“Is that what you like? Little black dresses?” I questioned.

  He bristled. “We’re not talking about me. We’re generalising.”

  “Well, I think you’ll find that a lot of men are more evolved nowadays. I’m sure some of them prefer comfy rompers to little black dresses that show lots of skin.”

  “That’s true, but would you consider men who cheat on their wives evolved?”

  Dammit. He had me there. I redirected the conversation. “We don’t necessarily have to be talking about men. Lots of women cheat, too.”

  “Yes, and if we were trying to catch a wife cheating on her husband today, then I would be the honeytrap,” Cameron countered.

  “Oh my God, she wouldn’t stand a chance,” I blurted and was surprised to see his cheeks flush the tiniest bit.

  I looked away, changing the subject. “Are we waiting for him to leave the house so that we can follow and see where he goes?”

  Cameron nodded. “Our client suspects her husband has been seeing another woman when he says he’s going to the gym. He’s a computer programmer who works from home, so he usually works out mid-morning. It’s a joint gym membership, but the wife doesn’t go very often. A few weeks ago, she decided to try out a spin class and the receptionist casually commented that she hadn’t seen her husband in a while.”

  “So she thinks he’s cheating because he’s not going to the gym anymore? He could just be secretly driving to the bakery to eat cakes instead of working out.”

  “Yes, well, today we’re going to find out.”

  A few minutes later, a dark-haired, middle-aged man emerged from the house. He wore sports gear and had a gym bag slung over his shoulder. When he got in his car and pulled out of the drive, Cameron started his engine and surreptitiously followed.

  We were driving for about ten minutes when the man turned into a McDonald’s drive-thru.

  I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “Ha! I called it. He’s secret eating when he’s supposed to be at the gym.”

  Cameron didn’t say anything as he followed him into the drive-thru and swore under his breath when he realised we’d have to order something. He rolled down his window. “I’ll take a black coffee,” he said gruffly.

  “And two double cheeseburgers and a large fries,” I added. “Oh, and a medium Coke.”

  I swear if Cameron scowled any harder his forehead would crack. “Hungry, are we?”

  I flashed a smile. “Famished.” There was a part of me that loved winding him up.

  “It’s barely eleven.”

  “I only had a small breakfast. Besides, we’ve just solved the case. If that doesn’t call for a celebratory Mickey D’s, I don’t know what does,” I said teasingly.

  “We haven’t solved anything yet,” he griped as he pulled up to the window to pay.

  I tried to hand him some cash, but he wouldn’t accept it. The girl behind the window handed us a bag of food and our drinks. I took a long swig of Coke while Cameron kept on the husband’s tail. The man drove to a residential area and parked outside a pretty period house covered in ivy. He got out, carrying his bag of McDonald’s and knocked on the door. A woman around his age answered. She pulled him into a hug before laying a big, very non-platonic kiss on his mouth. Cameron already had his long-lens camera out, snapping shots to show the client. When the man and woman went inside, he put the camera away.

  “Well, that was an interesting turn of events,” I said after a stretch of silence.

  “Sometimes the most obvious explanation isn’t always the right one. Sure, you can make assumptions, but you also need to cover all your bases.”

  “Huh,” I said.

  “Think of it this way,” Cameron went on. “If the solution to a problem is revealed too fast and feels too convenient, you’re sceptical, right?” I nodded. “When something feels that way to me during an investigation, I keep digging. Even if it means I lose a few hours looking into a dead end, it’s still better than going back to a client with the wrong information.”

  “That’s smart,” I replied, chewing on my lip as I looked back to the house. “I feel sorry for his wife.”

  “At least now she’ll know the truth,” Cameron said. “It’s not our job to feel sorry for people. It’s our job to lay out the facts for them, to discover the truth no matter if sometimes it’s an ugly one.”

  I studied him a moment. “You’re really into this whole truth thing, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t see the merit in lying. I’ve been lied to in the past and it didn’t turn out well for anyone involved.”

  Who lied to him? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to seem nosy.

  “Telling the truth can hurt though. I’m sure our client will be hurt when she finds out about her husband,” I said.

  “Some pain is necessary. Once she knows he’s cheating, she can decide whether to give him another chance or file for a divorce. When you lie to people you take away that power to decide, to make sense of things in their own way.”

  I got a strange feeling that he was speaking from personal experience, but again, I didn’t want to pry. We sat in silence for another minute. I was the one to break it, broaching a new subject, “Lilah told me Jenny tried asking you to go for a drink last night.”

  It took him a moment to say something. “Yes.” A pause as his jaw worked. “I think she took it badly.”

  “Maybe you could talk to her, explain—”

  “You convincing me to smooth things over with Jenny is what led to this crush,” Cameron interrupted. “So no, thank you for the advice, but I won’t be explaining anything.”

  I frowned to myself, but I guess he was right. Being kind to everyone didn’t always turn out so great. “Okay. Point taken. I just have one question.”

  “Which is?” he said with a beleaguered expression.

  “Are we going to eat these burgers or what? They smell way too good not to eat.”

