“Thanks. That means a lot to me. Unfortunately, Anna doesn’t have metaphorical balls, either. So I don’t know what to do. Besides, she reports to Brenda Keller.”

  Who would probably tell her not to talk. Sloan is in a bad spot, and I need to help her so she can help me. The key to understanding how to keep Reservoir from pitching to Wynam is to understand what the fuck is going on with the company financially.

  Then inspiration strikes, mostly because I’ve used this tactic a time or two. “Have you tried approaching the VPs’ assistants? Not the directors or managers who report to them but their admins?”

  “No, but that’s brilliant. I know Perez’s assistant, Carissa, is getting married, but her girl squad is out east in Kilgore, so she’s feeling alone and stressed in the big city. I could invite her for a girls’ night and see what she knows.”

  “Exactly. The worst that can happen is you find out she’s clueless, but at least you’ll have had a good time and maybe made a connection.” At least that was always my philosophy when I used to schmooze girls in college for help with tests and term papers. We’d study together while hooking up, so they were happy to help me. When the project or class was over, we would be, too. None of them ever seemed butt-hurt, and I always did my best to leave them with a smile.

  “I like it. If I strike out there, I’ll try someone else. Smith’s admin is his sister, so I don’t think I’ll get anywhere with her, but Roop’s is this guy named Ryan, who just moved to town.”

  Instantly, I picture her with some handsy player, and I scowl. “You don’t have to compromise your ethics.”

  “By doing what, sleeping with him?” She laughs. “First, I wouldn’t. Second, I’m pretty sure he’s gay. He keeps a Henry Cavill calendar in his office, tucked discreetly where no one walking by can see it, but it’s there.”

  That makes me breathe a sigh of relief. Then I tell myself to stop being ridiculous. I shouldn’t care if this woman I’ve never even met spends her downtime getting horizontal with some guy.

  But I do.

  If Sloan didn’t work for Reservoir, and if I wasn’t the swaggering asshole-ish sidekick of Satan gainfully employed by their competitor…and deceiving her for purely business reasons, I think we’d get along. Hell, we have chemistry. I bet we’d have amazing sex.

  Down that mental path leads nowhere helpful.

  “You’re probably right about Ryan,” I tell her.

  “Sadly, but at least he has good taste in men.”

  “Does he?” I can’t resist poking fun. “You think Henry Cavill is hot?”

  “Um…yeah. If you don’t, you’re blind.”

  I snort. “I don’t think at all about whether a guy is hot.”

  Sloan pauses. “But you think about whether a guy isn’t hot?”

  “I have to. All those guys are my competition.”

  “They are not. When I mentioned to Smith this morning that you and I had talked Friday night about the report, he told me that if I was flirting, I was barking up the wrong tree because you have a girlfriend. So you don’t have to worry about other guys anymore.”

  Shit. I’d almost forgotten that I’m Jeremy.

  “But I do. Aria and I split up.” I’m purposely vague because I don’t have the details, and I’m pretty sure Jeremy only told me the ugly truth because we’re buddies. So I change the subject. “But even if we hadn’t, every guy is potential competition. Our egos need to be fed, after all.”

  “Oh, right. Of course…” She sighs. “And people wonder why I’m not attached. I always thought it was because I found beings with a penis to be needy, self-absorbed wastes of my time. But maybe I just don’t understand them as well as I should.”

  I have to laugh. “Clearly, you don’t. I’ll school you after we solve your organizational problems.”

  “Sure. Okay,” she says with heavy sarcasm. “Let’s get back to business.”

  “Any other admins you can hit up?”

  “Brenda Keller has a new one. I think she’s been with the organization for all of three weeks, so I’m not expecting anything from her. Our Marketing VP, Jim Steinhoff, is a real jerk. So is his admin. But now that I’m thinking below the VP level, I’ve got some ideas about directors and managers… I doubt any of them have the whole puzzle, but I’d bet they each have pieces. If I talk to enough of them, maybe I can grasp what’s going on.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Truly. Sloan is so dedicated. She could have simply decided that if the organization wanted to fuck itself, she would draw a paycheck as long as possible and not worry until the ride ended. But no, she’s trying to toss Reservoir a life raft. I admire that. “Let me know what you find out.”

