Page 33 of Whistleblower

When I’ve decided the silence has gone on too long I ask, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I missed my interview. I was working. Is now a good time?”

“Oh.” I was not expecting that. “You know I’ve gotten the majority of information I need. Unless there’s something in particular you want to tell me, you don’t have to do all that.”

“I don’t mind.” He squints in my direction, seeming a little offended. “Lance said he did one.”

“Well, yes, but that’s because Lance loves to talk about himself. I didn’t actually write anything down. He basically just used me as a shrink for an hour.”

To my great surprise, Linc snorts in laughter—genuine laughter. So much so that I notice he has dimples. I thought Linc was good-looking before, but after seeing his wide smile for the first time…

This man is fucking gorgeous.

His eyes dance up and down my body in the most shameless way, as he cradles his chin, his forefinger hooking above his upper lip. He’s studying me again. I cross one leg over the other as if I can shield myself from his hungry stare.

“Feel free to close the door and interview me,” he says, causing a chill to come over me at the idea of Linc and I, alone, behind a closed door. “I’m feeling generous today. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

TWELVE

LINC

What the fuck just came out of my mouth?

I’ll tell you whatever you want to know?

What is wrong with me? I promised myself I wouldn’t lie again, but now… I might have to, because there are some things Eden absolutely cannot know about me.

She’d run…then, hide.

Eden does as instructed and closes her office door. Her breathing is loud and shallow. We’re being professional and coy, but I can’t imagine she’s forgotten my deceptive first introduction. It’d be nice if we could side-step it. I’d rather focus on the way she blushes every time I look at her.

After grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, she settles in the chair across from me. Eden looks near me, but not at me. It’s when we make eye contact that she seems the most disoriented. Apparently, she’s avoiding the distraction.

Eden clears her throat as she tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear—the only piece that’s come free of the twisted bun sitting on the nape of her neck. If she thinks I’m not watching…studying…learning, she’s sorely mistaken. At the moment, I’m letting myself get lost in this new obsession.

“I used to conduct these interviews mostly as a way to give employees an opportunity to explain their grievances and to come up with solutions. Do you remember the triangle?” She pauses and waits for me to nod. “This is a way to let team members know they’re heard.”

“You say ‘team members’ a lot.”

“I do,” she says. “It sounds less condescending than ‘employee’ or ‘subordinate.’ Who wants to feel like property? ‘Team member’ says that they matter, that they are part of something bigger.”

“Is this what you studied for your doctorate? How to get people to feel good about wasting away in offices?”

“Something like that.” She chuckles softly but I don’t think she finds it funny. “But hey, I’m supposed to be asking you questions.”

“Okay.” I hold up my palms. “Ask away.”

A clever smile crosses her face. “How in the world do you balance a full-time career as an assassin, and still moonlight as a janitor?” Her eyebrows arch.

Fuck. Okay, I’m not off the hook.

“I’m sorry, I sort of misled you—”

“Lied,” she interrupts. “Lied is the word you’re looking for.” Her tone isn’t exactly calm, but she doesn’t seem too angry, so I try to explain.

I blow out a short breath. “You seemed startled when you saw me that night. I wasn’t sure what you already knew, but I didn’t want you to be scared of me.”

“Why would I be scared of you?”

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