Page 48 of So Close

“I’ll mention it. Is there anything you need right now? I can take over something on your schedule so you can go home and get cleaned up?”

The bitterness clogging the back of my throat eases. I appreciate that he understands how greatly I contribute to Baharan. It’s infuriating having to stress the obvious all the time. “No, I can manage from home.” I take a calming breath. “Lily seems to be doing well. Are you returning to the office?”

“Not yet. We just happened to be close by, and I wanted her to see what we have here.”

Despair and excitement war inside me. “Any idea exactly when you’ll be coming back?”

“I’m shooting for the Monday after next, but that’s subject to change.”

“You’ve been gone for nearly two months as it is.”

“I’m aware of how long I’ve been working from home. I’m going to show her around now.” He’s already walking toward the door as if he’s done his duty and is eager to go. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Yes. Of course I will.”

The moment the door shuts, I press both hands against my mouth, physically holding back the argument boiling inside me. I stumble to the sofa and drop like a stone. I want a drink so badly my mouth is watering. Oh no … I’m becoming Amy.

The thought is almost enough to spur hysteria.

Not again. I shake my head violently. I’m not losing control again. This is an opportunity, and I won’t squander it. I will continue building the company Kane can’t even envision yet. Then he’ll see. They’ll all see.

Although just having had someone else’s bodily fluids spat all over me is sickening, I accept the discomfort and move to my desk. It’s not as if the feeling is unfamiliar. I pull up the security cameras on the main floor and settle in to wait. Eventually, my utter stillness causes the motion sensor-activated overhead lights to turn off, just as they would have done if I’d left for the day. Anyone walking by would assume I’d gone. All the office doors are set within walls of frosted glass, an aesthetic choice to match the cubicles but also a way to ensure the natural light from the exterior windows brightens the entire floor.

I don’t know how long I sit there, watching Kane take Lily around to all the executive offices. It becomes a repeating cycle: awe at her beauty, followed by the universally shocked expression that he would suddenly have his wife back, and finishing with being wholly charmed by whatever interaction they had with her. Kane has so easily stepped into the role of accessory, allowing her to shine. His gaze never leaves her, and he wears a warm smile of pride and male appreciation.

Any idea I’d entertained of my eldest being impartial is shot to hell.

They pause at Kane’s cubicle. Kane, the CEO and Chairman of the Board, has no office. He commands from a workspace among and alongside staff. It’s infuriating. If we had equal offices, it would make the right statement. Instead, his egalitarian leadership approach seems effortless, making me look like I’m trying too hard.

I square my shoulders. I’m nottryingto look powerful. Iampowerful. My sons’ unfortunate choices of wives won’t interfere with that.

Kane cleans out his desk, shoving files and other items into his satchel. Lily smiles at the employee on the other side of the glass partition. They begin to chat. Kane steps out and urges his wife into his space with a hand at her elbow. In short order, she’s sitting on the edge of his desk with her long legs crossed, and everyone has gathered around. She appears to be telling a story, her arms and expression animated. There is amusement on the faces of everyone, and not a single fucking employee is doing their damn job except for reception, which one person is apparently managing because two of them are listening to Lily.

“I see you,” I hiss at her, my eyes narrowed. There is nothing sweet or disarming about her. She’s a woman who understands the power of her appearance. She’s observant. She compliments women on their jewelry and leverages personal items on desks and cubicle walls to establish rapport. She smiles and reaches for Kane often, touching his sleeve every few moments. It’s an act I recognize, a performance any attractive woman with a brain would see right through.

Eventually, my son and his wife leave, and my attention turns to his admin, Julian. I’ll have wasted my time if Julian doesn’t take off for lunch. As the minutes tick by, I think that’s exactly what I’ve done. But then he stands, stretches, pulls on his jacket, and heads toward the front.

I send my schedule for the next two weeks to the printer, then leave my office to collect it from the copy room. I pass the break room on the way and am relieved that Julian isn’t there. If he’s left the building, I’ll have an even larger window of time. I grab the papers from the tray, shove them into a folder, then walk with purpose toward Kane’s desk.

This would be so much easier if he had a damned office! His cubicle is wide open to the floor, leaving me no way to be discreet. All I can do is act as if I have every right to log into his terminal, which I do. We’re talking about my company. I’m the Chief Operations Officer, after all.

Most of the floor is empty, although a handful of employees eat at their desks. I sit at Kane’s station, dropping the folder on the desktop as an excuse to be there. Pulling out his keyboard tray, I wake the system and log in with his password, which is stored in the database that logs every keystroke and phone call made on every Baharan terminal. The pharmaceutical industry is cutthroat, and we must be ever vigilant against corporate espionage and cyber theft.

Once I’m in, I look at his calendar, running through his appointments. Every meeting is set for either a video conference or a phone call. A doctor’s visit was scheduled for this morning, which explains why he’s not actively working from home at the moment.

I open his browser and then his private mailbox. I’ve never been able to get into it before and may never be able to again. Today is a rare perfect storm when he’s been in the office, then left without me, and his admin is out to lunch. In the future, if he goes through the security logs, will he remember if he checked his email from his desk before leaving for nearly two weeks? Will he remember what time he left? I don’t think so.

A steady stream of adrenaline pumps through my veins, dampening my palms. My feet tap to purge the restless energy. I scroll swiftly, my eyes darting back and forth as I power-read every subject line and sender. Near the bottom is an unread email that catches my attention and holds it. The sender is Rampart Protection & Investigative Services, and the subject reads, Final Report and Case Termination.

My heart pounds so hard it begins to hurt. My fingers tremble as they hover over the keys.

Is he on to me?

He’s smart enough. Why else would he use an outside firm instead of Baharan’s in-house team? Doesn’t he trust our people?Couldhe trust them to investigate me, considering my position within the company? I can’t imagine he knows I’ve occasionally encouraged the head of our security to fuck me on his desk. Rogelio is too thorough to get caught. Then again, Kane has repeatedly shown that he’s aware of more than he should be and ruthless when necessary.

Except when it comes to his wife.

I hate the nervousness that crawls around and between my vital organs, like a million ants have invaded my body. Darius is more vulnerable to accusations of treachery than me; I ensured that. Still, I could better protect us both if I had advance warning.

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