  It felt like a triumph when I saw some of his stiffness thaw, the barest whisper of a smile gracing his lips. “I suppose an early lunch couldn’t hurt,” he allowed.

  I grinned. “I knew you weren’t all bad.”

  We sat and ate cheeseburgers and fries in his car, a companionable silence between us.

  All things considered, this whole apprenticeship thing was getting off to a pretty good start. I was learning things from Cameron, but what he didn’t realise was that his lessons revealed little things about him, too. I collected every tiny titbit, stored it away for further pondering. Perhaps by the end of my training period, I’d finally discover exactly what made Cameron Grant tick, and that was just as enticing as the prospect of starting a whole new profession.

  Nine

  The Lunch Date

  January 14th

  It was Monday morning and I arrived into work armed with some intriguing knowledge. Yesterday, after I arrived home from dinner at Mum and Dad’s, I’d gotten caught with the mystery bug. Cameron’s teachings had made me even more curious to know if something untoward was going at Trinkets & Treasures. I knew it was none of my business, but there was a part of me that was still unsure if I was cut out to be an investigator. I felt like if I could prove to myself my instincts were correct about Harrington then maybe I was suited for the job.

  So, I pulled out my laptop and started doing some research. I ran into a number of dead ends until I discovered something curious, a website that had the same IP address as the online store for Trinkets & Treasures.

  I couldn’t wait to tell Cameron all about it. So much so that I almost forgot today was Damien’s first day at the office. My replacement was waiting for me when I arrived at my desk.

  “Hello!” I greeted. “I’m just going to go grab you a chair before we start.”

  “Great, thanks,” Damien replied, cool as a cucumber. He didn’t look at all nervous for his first day. I envied people who were like that, since I was always an anxious wreck on the first day of a new job.

  I couldn’t seem to locate a chair. Then I remembered Cameron had a spare one in his office. I knocked gently on his door before stepping inside. He lifted his head from his computer.

  “Maisie?”

  “Hey, I need a favour. Could I borrow one of your chairs just for today? I’m starting Damien’s training.”

  Cameron’s attention went to where Damien was waiting for me out by my desk. He nodded. “Don’t forget to bring it back.”

  “I won’t. Thanks so much,” I said, smiling wide.

  Cameron’s eyebrow arched. “It’s just a chair, Maisie.”

  I flushed a little. “I know that.”

  I went to grab the chair, and Cameron stood. We tried to pick it up at the exact same moment, our arms brushing.

  “Sorry.”

  “I’ll carry it out for you,” he offered, eyes going to the button that was open at the top of my blouse for a second before he averted his gaze.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat. “Also, before I forget, are you going to be in the office for lunch?”

  He held up the chair. “No. I have plans.”

  “Oh,” I said, wondering what his plans were. “Well, could we talk for a few minutes before you leave? I’ve made an interesting discovery.” I paused to whisper, “It’s about our secret project.”

  His lips shaped into something akin to amusement. “Our secret project?”

  “You know, about Harrington. I have some information that I think will be of great interest to you.” I gave a conspiratorial wink.

  “You do?” Now he definitely looked amused.

  I folded my arms. “Let’s just say it’s quite the development.”

  “I guess I’ll see you before I head out for lunch, then.”

  “Sounds good,” I said as we reached my desk and Cameron set the chair down. I doubted it was very heavy, but I still admired the way his muscles moved under his shirt.

  “Hello, Mr. Grant. We met in my interview,” Damien greeted.

  “Mr. Holt. Congratulations on your new position,” Cameron replied evenly, giving Damien a quick look up and down before returning to his office.

  I suspected he was still slightly peeved that Georgia hadn’t chosen Rosa for the job.

  “I don’t think he likes me very much,” Damien said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

  “Oh, don’t worry about Cameron. He’s like that with everyone,” I reassured him, and we sat down.

  “I thought he might be a little wary of the bloke who’s going to spend the next week working side by side with his girlfriend.”

  I blinked at him, flustered. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

  Damien seemed surprised. “No? I could’ve sworn I got that vibe. The old radar must be off.”

  “Must be,” I said, my laugh coming out a tad too high-pitched. “Anyway,” I went on, switching into work mode because the idea of my and Cameron’s chemistry being so obvious had my nerves ratcheting up. “I guess I’ll start by showing you how the database works.”

  “Cool,” Damien said. “By the way, I hope you don’t find this weird, but I actually remember you.”

  I glanced at him, confused. “You remember me?”

  “From college. I was a first year when you were in your final year.”

  “Oh!” I said, then frowned. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you. Then again, that final year was intense. I had my head stuck in a book for most of it.”

  So this was why he’d kept shooting me smiles during his interview. He knew me from college. I had to admit it was a relief to know they hadn’t been a poorly timed attempt at flirting.

  “Yeah, those final exams were rough,” Damien agreed. “How bizarre is it that we ended up working at the same place?”

  I smiled. “Pretty bizarre. Though the world of research and library sciences is a small one.”

  “Definitely.”

  I spent the rest of the morning teaching Damien the ropes, then headed to Cameron’s office at 1 p.m. on the dot. I closed the door behind me, bursting at the seams to tell him my discovery. He held up a finger, then finished typing something on his computer before he looked up.

