Page 126 of Accidental Theirs
“Mr. Blackwood,” she says, a teasing lilt to her voice. “I wanted to give you a file. One of the new hires I’ve been concerned about.”
She slides a file folder across my desk, and I flip it open.
I don’t recognize the girl, but I do remember the name—Rosalind isn’t exactly a popular name these days, and I remember vaguely signing paperwork to hire her. I didn’t interview her myself, so that’s maybe why I don’t recognize her.
But she’s part of my team, and if there’s something sketchy going on, I need to know about it.
“I want you to talk to her,” Olivia says, and I look up at her, surprised.
“Why me?”
“Because everyone knows my face. You’re recognizable,but you’re not among all the employees as much as me. Plus, you’re technically her direct boss, right?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not exactly good at being discreet.”
“You can do it.” She sounds a lot more confident than I feel. “I believe in you, Damien.”
Oh no. My heart swells, and now I have to do it. This is my mission.
“I’ll find out what’s going on with her.”
“Thank you.” She smiles slightly and leaves and this time, Idowatch the lines of her thighs as she goes.
I wish they were wrapped around my waist again.
I lick my lips and stand up, heading to the accounting department.
The only way I can do this is in person, since it’d be strange if the CEO just called up a minor employee. I don’t want to draw too much attention.
Everyone seems on edge as I walk through the department, and I basically stake out around Rosalind’s office.
Her door is closed, and nothing appears to be going on. At least not to the naked eye.
I wait until lunchtime before deciding to give up. She’s clearly never going to leave her office.
I’m nearly asleep when her door cracks open. I startle upright, slicking back my hair with one hand.
Her heels click on the linoleum as she leaves the building, and I sweep into her office quickly when no one is looking.
I’m rifling through the paperwork on her desk when the clicking sound gets closer.
I freeze, dropping everything, and manage to get on the other side of her desk, bracing my hands behind me, when she walks in.
She jumps, startled. “Mr. Blackwood? What are you doing here?”
“I’ve, uh, been watching you, Mrs. Miles.”
“It’s Ms. Miles,” she corrects, taking a few steps forward, her chest poked out.
I clear my throat, confused.
She doesn’t seem angry the way I thought she’d be.
“I wanted to talk to you. Specifically, about the hall of records.”
“Hall of records?” She looks genuinely confused, her eyes wide. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”
“No,” I say quickly, but then she steps forward and puts her hands on my chest.