  “I will. Thanks. I needed help thinking outside the box.”

  I doubt that. This strategy would have occurred to her eventually; I just speeded up the process. “You’re welcome. What will you do if you get the information you need and it’s not good? What can you do?” Go to Daddy? Would Bruce Rawson listen?

  “I have ideas. Give me a little time, and I’ll figure it out.”

  I don’t doubt that. It’s not helpful, but my respect for Sloan goes up again. It’s really beginning to suck that we’ll never be on the same team.

  Four days later, I’m feeling more than a little antsy that I haven’t heard a word from Sloan. On the one hand, I’ve been busy trying to find out exactly what Reservoir is planning with regard to overseas expansion—and thus pitching to our prospective client. But everyone I contacted, under the guise of consulting, is businesslike and tight-lipped on the subject.

  I could email Sloan and ask. She’s a professional; she would reply promptly with what she knows.

  But I’d rather hear her voice.

  If I’m being honest, I’m dying to talk to her.

  At three o’clock in Maui, I break down and dial her number. Either she’s been quiet because she’s still at the office and up to her eyeballs or something is up. I need to find out which. After all, I have to keep my source of information talking, right?

  Nice rationalization.

  Thankfully, Sloan answers on the second ring. “Hey, McBride.”

  I would object to being called by a last name, except it’s no better if she calls me Jeremy. Admittedly, I’ve fantasized about her crying out in ecstasy while I’m deep inside her, and never once in my head was she screaming any name except mine.

  “O’Neill. You’ve been awfully quiet lately.”

  “Schmoozing secrets is hard work.”

  “Is it?” I play dumb. Honestly, it can be fucking brutal.

  “I’m exhausted.”

  “Any progress?”

  “In a nutshell, no. Your sixth sense must be working, because a few minutes ago, I emailed you some documents I managed to sweet-talk from counterparts in other areas of the organization. I doubt any of it is helpful, but you take a peek.”

  Since I’ve spent most of my day in Evan’s office, I haven’t been near my computer. When I open her email and scan the attachment, I can’t disagree. “None of this tells us anything we didn’t already know.”

  “Exactly. I’m touching up my makeup now to go out with Carissa, Perez’s assistant, for girls’ night. She was thrilled when I invited her. Poor thing is really lonely. I didn’t know her mother passed recently. She’s been trying to shop for a wedding dress alone, but every time she realizes she’ll never have her mother’s opinion, she breaks down. She has a handful of weeks left to pick a gown before it will be too late. I’m going to try to help her through.”

  Sloan can be hard-nosed, but she’s also compassionate. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

  “Well, I’ll be gently prying, too. We’ll see if she’s willing to say anything about her department’s mystery fund.”

  “All you can do is your best.”

  Like I’ve been doing to find out when Reservoir plans to sell themselves to Wynam.

  “Yep. Oh, um…turns out Meredith Roop’s admin, Ryan, isn’t gay after all. He hung a Henry Cavill calendar in his office because he lost a bet.”

  “Did he think you’d asked him to lunch for personal reasons?”

  “Hoped more than assumed, I think. I kept things light and full of talk about the office, but I’m almost positive he doesn’t know anything. He’s the kind of person who would insist on reporting anything sketchy. And if he thought someone was embezzling, he would say so.”

  In other words, a dead end. “At least you know. So…you interested in him now that you know he doesn’t play for the other team?”

  “No. He’s a nice guy but not my type.”

  Don’t ask. Don’t you fucking ask. “Why?”

  Sloan sighs like she’s really loath to answer. “He just doesn’t have any balls. Metaphorical ones. I know he’s got literal ones but…around guys like him, I end up feeling as delicate as a steamroller. It’s not something I enjoy.”

  That makes sense. A woman with a strong sense of self and an implacable drive would want a strong partner in life. Is Sloan single because she hasn’t found her equal?

  Maybe. And maybe you’re it.

