Page 9 of Hostile Intent


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Information was everything.

She took the takeout and gestured for Tank to grab a seat. “So, tell me about your new housekeeper.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. All I’ve got is a name and a phone number. Someone recommended her in the neighborhood chat.”

She scooped noodles into her mouth with the chopsticks and nodded. “I can work with that.”

“How was day one undercover?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a secret agent. It was fine. Boring corporate stuff mostly.”

“You need backup?” His face didn’t betray any of the kindness intended by the words.

She smiled at him and considered the offer. It would be nice to have an ally inside Zia. Someone she could trust. Especially since the one person she was supposed to trust was the one person she trusted the least. So far, she didn’t feel threatened at all.

“Not yet, but I promise to let you know if I do.”

Tank grunted and then left without so much as a good-bye. She chuckled and continued eating as she wrapped up the background checks.

Joey checked the time in the corner of her computer display. She grabbed her phone from her bag and winced at the text from Kensington.

Unknown number: We’re at your place.

Unknown number: Where are you?

Unknown number: Headed to BTS.

The last message was ten minutes ago. Which meant he was–

“Joey!” Flint’s voice carried from the other end of the hallway, and telltale footsteps told her he was headed her way.

She turned to her computers. “Yeah, boss?” she asked over her shoulder.

“You have a visitor.”

She turned. “Oh, Mr. Kensington. Nice to see you,” she said with insincere sweetness.

“Why weren’t you at your house?” he practically growled. “I texted you about tonight.”

Her chair scraped against the floor as she jumped to her feet. This man was beyond infuriating. She ground her teeth and stepped forward, deliberately closing the space between them. Her heart was racing, but she refused to let her adrenaline betray her. She didn’t love confrontation, but something about his arrogant demeanor coupled with her own thoughts about his allegiances just set her off.

She took a deep breath and spoke with a determined iciness. “Next time you want a meeting, you may request one. Youmay ask,” she emphasized by punctuating each word, “when or where is convenient. I do not respond to being summoned like a low-paid assistant, desperate to please you. After an entire day of orientation and tours and not a moment of access to a computer, I had work to do.” She gestured broadly to her office. “So here I am. Doing my job. If you don’t like it, you are welcome to take it up with my boss.” She glanced at Flint, who was watching the exchange with amusement. “Otherwise, you are welcome to sit down, and I’ll catch you up on what I know.”

Kensington looked back and forth between her and Flint, who simply shrugged. Cole sighed and stepped inside her office.

Flint reached in and patted his friend on the shoulder, making her throat close up. She hated that they were friends. “Have fun. I have a call, otherwise I’d join you. Joey, catch me up later, okay?”

She met her boss’s eyes. He looked pointedly at Kensington and mouthed a command to be nice. Joey responded by pointing to herself as though offended he would feel the need to remind her. Flint walked away, and she blew out a breath, steeling herself for this encounter and thinking about Flint’s reminder. Didn’t he know? She was always nice–except to evil, greedy CEOs who were trying to pull one over on her most trusted friend.

CHAPTERFIVE

Cole studiedthe large office as he stood awkwardly in the center. It was dark, but there was enough light coming from screens and other equipment to see. Even the keyboard was lit up with rainbow LEDs. A low sound he couldn’t identify hummed just over the noise of the computers. Was that… kids’ music?

He found the source of the sound and then hit the button on the small speaker to turn it up. He recognized the music fromCinderellaand turned to Joey. She glared at him, silencing his question. She sat down in a chair that resembled a starship captain’s and set her Chinese food aside. It was nearly eight-thirty. Did she always eat so late?

She hit a few buttons on the keyboard, and the music stopped.

“Does Jared know I work for BTS?” she asked, a chilliness in her tone he was becoming all too familiar with.

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