“Hello?” Cameron answered.

  “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” I said, flustered. “I had no idea those messages weren’t private.”

  “They aren’t actively monitored. If that were the case, Kieran would’ve been fired months ago for constantly sending idiotic memes to everyone in the office. The messages are accessible by IT and Georgia though, and she sometimes likes to perform spot checks.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling relieved. Then I frowned. “Kieran sends memes?”

  “Don’t worry. You aren’t missing out on anything even remotely interesting,” Cameron said.

  “Well, it would be nice to be included.”

  “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” His question came out a little abrupt.

  “Um, no.”

  “Then I’d like to end this call and finish my lunch.”

  “Okay. You don’t need to be so rude about it.”

  There was a heavy exhale on his end. “You have a knack for making me feel…”

  Several beats of silence elapsed.

  I gripped the phone tightly, unable to take it any longer. “I have a knack for making you feel what?”

  “Remorseful.”

  “I do?”

  “Has anyone ever mentioned that you suffer from kicked-puppy syndrome?”

  “I have no idea what that is.”

  “It means you constantly put yourself in a position to have your feelings hurt, effectively making the other person feel like they’ve just kicked a puppy.”

  “Um…”

  “You’re far too open. You should practice more reserve when it comes to interactions with others. It will leave you in less of a position to be upset all the time.”

  “I’m not upset all the time,” I protested.

  “Were you upset today when I declined your offer to share lunch?”

  I didn’t respond, because the truth was behind all my panic about misinterpreted intentions, I had been hurt by his rejection.

  “You see,” Cameron said. “If you hadn’t put yourself out there, you wouldn’t have felt that way.”

  Again, I didn’t say anything. Then finally I replied, “Is that what you do? You keep yourself away from people so they can’t hurt you?”

  “No, I keep myself away from people because most people irritate me. In this case, I’m lucky because my disdain for most of humanity means I don’t ever feel inclined to put myself in a position of weakness.”

  “So, you’re saying I should be more like you?”

  “That is exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Okay, good chat.”

  “Goodbye, Maisie.”

  I put the phone down, annoyed. I would much rather be like me and get hurt than be like Cameron and never be upset by anyone. Being cranky and coarse with people was no way to live. Then again, being open and friendly hadn’t exactly gotten me very far. I had a grand total of three friends, two of whom were my own parents, and I hadn’t had a boyfriend in five whole years. Maybe Cameron was right and I should just go ahead and take all my natural instincts, throw them in the trash, then go and do the opposite.

  I was dwelling on this when my boss suddenly appeared at my desk.

  “Maisie, can I speak with you in private a moment?” Georgia asked.

  Nodding, I stood and followed her to her office. Had she decided today of all days to complete one of her spot checks on private messages? Was I in some sort of trouble? Or worse, was Cameron? After all, if it were to come out that we’d slept together, he was the one in the position of power. Everything about our night together had been completely consensual, but I knew how things could get twisted and I really didn’t want him to get into trouble. He didn’t deserve that.

  I inhaled a deep breath as I stepped inside her office, hoping beyond hope that this conversation was not going to be about what I thought it was.

  Four

  The Kiss

  December 17th - 19th

  “Please have a seat,” Georgia said after I closed the door behind me.

  I sat in the narrow leather upholstered chair and slid my hands under my thighs, feeling nervous. My boss checked something on her computer, then turned her attention to me. When she smiled, I relaxed a little. She wouldn’t be smiling if she’d asked me in here for something negative.

  “I’ve been very pleased with your work, particularly over the last six months. You’ve been an asset to the firm.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  “Kindness has nothing to do with it. Your work is stellar, which is why I want to offer you a promotion,” Georgia revealed.

  My eyebrows jumped. A promotion? But I was already the primary researcher. There wasn’t exactly a position to be promoted to.

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “We have an opening for a new investigator, and I think you’d be perfect.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. “An investigator? I’ll be honest with you, Georgia, I’m flattered to be considered, but I don’t think I’m the right sort of person for that.”

  “That’s exactly why you are the right person. You’re an unassuming, ordinary, friendly woman. People would never see you coming.”

  Ordinary? Jeez, thanks.

  Still, I understood what she meant. There were advantages to being someone who didn’t raise suspicions. I was aware I had an open, guileless sort of face, pleasant but not pleasant enough to be memorable. I dressed plainly and professionally, and I was always clean and well-groomed. It was why I never got searched going through security at the airport, and why I never got into trouble when I mistakenly walked out of a shop without paying.

  It was a sad fact that we often judged people purely on their appearance. I once witnessed a smartly dressed man in a suit walk right out of M&S one day carrying a punnet of satsumas he hadn’t paid for. If that same man had been bedraggled and homeless looking, I doubt he would’ve gotten the chance to leave without being confronted by a security guard.

  “You’re also smart as a whip,” Georgia went on. “I really think you could be an asset to us as an investigator. Plus, it pays substantially more than your current position.”

