Sleeping with the Boss (Anderson Brothers, #1)(48)

Jacob paused before closing the door. “I’m sorry about this, sir, but your brother Michael said it was urgent he speak with you. He asked you to call him the minute you land.”

He pulled both phones out of the pocket in the limo door where they’d left them, and turned his on.

“Welcome back to reality,” Claire said, taking her own phone and pushing the power button.

Michael was probably pissed he’d taken the weekend off. Hell, Mikey got pissed about everything that wasn’t on a schedule or color-coded. He’d always thought his brother needed someone in his life who would conform and follow his rules. But maybe Claire was right. The best thing for him would be to have someone come in and shake him up for once. And right now, Will wanted to shake him. Not that way, but until his teeth rattled. He could have at least given them until Monday morning.

“Well, I have good news at least,” she said, scrolling through a message. “Heather’s at my place packing for me.”

“That’s a good friend who will help you move.”

The minute his phone got a signal, “Smooth Operator” started up. “Yeah, Mike. What’s up?”

Claire shot him a nervous look, so he put the phone on speaker. Total transparency from now on.

His brother’s voice sounded benign coming through the tiny phone speaker. “I’m not going to address how I feel about company policy or what a prick I think you are, Will.”

“That’s decent of you, brother,” Will responded, winking at Claire. “So I’ll do the same.”

“Sometimes I f*cking want to kill you.”

“Sometimes? I must be losing my touch.” He leaned back against the seat, knowing this was going to be long and frustrating.

“There’s been another one reported while you’ve been…out.”

That, he didn’t expect. He sat forward, phone in palm. “Do you have any details?”

“Whittle’s grandson came in with a set of canopic jars. They were diverted to another dealer the same day.”

“When?”

“The day of the Guidry auction. Whittle said he was approached by a petite blonde in a business suit around nine o’clock.”

Will didn’t answer. Claire had left just after seven. He hadn’t arrived at her place until after ten. No. Just, f*cking no. He knew better. He knew Claire.

“Your girl was the only one working on this one,” Michael said. “I’m so sorry. It’s not looking good.”

He couldn’t even look at her right now. He knew she was mortified to be under suspicion again. “She’s not the spy.”

“I trust you, Will. You have great instincts. I have all the hope in the world you can exclude her, but we need to find the real spy, if she’s not the one.”

Michael’s softening toward Claire gave him hope. “Agreed. I’ll find out who is really doing this.” He shot a look to Claire and winked. She returned his gesture with a faint quirk of the lips—something resembling a failed attempt to smile.

“Good. I’ll see you when you come in tomorrow. I was successful in the Greek acquisition and flew home yesterday.” His screen went blank. Michael had ended the call and Will’s happiness high as well. Time to get serious and end this business once and for all.

…

A horrible sinking feeling surged through Claire in an intense, nauseating wave. She was the only one working on the canopic jars. She was alone in her apartment at the time the client was approached. This looked awful. No, it was awful.

The only way out of this was to find out who the spy really was. She glanced over at Will. The look on his face held nothing but concern and tender compassion. He trusted her. She needed to validate it.

“I have no way to address this yet,” she said.

“You don’t have to. I know you didn’t do it.”

There was really nothing she could say at this point. She didn’t need to protest her innocence, because he already believed it, and it sounded like Michael was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, too, but she couldn’t leave the country with this suspicion hanging over her time with Will. She couldn’t provide an alibi, because she didn’t have one. After dinner with Heather, she went straight home…

Wait a minute. She picked up her phone and flipped backward through the photos. There were the canopic jars…and the Anubis statue…and the jade necklace and earrings…and the …holy shit. Icy cold dread prickled the back of her neck and arms as a horrible realization hit.

…

Something was wrong with Claire. Maybe hearing his brother’s concerns did it, or maybe it was something else. At least Michael hadn’t been a total dick this time.

He reached over and ran his hand over her thigh and she scooted against him, tucking against his body as if for protection. “We’ll figure out who it is,” he whispered into her hair. When she didn’t respond, he settled down and simply enjoyed having this remarkable woman in his arms.

When they reached the city, she stiffened again, then texted someone. He peeked down at her screen and saw it was a message for Heather. “Wait for me,” was all it said.

Still silent, she stared out the window as if the crushing weight of the world were on her shoulders. God, he wanted to lift that weight, but he just didn’t know what it was. He would like to have thought it had to do with the inevitable end of the best weekend ever, but somehow, he didn’t think so.