Say You Still Love Me(73)

She still wanted to interview.

Mark’s smooth voice carries down the hall, announcing their arrival.

“Okay, she’s here. Don’t be a dick,” I warn, turning to watch my sacrificial lamb approach. I struggle to keep my mouth from dropping. “Wow.”

Renée is compact in stature, especially next to Mark. I’m guessing five feet tall without the towering heels. She’s fit, the navy pencil dress showing off tight, hour-glass curves and muscular legs. Her shock of platinum-blonde hair reaches down past her chest and is poker-straight.

Large, expressive blue eyes take me in as Mark leads her forward, and she bites her pouty bottom lip before realizing it and stopping herself.

She’s nervous.

She’s also knockout gorgeous.

“She’s hired,” David murmurs from behind me, watching their approach.

I shoot him a warning look.

“What?” He shrugs innocently. “I’ve always wanted an assistant who I carry around in my pocket.”

As covertly as possible, I elbow David in the ribs before stepping forward. “Renée, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Piper Calloway.”

For as tiny as she may be, she has a broad smile that takes up half her face, and it flashes now to reveal perfect, white teeth. “I could have guessed. Mark has told me so much about you. He loves working here.”

Oh lord, she even has a Southern accent.

David clears his throat and then maneuvers past me with an arm, offering his hand and his signature killer smile. “Hello, I’m David Worthington, vice president of Sales and Marketing at Calloway. You’ll be interviewing for a position as my executive assistant.”

She stiffens in posture. “Yes, of course. Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Come on into my office.” David steps back to give her space to enter, his arm extending in a leading, welcoming gesture. “So, Renée. That’s French, isn’t it?” His voice fades behind the shutting door.

Mark’s nervous gaze is on them.

“So . . . she seems nice.”

“Renée? Oh, yeah. She’s . . .” He clears his throat. “She’s great.”

Huh. “And how long have you had a thing for her?”

“What?” Mark’s head whips around. “I don’t have a thing for her.”

“Really? Because your red face would say otherwise,” I tease.

He sighs and bows his head in defeat. “Five years now, I think? Basically since the moment I met her.”

A burst of laughter sounds from David’s office. Whatever David said must have been funny, because Renée is practically doubled over.

“What have you found on that person I asked you about?”

“Oh, yeah . . .” Mark opens his desk drawer to pull out a sheet of paper. He glances around us, then nods toward my office, and my stomach begins to flutter with anticipation. Whatever he has, it’s something he doesn’t think people should overhear.

“Okay, spill it,” I demand as soon as my door shuts.

“So far, I know that Tripp and Hank Kavanaugh were roommates at Minden College. They also played in a men’s soccer league together for a few years in their twenties.”

“Really? That lazy bastard actually chased after a ball?”

“Maybe it was a beer league?” he offers, then hands me a stack of papers. “Here’s a printout of his calendar for the last six months. Every meeting with Hank is highlighted in yellow.”

I begin flipping through the pages. “A lot of Friday morning golf meetings.”

“Those are the ones Jill has a record of.”

“What did you tell her?” If I didn’t know firsthand Jill’s disdain for Tripp, I would never have suggested that Mark reach out to her. Then again, Mark knows nothing of the kickback suspicions.

“I asked her if Tripp’s been meeting with a guy named Hank and she sent me all this. Then she offered to comb through his emails to see if there are any from KDZ, though she doesn’t remember any coming in.”

As one would expect, if he’s been working this deal for months, as he claims.

“She knows to keep this between us?” The last thing I need is the administrative grapevine catching wind of this.

“She won’t say a word.” He pauses. “What are you hoping to find, anyway?”

“Proof that Tripp’s up to no good.” I know that’s a vague answer, but this level of betrayal is far above Mark’s pay grade. He’s a smart guy, though; he’ll figure it out.

Either way, I don’t have enough to confront Tripp or accuse him of anything yet. “Keep digging.”

Mark nods, and then his gaze wanders back to the office across the hall to watch David and Renée chatter and laugh like old friends. Worry pulls his brow. “Did I just make a huge mistake by introducing them to each other?”

I set a comforting hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. David has too much integrity to sleep with his assistant.” I hope. There’s no doubt David will hire Renée, though; that stupid grin hasn’t slid from his face once. At least I can mark off a mental check box next to one of my dilemmas and move on to tackle Tripp, and my father.

And Kyle.