  And maybe I’m crazy, too. “Any other options?”

  “No. I wish you were here to help. I get the feeling you’re a lot more practiced at sweet-talk-with-a-point than I am.”

  I don’t dare tell her that she’s right, so I force a laugh. “But I’m not there, so you got any other ideas?”

  “Unfortunately, unless Carissa is full of information, I’ll still be in the dark by tomorrow. And all of this will have to wait because Shane Rawson called me into his office this morning.” She doesn’t sound pleased.

  Then again, why should she be? It must be shitty to stand in the same room with a man she’s related to—whom she can work absolute circles around—and know that, not only will he refuse to recognize her as family, he’ll probably be openly hostile if she squashes his undocumented projects.

  It would suck to be in her shoes.

  “And?” I prompt.

  “I got ‘voluntold’ to travel to Cleveland for the next two weeks. Shane claims he needs me to see how a tech company belonging to a buddy of his recently pitched to an overseas giant and secured the contract—”

  “Wait.” My heart stops. “So that’s something Reservoir will definitely be doing soon?”

  “Yeah. There’s a UK company expanding their footprint in London, so their storage needs are increasing. Little birdies have told me that Stratus already pitched and that Satan—I mean, Evan Cook—and his swaggering asshole of a sidekick have spoken to this company. Apparently, it went well, so the bar is high, but I think our product is better for them. They don’t have many offices to service, and the CEO of this company likes the idea of being able to see where his data is backing up.”

  Holy shit. I had to infiltrate her organization to get the scoop on my competition, but she has spies somewhere who have already told her about our meeting with Wynam? Fuck. I need to stop mooning over Sloan and step up my game.

  “Do you have new products to pitch to this potential customer?”

  “Yep. They’re almost ready to roll. That’s what we’ve been waiting for. I’ve done the heavy lifting. As soon as testing and documentation are complete, I’ll be helping the organization roll out this new server technology, and we’ll be in a great position to grab this big customer. Frankly, I think we have a leg up on Stratus.”

  “That’s great,” I manage to choke out. “Would you like me to roll through the product specs? The pitch? I can help you refine everything.”

  And I’ll know exactly what you’re doing.

  “It’s top secret for now, but I’ll be back week after next. We can talk in-depth then. And now I’ve got to go. Carissa is waiting.”

  Damn. Damn. Damn. “Have fun tonight.”

  “I will. Thanks. I’ll probably be up to my eyeballs while I’m gone, so I’ll talk to you once I’m back home.”

  “Hang on.” I can’t just let her end this call and leave her free to perfect her pitch. Evan tasked me with stopping this. I promised him. I owe him for my stupid heart tripping all over Becca. But my heart is only proving it’s dumber than ever, because I’m weirdly panicked at the thought of not talking to Sloan two whole weeks. “If you need me for anything at all—even an ear while you unwind and drink vino after hours—I’m here.”

  “Thanks.” Her voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. “There are days around here where I feel like I could sure use a friend. Maybe it makes no sense, but you feel like you could be one. Talk to you soon.” She sounds reluctant to hang up, but she does.

  After that, days drag by—fourteen of them. I try not to think about Sloan. God knows I have enough work that I should be too busy to think about anything else. But nope. Despite pushing myself hard in the gym, going full throttle at the office, then working well past dinner, the minute my head hits the pillow, she’s there.

  Why? What does it mean? What the fuck is wrong with me?

  The most likely culprit? I need to get laid. It’s been too long. But I’m unmoved to change it.

  When my phone rings a couple of Sunday mornings later, it’s unexpected. But seeing Sloan’s number on my display is welcome as hell. “Hey! You finally back from Cleveland?”

  “Do you have a minute?” She sounds near tears.

  I walk away from the weights I’d been ready to deadlift and make my way to a quiet hallway of the gym. “Sure. What happened, baby?”

  The endearment slips out. I only meant to make her feel better, but I brace for her to bite my head off. She doesn’t. Because she doesn’t mind pet names…or because she’s too distraught to care?

