Page 20 of Not in Love

He nodded slowly. Regrouping, or maybe just buying time to stare with hungry, eager, calculating eyes. Take in the shape of me in the light of this new day.

I doubted it flattered me.

“Rue Siebert,” he said, seemingly more in control. Then repeated, “Dr. Rue Siebert,” with the tone of someone who’d found the answer to a crossword cue.

Somewhere in his head, or at the very least on his phone, this man had a list of my sex preferences. He knew that I didn’t enjoy penetrative sex, but didn’t mind being held down. That I wasn’t interested in threesomes or humiliating language, but I was open to incorporating toys.

I refused to be ashamed of what I enjoyed, but it still felt discomfiting. Like being ripped open.

“Did you know who I was when you contacted me on the app?” he asked, and I wished I could have scoffed or dismissed it as deranged paranoia on his part, but my mind had initially gone there, too.

This cannot be a coincidence.

Except, it could be. It had to be, because I had been the one to message him. I had chosen not to reveal my real name. I had given him my phone number. It put a real damper on all the conspiracy theories my mind wanted to craft.

“No. I didn’t know Harkness existed until this morning. And I didn’t . . .” I hesitated. “I didn’t look up your full name. Not even last night, after.” It had felt wrong, when he hadn’t known mine. Plus, I wasn’t used to this. Wanting to know things, about a man.

“Okay,” he muttered, running one hand through his hair and leaving it no more mussed. Some kind of ceiling effect, clearly. “I didn’t know, either,” he said, clearly aware that I’d contemplated the possibility, as ridiculous as it was. If Eli had been inclined toward corporate espionage, I’d have been a terrible choice. I was utterly, fantastically irrelevant in the grand scheme of Kline.

And yet, here he was. Looking at me like nothing else existed in the world.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.” He made a gesture with his hand, and I noticed the number I’d scribbled last night on his palm. Just the faint, illegible shadow of it, like he’d washed his hands several times in the interim, purposefully avoiding scrubbing hard enough to erase all traces. “It changes nothing,” he added.

“Nothing?”

“Between us.” He smiled. That knockout, nice-guy, grown-up-surrounded-by-love-and-confidence-and-the-certainty-of-his-worth smile. “I’ll talk to HR, but I don’t think this causes any conflict of interest. We . . .”

He paused, so I cocked my head and took a curious step toward him, entering a new gravitational field. His body was not the reason I’d chosen to message him, but I couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. Big frame. Full biceps. More what I’d expect from a pro athlete than from someone who sat behind a desk for a living. “We?” I asked.

He looked down at me, eyelashes fluttering. “You seemed interested in we, last night.”

“I was.” I bit the side of my cheek. “But last night I had no idea you were trying to steal the company I work for.”

Abruptly, the temperature in the room dropped. Tension pulled, instantly hostile.

Eli’s jaw twitched, and he took a step forward. His expression was outwardly amused, but his muscles were taut. “Steal the company.” He nodded, making a show of considering my words. “That’s a big accusation.”

“If the shoe fits.”

“Remarkably poor fit for a shoe.” He held my eyes. “Did Harkness barge in wearing ski masks? Because that is what thieves do.”

I didn’t reply.

“Did we take the property of someone else without offering compensation? Did we obtain something through subterfuge?” He shrugged. With ease. “I don’t think so. But if you suspect foul play, by all means. There are several authorities to which you can report us.”

I thought of myself as a rational person, and rationally I knew that he was right. And yet, Eli being part of Harkness felt like a personal betrayal. Even though we’d barely spent an hour together. Maybe the problem was that I’d shared about Vince with Eli, shared more than I should because . . . because I’d liked him. I’d liked Eli, and that was the crux of it. Now that I’d finally admitted it to myself, I could let go of it. Of him.

How liberating.

“We didn’t steal anything, Rue,” he told me, voice low. “What we did was buy a loan. And what we’re doing is making sure that our investment pays off. That’s it.”

“I see. And tell me, is it normal for the highest-ranking members of a private equity firm to be on-site interviewing employees?”

His mouth twitched. “Are you an expert on financial law, Dr. Siebert?”

“It seems like you already know the answer to that.”

“As do you.”

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