  Clasping his hands together, he leaned back casually in his seat. “Well, what did you want to tell me?”

  Ugh, why did he have to be so sexy?

  Usually, I’d take a seat, but he didn’t have a spare chair anymore since I’d borrowed it for Damien. Feeling slightly awkward, I leaned down and placed my hands on the edge of his desk. I realised my new position afforded him a little too much of a view down my blouse when his attention automatically went in that direction. I quickly straightened and folded my arms, clearing my throat.

  “I was doing some digging on Harrington over the weekend,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Cameron’s indecipherable looks had quite the dizzying effect on me. “I discovered a website with the same IP address as the one for the jewellery store.”

  One dark eyebrow rose. “And?”

  I took a step closer, wiping my somewhat sweaty palms on my skirt. “It’s for an exclusive, weekend-long treasure hunt on the grounds of a stately home. You know how people go to those murder mystery themed events, or retreats where you dress up like you’re from the Regency era? Well, it’s sort of like that, I think.”

  “Doesn’t sound very suspicious,” Cameron replied. “People indulge in all sorts of strange past times.”

  “Tell me about it. I once watched a documentary about people who dress up and pretend to be animals, going around barking and growling and such. They call themselves Furries. So weird.”

  His lips twitched in amusement.

  “Anyway,” I went on, clearing my throat. “There’s very little information about the treasure hunt on the home page, and you can’t access the rest of the site without a login name and password. I considered trying to hack the system but decided against it.”

  Cameron tilted his head. “I didn’t know you could hack.”

  “I can’t really. I know the basics, and I like to keep up to date with all the latest coding practices in my spare time.”

  At this he gave a low, teasing chuckle. “That sounds riveting.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Like you hang out in punk clubs doing lines of cocaine on your days off.”

  “No, I spend most of my spare time out on my boat, which I’m pretty sure is a lot more fun than learning computer code.”

  “Well, as they say, it’s different strokes for different folks. Do you want to know the rest or what?”

  Cameron gestured with his hand for me to continue.

  “So, it costs £3000 per couple, with diamonds worth £50,000 as the grand prize. That’s a lot, right?”

  “It’s a substantial prize,” Cameron agreed. “But if they’re selling tickets for 3K a pop, they’re probably making a decent profit.”

  “It’s invite only, but you can fill out an application form to attend. I think they vet you and then decide if you’re acceptable enough to be invited.”

  “That is generally how the elites operate.”

  “I might’ve filled out the form,” I confessed, chewing my lip nervously.

  Cameron blinked. “You did what?”

  “I know I shouldn’t have. It’s not like I’m going to pay that much money for a silly treasure hunt for posh people. I just want to see what the invite says, if it gives any more information. Like I said, the website is pretty sparse on details.”

  Cameron was silent a moment, considering me, before he replied, “You have a point. Let me know if you get invited.”

  There was a knock on the office door and a man and woman entered. “Sorry, I hope we aren’t interrupting,” said the woman.

  “You aren’t. We’re just finished here,” Cameron replied, eyes going from me to the woman.

  She had long, curly brown hair, and the man at her side was slim, dark-haired and attractive. Were they clients? The woman seemed familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I knew her from.

  “Hi. I’m Ellen,” she said. “I’m Cameron’s sister. And this is my husband, Julian.”

  His sister! This was the woman I’d once mistaken for Cameron’s wife. I felt a surge of embarrassment at the memory. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Maisie. I, uh, work here.” Ugh! Could I be any more awkward?

  “It’s nice to meet you, Maisie.” Ellen smiled. “We were just heading out for lunch. Would you like to join us?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t intrude,” I said, even though the idea of getting to know Cameron’s sister interested me greatly. Quizzing her on what he was like as a child could be fun.

  “You wouldn’t be intruding,” her husband, Julian, put in. “In fact, the more, the merrier.”

  “I’m sure Maisie already has lunch plans,” Cameron interjected. Normally, I might’ve been offended by him trying to get rid of me, but I got a sense that Cameron was a little shy for me to meet his sister. There was the tiniest tinge of red in his cheeks, a stiff set to his mouth, which I found endearing.

  “Actually,” I said, feeling confident. “I don’t.”

  Cameron shot me a broody look, but I only smiled in return.

  “Well then, it’s decided. You’ll come with us,” Ellen said. “We’re just going to the café down the street.”

  I went to grab my handbag and coat from my desk, then joined them by the lift. Cameron wore an uncomfortable expression, which made me wonder if perhaps I shouldn’t have pushed his buttons by accepting his sister’s invitation to come to lunch. I’d thought it was a lighthearted thing, but maybe I’d crossed a boundary.

  “I can make some excuse and leave,” I offered quietly as we walked behind Ellen and Julian toward the café.

  He glanced at me. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you look like you’re about to complete an hour of court-ordered community service.”

  At this, he almost cracked a smile. “Don’t be a smart arse.”

  That almost smile etched itself into my heart. Cameron’s expressions of happiness were so few and far between that I kept them all secreted away, to swoon and obsess over in my free time.

  “So, you’re not mad at me?” I hedged.