  Sloan simply dissolves into a loud, heaving sob. “Everything is horrible, and I don’t know what to do. This will sound crazy, but you’re the only other person who seems to care whether Reservoir succeeds.”

  “Who did what to you?” When I find out, I’ll rip their heart out and their balls clear from their body.

  I don’t stop to ask myself why I’m so pissed on her behalf and feeling protective. I know it’s not smart. Just like I know she’s a strong, capable person. But I can’t seem to shove down the haze of red in my vision.

  Someone fucked with my woman.

  Whoa. Dial that back by a thousand, Romeo.

  I try. I really, really do. Until Sloan starts crying again.

  “You signed an NDA, right?” she sobs.

  Of all the questions to ask… I can only assume she’s going to tell me something juicy and potentially useful that’s ripping her heart out.

  Fuck.

  “Yeah.” Well, I’m sure Jeremy did.

  “Are you sitting down?”

  No, but she doesn’t need to worry about me. I’m convinced, however, that I have every reason to worry about her. “Sure.”

  “You’re a terrible liar,” she sobs.

  Oh, fuck. Does she know I’m Satan’s swaggering asshole sidekick, after all?

  “Baby?”

  “I’m so stupid. I flew back home on Friday afternoon. Carissa called and asked if we could get together this weekend. She said she had something for me that she ran across on Perez’s desk. She wasn’t supposed to see it. Tech’s FY Initiative? Apparently, that means Fuck Yeah.”

  “I don’t understand.” What is she saying?

  “Oh, it gets better. The PPP Fund Marketing set up? That means Party, Party, Party. That’s what Shane is using all the cash in those funds to do. Millions of dollars devoted to having a good time. Want to know specifically what he’s spending that money on? Look no further than HR’s very prestigious H-and-B Reserve.”

  Suddenly, I know exactly what that stands for. “Hookers and Blow?”

  “Yep. See, you’re a smart guy. You should be here, untangling this mess and saving this company. Our profits are literally going to sex workers and up our executives’ noses. I’m told that as soon as he was given the CEO’s seat, Shane invited all of the VPs out for a weekend of ‘team building.’ And apparently, he has video of every one of them doing something blackmail-worthy. That’s why they’re all toeing the line. They don’t want to lose their families or get arrested.”

  I do my best to close my gaping mouth and support her. “This is fucking crazy. You know that, right?”

  “Absolutely. Our CEO intentionally put the most powerful people in our organization in a position to be blackmailed so he could bleed the profits from the company his father is unable to oversee. All so he can have a grand time at everyone else’s expense. It won’t be long before we’re bankrupt.”

  She’s right. I wanted Reservoir out of the way for Stratus’s sake. But not like this.

  “How can I help you?” I’m hard-pressed to see a way without betraying my boss and best friend, but I’ll try.

  “I don’t know.” Her voice hitches. “I don’t— The weight of this company is on my shoulders. Carissa gave me the information, but she didn’t really understand it. She thought she was just looking at some horribly compromising material. She doesn’t have the bigger picture of the financials. I guarantee no one else has dug into it. I can’t confront my boss about the fact I’ve seen footage of him balls deep in a stripper while his wife was home with their newborn.”

  “That’s knowledge he’d probably fight to keep secret. He’d discredit you in a heartbeat.”

  “I know. I’ve been up all night trying to decide what to do…”

  “Have you thought about calling Bruce Rawson?”

  Except for her shuddering breaths, she’s quiet for a really long time. “I can’t.”

  “I don’t see another choice.”

  “It’s complicated. It’s…” She lets out a frustrated huff. “Shit, I’ve come this far. You might as well know everything.”

  My heart stutters, and suddenly I know she’s going to confess. It’s bittersweet. I wanted Sloan to open up to me. Craved her trusting me enough to give me her truths. And what the fuck does that say about my feelings?

  But now that we’re here, I’m worried it’s too much, too soon for her. And once this genie is out of the bottle, she can never put it back in. Will she stop talking to me so she doesn’t have to confront the fact I know her dirty secrets? “Sloan… Baby, you don’t have to—”