Page 82 of Dear John

“Of course she did.”

His face morphed into a frown as he kicked the floor like a kid. “Man, I thought my last hiding spot was pretty good.”

I wasn’t about to debate the merits or failures of spying on your wife with the man. Whatever relationship they had, it was pretty strange to me. Then again, my own with Kavanaugh wasn’t too much better.

My phone buzzed in my purse and I pulled it out, grateful for the distraction as I headed up to the 24thfloor.

Riley: Please tell me you didn’t get a kitten.

Me: That would be a lie.

Riley: How could you? When I wanted that kitten in high school, you wouldn’t help me sneak it in the house.

Me: We were in high school.

Riley: What’s your point?

Me: I didn’t technically steal this kitten. Kavanaugh brought it home.

Riley: Home. Listen to how cute you sound.

I hadn’t told her about the massive fight between us, or the fact that I was questioning whether or not this could work. Riley was a huge fan of Kavanaugh’s, but even she could see the mounting tension. But if I said something to her, it was real, and I wasn’t ready to admit out loud that we might not make it.

I shoved my phone in my pocket just as we passed the 23rdfloor. I tried not to squirm as I thought about how Kavanaugh had insisted this guy was trying to kill me. It didn’t make sense. Why would a man I didn’t even know want me dead?

Then again, maybe Kavanaugh was right. Was it odd that he got ahold of me out of the blue to work for him? All of these lavish things were tossed at me in an effort to get me to agree to interview for the job. And showing me an office space that was empty, filled with power tools and plastic sheeting…

Christ, now I was sweating just thinking about it. What if this guy really was trying to kill me. And I was walking right into his trap. I showed up here, certain this was the job of a lifetime when all along he was just luring me out here.

The doors opened and I stared at the office space in front of me. Neat and tidy, professional, and not a speck or hint of a crazy person. I glanced at Fox, who was licking the inside of the bag clean, and thought long and hard about who I should be concerned about.

I chuckled to myself as I stepped off the elevator. I was going crazy, letting Kavanaugh’s overprotective nature get to me. This man was perfectly nice and sane, yet I was acting like he was crazy because of my boyfriend’s overactive imagination.

“So, do you want me to come in with you?” Fox asked, licking his fingers clean.

“Nope, I think I can handle this.”

The secretary motioned for me to go ahead as she finished up a phone call. I strode down the hallway with confidence, knowing that if I nailed this, I would have a great little nest egg set up.

Jerry stood as I walked through the open door, smiling congenially at me. But I didn’t miss the way his eyes skittered back to the door, waiting for my crazy boyfriend to follow me in here. Of course, he thought Kavanaugh was my assistant.

“Jerry, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” he said, stepping forward and holding out his hand to me. His wife walked around the desk, smiling at me also.

See? This is nice. They’re normal people, just here to interview a qualified person to promote their company and help it rise to the top. There is absolutely nothing crazy going on here.

I took a seat as Jerry walked over to the bar, grabbed a glass, and turned it over. “Drink?”

“Uh, not for me.”

“Oh, come on,” he jeered. “It’s never too early for a scotch.”

It was ten in the morning. “No, that’s okay.”

He shrugged and set the glass down, picking up another. He poured a healthy amount, then came back to the table. But my eyes were still on that glass. Why had he set it down? It wasn’t like I had touched it.

Poison.

---