  Substantially more, huh? I’d always been good with my money, paid my bills on time, but it would be nice to have a little extra. Then Cameron popped into my head, which was happening all too often lately. If I took the promotion, we’d both be investigators. There wouldn’t be as much of an uneven power dynamic between us. Perhaps then we could explore the possibilities…

  Ugh, I really did have a crush on him, didn’t I? It was just so hard not to think about him, especially since it had been so long since I’d been with someone.

  I sucked in a deep breath and glanced at Georgia. “Can I have a few days to think about it? I really do love my work as a researcher, and this would be a big change for me.”

  “Of course,” she replied. “Take as much time as you need.”

  ***

  “Georgia wants to promote me to an investigator,” I told Lilah as I sat on the armchair in her living room eating takeout chicken chow mein. I’d come over after work to see how she was feeling. She currently sat on her couch, wrapped up in a duvet, her nose red and her eyes bleary as she sipped on some soup.

  “Really?” she sniffled. “That’s great. Are you going to take it?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “I think you should. You’d make an excellent investigator. You’re so nice, nobody would see you coming.”

  “That’s what Georgia said.”

  “Well then, you should believe her. She’s a clever lady.”

  We fell into silence, and I thought on what Cameron had said to me earlier over the phone.

  “Lilah?”

  A cough. “Yeah?”

  “Do you think I suffer from kicked-puppy syndrome?”

  She looked at me in confusion, too sick to question what I was talking about.

  I elaborated. “I was talking to Cameron today, and he said I have kicked-puppy syndrome. That I constantly put myself into a position to have my feelings hurt and then I make the other person feel bad about hurting them.”

  She appeared annoyed by this. Well, as annoyed as she could be in her current state. “If someone hurts your feelings, then they’re the dick, not you, Maisie. It’s their own fault if they feel guilty. That is such a typical thing for him to say. He’s trying to justify being an arse, putting the blame on the person he’s an arse to. I feel sorry for his wife, having to live with someone like that.”

  I looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Actually, he’s not married. I made a mistake. But…what if he’s right? What if I should be less nice to people? The other day Miles told me my mini cacti looked like a cock and balls.”

  Lilah almost spat out the spoonful of soup she’d just put in her mouth. “That little shit.”

  “You have to admit it’s funny though. But my point is, he would never say something like that to you, or to Cameron for that matter. He says it to me because he knows I’m a soft touch and he can get away with it.”

  “Hmm. Well, maybe you could stand to take a little less shit from people, but I’d never want you to change who you are. You’re a delight to be around. You came all the way over here to check on me while I’m sick. Not many people would go out of their way to do a good deed like that. It’s a special quality.”

  I smiled at her, feeling less self-conscious about my niceness when I saw it from her perspective. Besides, on a fundamental level, I was a nice person. Trying to change that would be exhausting. Maybe Cameron was the one who needed to change. Then again, I had to admit there was an allure to the way he was. He didn’t put on a fake persona just to please others. He was unapologetically himself and it was one of the things that drew me to him.

  I thought again of the promotion and how it could completely change our dynamic. Remembering our conversation at the party about money, sex, and power and how I’d claimed not to be particularly drawn by any of them, I realised that wasn’t entirely true. The promotion would bring me more money and in a way, more power, but it could also lead to the possibility of more sex with Cameron Grant, and that indeed was a powerful combination.

  Suddenly, the idea of becoming an investigator was a whole lot more appealing.

  ***

  The next day at work, I was still mulling over the possibility of accepting Georgia’s promotion. I was on my way to make some copies of a report I’d just completed, stopping in my tracks when I heard faint sobbing. I rounded the corner and found Jenny sitting behind the photocopier, crying her eyes out. And yes, this was the same Jenny who’d completely ignored me at the Christmas party.

  “Um, are you okay?” I asked softly.

  She looked up and brought a crumpled tissue to her nose to wipe at her snotty tears. “No, I’m not okay. Mr. Grant just completely tore me to shreds in a meeting.”

  Concerned, I pulled a clean tissue from my pocket and knelt down to hand it to her. She took it and dabbed at her eyes. “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He called me a blithering idiot in front of a client because I’d neglected to look into one of the primary characters in the investigation.”

  “Oh.”

  She frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. My cat died last week, and I’ve been beside myself. Fluffy was fifteen years old. She was more than a cat to me—she was like a person, a best friend.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jenny.” I patted her shoulder. All of a sudden, she threw herself into my arms, weeping. I froze, then gently put my arm around her. We’d never exactly been friends, so the fact that we were hugging right now was weird, but I understood she was upset and needed someone to comfort her.

  “Mr. Grant is like that with all of us. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s made me want to cry over the years.”

  She continued to sob into my blouse, and I was certain there was going to be a wet stain. Finally, she drew away, peering at me shyly. “Thank you for, um, the hug.”

  “It’s fine. We all have our moments.”

