heading for the park. He had a yellow lab on a leash, the dog straining to get to the park. She narrowed her eyes at him, waiting for him to look around but the dogwalker didn't pay her any attention.
