Page 56 of Forging Caine

Harry stood as tall as Elliot, with graying brown hair and as commanding an aura. He’d retired from a career in the Brenton Police Department and came to work at the insurance company’s Special Investigations Unit. “She’s on leave for the next three weeks. So as long as your poaching doesn’t last longer than that—”

“And if it did?”

I stood, no intention of allowing this conversation to continue. I hadn’t discussed my hopes to consult for the FBI with anyone at Foster Mutual—including my brother-in-law, who worked in the IT department—and didn’t plan on starting that conversation now. “I said I’ll be right there, Harry.”

Harry’s keen eyes stayed on Elliot for a beat before he turned to me. “Don’t forget, the president of the company is waiting for you.”

I flipped over my watch. Ten minutes late. I had the key fob, knew what was required, and only had the paperwork left. The rest was nothing more than curiosity. “I’ll be upstairs in two minutes, Harry.”

Chapter 18

Samantha

NomatterwhatIwanted, Kelsey was right. For this case, for this moment, I had a job. Receive the painting from Jason, help Antonio figure out the truth, and then meet with Fiori. But the way she’d reacted… If she was behind the delays in my security access with the FBI, maybe performing well in this operation would change her mind. Maybe she was the key to unlocking my future as a consultant.

I scanned the door in front of me, barely able to look at the nameplate with my ex-husband’s name on it. How many twists and turns would my life continue to take? Leaving the FBI due to grief over my mother’s death, running into a sham marriage with Matt to cover it up, and floating around the United States for six years after the divorce.

Fate kept bringing me back to where I’d began. Meeting with the FBI. Meeting with Matt.

I was stuck in a never-ending cycle, my goals still out of reach.

Not all your goals, Sam.I switched my promise ring to my right hand and put on the engagement ring. Marrying Antonio would be the right choice. I could do that. Right?

The door swung inward and I startled.

Matt stood there, close-cropped brown hair and beard, his perpetually furrowed brow just as furrowed as always. “Were you coming in? Or were you inspecting the door frame? You’re not going to tell me there’s some structural issue with it, are you?”

I waved the sarcasm off and walked in, carrying my laptop under my arm. The recording device weighed heavily in my pocket. Fiori was smart—that was clear from Elliot’s comments that they hadn’t been able to tie him to anything concrete yet. It wouldn’t be easy to get a confession out of him. This wasn’t a low-level criminal we were dealing with.

Last month, Matt had redecorated the office. It used to house his father’s giant mahogany desk, which was designed for intimidation. It suited Roger. Matt had chosen a paler wood, much smaller, and a casual meeting area with a low table and couches instead of office chairs. This suited him.

Matt and I sat on the couch next to each other, opposite Harry and Quinn. Quinn was the other member of our SIU team, and in some ways was a female version of Harry. Same age, same graying brown hair, same brown eyes. But despite the two of them talking as though they shared the same brain—picking up when the other slowed in speech—he was calm while she was emotion.

“Mother of Pearl, Samantha!” Quinn said when I sat my computer on the table. “That ring is gorgeous! And new! Spill the details.”

So much for keeping it under wraps. I should’ve left the ring in my pocket.

Or at home.

“No real details to share. Antonio got home Friday and popped the question.”

Quinn smirked at me. “Those are facts, not details.”

As usual, when Quinn started prying, Harry came to my rescue. “Quinn.”

“Oh please, you old stick in the mud. The girl just got engaged.”

“The woman doesn’t want to talk about it,” said Harry.

Undeterred, Quinn leaned forward and gave me a mock whisper. “Just tell me it was intensely romantic?”

Heat flushed through my cheeks. The lights, the flowers, the music. The dance. The sex on his patio. A different heat flooded through my body.

Quinn sat back on her coach. “Enough said.”

Matt cleared his throat. “Can we get down to business?”

How did he feel about this? He was the one who asked for the divorce. He was the one who’d fallen in love with someone else. Hell, after I found out he got remarried, I jumped out of a plane five times. Once for every year between the divorce and then.

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