Page 10 of The Protégé

“A businessman like you should know that time is precious and costly. What’s your proposal?”

I pushed myself off the hood and gestured to the scratches and dents. My finger traced the silver paint left from her car. “To pay for this dent here would require your annual salary. Mind you, there are more scratches over here.”

The offer swimming in my head also surprised me. After hearing the story surrounding The Condor, I needed someone in this city to help me find answers. This was Elena’s turf. She could assist me, help me see things I might’ve missed.

When she didn’t take off after hitting my car, she became the perfect candidate. She possessed a character trait required to work with me. Elena Sanchez demonstrated she had an integrity that many people in the media lacked these days.

I’d encountered numerous respected journalists and trusted none of them. I could still be wrong about Elena, but I’d give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, this was my opportunity to resolve an attraction I’d felt when I saw her at the museum.

I didn’t have time for relationships. My concentration was on finding who had murdered my mentor.

Elena Sanchez intrigued me not only from what I’d witnessed on the recording, but from the way she made my heart race. There had only been one woman who’d done that, but she was no longer on this Earth.

You need to get laid.

That was probably true, but time had been scarce for that too.

Would she agree to help if she knew the reason for the proposal? Probably not.

She seemed agitated, so I’d give her the short version. Once she agreed, I could make adjustments.

“I need help that requires extensive research around Providence. You live and work here. I’d appreciate your perspective.”

She arched an elegant eyebrow. “What kind of research?”

“The kind that takes down bad people regardless of who they are.”

Her face brightened, lighting up something within me.

“Why me?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Because you report the truth, even if it costs your career.”

She flicked me a curious gaze, studying me for far too long. “How did you know about that?”

“Work with me and I’ll tell you.”

“Why does it sound too good to be true?” she countered.

“You’re overthinking it.” I studied her reaction.

She gave me a half-laugh. “I’m certainly not.” She jerked her chin toward my car. “That stunning beast of a car cost more than most mansions. I fear your proposal might lead me to my demise.”

I laughed. “You have an interesting imagination.”

“No, I’m being practical. You’re a rich guy who can pull all kinds of strings. I work in the media and I’ve seen, heard, and witnessed countless things requested—no,demanded—by privileged people like you. Frankly, I don’t trust them.”

Such admirable honesty.

“You believe I’m untrustworthy because of my wealth? That’s prejudice, isn’t it?”

There goes the sexy eye roll.Fucking hell.

“I didn’t say that.” She scoffed. “But what you just did was twist my words into some retort that makes you seem glamorous while I look like a jerk.”

Was I trying to do that?No.

Would she believe me? Probably not.

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