  “I haven’t always been very nice to you.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, mostly because it was true. I waved her off. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Her face was etched with sympathy now. “You’re so much kinder than anyone else who works here. But everyone just ignores you. You deserve better.”

  I knew she meant well, but her statement brought forth a faint echo of insecurity. I thought I was supposed to be the one feeling sorry for her, not the other way around. I shook off the feeling as we stood. Jenny pulled a slim compact mirror from her pocket to check her makeup. After spending a moment or two rubbing away her smeared mascara, she glanced at me sheepishly. “You won’t mention this to anyone, will you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Thank you, again. You’re the best, Maisie.”

  With that, she left, and I went about using the photocopier while contemplating the bizarreness of what just happened. Jenny was a tough cookie. I’d witnessed her hold her own during many an argument while working cases, yet Cameron had the ability to reduce her to a snivelling mess. It wasn’t right. There were ways to be forthright with criticism without tearing someone to shreds.

  I was almost done when someone said, “Oh, pardon me.”

  Speak of the devil, Cameron stood in the doorway. When he just stayed there staring at me, I arched an eyebrow.

  “I was looking for Rory. Have you seen him?” he asked.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Right.”

  “Can I help you with anything else?”

  Cameron kept glancing at my top then looking away, like he was trying not to stare. Confused, I looked down and saw the wet, see-through patch Jenny’s tears had made on my pale cream blouse. You could see right through to my lacey white bra. There were also a few dots of black mascara. I was going to have trouble getting those out.

  “It’s rude to stare.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, I apologise. It’s just—”

  “Do you know how my top got like this?” I said, suddenly irritated. I couldn’t believe that yesterday I’d actually been contemplating how to navigate the beginnings of a relationship with him. That I’d entertained feelings for a person who could be so completely callous with others. How could he push a colleague to tears, then just go about his day like nothing happened? It really bloody bothered me.

  I’d promised Jenny I wouldn’t tell anyone about her crying, but he needed to know that his actions had consequences for other people. “I just spent the last fifteen minutes consoling Jenny. I found her in tears because you insulted her in front of a client. Do you have any tact at all, or do you always just say exactly what’s in your head?”

  Cameron’s expression darkened. “Jenny did a poor job of the work she was assigned. I had every right to let her know.”

  “You called her a blithering idiot.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “In front of a client.”

  “That’s neither here nor th—”

  “And her cat just died.”

  Now he looked incredulous. “You expect me to treat her differently because she lost a cat? It’s just an animal.”

  “Animals are people, too.”

  “I think you’ll find they aren’t.”

  “I think you’ll find they are. Also, you’re a dickhead,” I blurted then immediately put my hand over my mouth. Had I actually just said that? It seemed after all these years of being nice to people, Cameron was the one to make me snap.

  He took several strides toward me until I was backed up against the wall.

  Oh, hell. Now I was in for it.

  He stared me down. “What did you just call me?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s not what I heard.”

  “Perhaps you need to see an ear doctor. I believe they give you a discount for the first visit.”

  “Maisie.”

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up.”

  A second later, his lips crashed onto mine. I had an outer-body moment where I wondered if this was really happening. Then I gasped and sighed when his tongue slid into my mouth, coaxing mine to respond. His body was hard against me as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. However much he might frustrate me in real life, when Cameron kissed me, I forgot all about how aggravating he could be.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for days,” he rasped as he sucked on my earlobe. Then he ran his mouth over my neck to lick and nip at my jaw.

  Um, what? WHAT?

  My body turned to jelly as my head fell back against the wall. Luckily, the photocopier was in a small room at the back of the office, affording us some privacy. Still, anyone could happen by at any time.

  I needed to stop this right now.

  But then Cameron was kissing me again, and I couldn’t think straight. His hands were all over me, and I felt his hunger in the way he groaned when he massaged my breast over the top of my clothes. I sensed his desperation, like his lonely heart yearned for mine even if he’d never admit it.

  Yes, Cameron Grant was just as lonely as I was. I could feel it. He longed for human connection, but he also denied it to himself for reasons I couldn’t quite discern.

  His hands wandered down to grip my backside, and the next thing I knew he was lifting me up onto the photocopying machine. His mouth laid siege to mine, and I was lost in him until I heard footsteps approach.

  Quick as a flash, I jumped down, fixed my clothing back into place and focused intently on the sheets of paper I’d just copied my report onto. They were still warm from the copier, so we couldn’t have been kissing for that long. It was just hard to tell time when Cameron’s mouth was on me. I hated myself for succumbing to his kiss when I was still angry at his behaviour with Jenny. But he’d kissed me so ferociously my lips were sore; he’d kissed me like he was starved for it.

  Did he actually…fancy me? I mean, he had slept with me after all. Maybe the alcohol hadn’t played as big a factor in it as I thought. A pleasurable feeling swept through me. What could I say? It was nice to be desired, even if the person who desired me needed a lesson or two in interpersonal relations.