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“I rated you as someone quick on the uptake—one of the reasons you got the job. Fast learner. But if you think the Jamesons are so weak-kneed and careless as to let you go over something like this, I was wrong about you.”
It all just flooded through her, a tsunami of emotion, stress, relief. Bursting into tears, she dropped into the chair again, covered her face with her hands.
After one quick knock, Miles opened the door. “Grand, I—Well, hell.”
“Give the girl a handkerchief.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Come in here, close the door.”
“Maybe I should just—”
“Now!” As she spoke, Lydia opened a drawer, took out a box of tissues. “Give her the tissues, get her some water. Don’t be a jackass.”
“I’m sorry. I just—”
“You cry it out. You’re entitled. That murdering son of a bitch killed another woman in Tennessee.”
Lydia gave him the details more coherently than Morgan had managed to give them to her. And though he already knew, Miles said nothing.
“She thought we’d fire her over it.”
“Then she’s stupid.”
“She’s not stupid, she’s overwrought, as anybody with sense can see.”
“I’m sorry.” Struggling for composure, Morgan mopped at tears. “I’m sorry.”
“What’ve you got to be sorry for?”
Morgan lifted her drenched eyes to Lydia. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I wish I did.” She pulled out more tissues. “God, I’m a mess. I can be sorry for that.”
“Apology accepted. Miles.”
“Sure. Jake—police chief,” he added in case Morgan didn’t know, “already spoke with me. We’ll make copies of the photo, make sure Security has them. Reservations, check-in, restaurant and bar managers, and so on. Grand, we need to lend her one of the staff vehicles. You should see the pile of crap she’s driving. A breakdown between here and the Nash place is inevitable.”
“I’m going to get a new car. I’m going today. My grandmother wouldn’t take no on it.”
“Olivia Nash is a woman of sense. I expect the same from her granddaughter. You’re also part of the Jameson family now, and we take care of our own. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m very grateful.”
“Continue to do good work, as you have been. That’s thanks enough. Miles, walk Morgan to her car.”
Morgan rose. “I’ll do good work, and I’ll still be grateful. Thank you.”
“Let’s go this way.”
He led her to the left, past more offices, and paused at a restroom. “Go in and do something with your face.”
“That bad?”
“Bad enough.”
She went, saw he hadn’t lied, and did the best she could.
“Better?” she asked when she came out.
