Gianna frowned at the data, then at the other numbers. “Well, I’ll…!” she stopped, not remembering the English word. She’d been slipping into Italian a lot lately. She hurriedly printed out the data in question before rushing down the long hallway.
“Is he free?” she asked Todd, pausing outside of Brant’s office.
Todd opened his mouth to respond, but a deep voice echoed from the open office door. “Come in, Gianna!” he bellowed.
Gianna cringed, wondering what she’d done wrong this time.
“Someone is stealing from you,” she announced, slapping the report down on the desk in front of him. She moved around to the side where he was sitting, leaning over so that she could explain. “I figured out why the data was wrong this past weekend. See these numbers? And these show someone is buying extra ingredients, only to sell them a few days later. This,” she continued, pointing to a delivery truck entry, “is when the ingredients leave the warehouse. And this…” she pointed to a list of employees, “is everyone who was working on these particular days.”
Gianna stopped, looking down at him to see if he understood what she was saying. But he wasn’t looking at the data. He was looking up at her. And was that…she swallowed, thinking that perhaps it was admiration in his eyes. Admiration and…something more. That sizzling, powerful sensation hit her and she wasn’t sure what to do with it.
Pulling back, she stepped out of his way, not sure how to handle Brant Jones. He was too confusing. Italian men, she understood. Most American men, they looked at her breasts and she understood them. But Brant…he didn’t and she didn’t. And that scared her and thrilled her at the same time.
Retreat!
Stepping further back, she waved at the report. “Anyway, do with that information what you will,” she announced and walked towards the door to his office. “If you need more evidence, I will cross check the list of names and come up with more.”
“That’s okay,” he stood up. His hands slid into his pockets and he nodded down towards the reports. “This is excellent work, Gianna. I’m impressed.”
She’d almost made it to the door of his office. Had she heard him correctly? Had he just complimented her?
Back in her office, she packed up for the night, wondering if she could…if maybe…
Still confused, Gianna closed her laptop and…just before she left, she remembered the secret papers she’d printed out. Turning left instead of right, she pulled the potentially embarrassing papers off of the printer. Even as her eyes moved down the page, she didn’t understand what was on them. The words made absolutely no sense and the statistics…what did they mean? They were absolute gibberish!
Brant would know what they meant. But there was no way she would go to him. He would…she shuddered, thinking about the man. Nope. He could never know about this information.
She rushed down the hallway. But just before she was about to turn the corner, she stopped and looked towards Brant’s office. There he was! The man stood in his doorway, his hands still in his pockets, watching her. She wondered briefly if he’d been talking to Todd. But Todd came out of another office, heading in the opposite direction.
Why was Brant just standing there? Why…why did he have to be so handsome?! And so enigmatic!
Yeah, that was one of the words she’d learned last night and as soon as she’d read the word, Gianna realized it suited Brant perfectly.
Breaking free from his gaze, Gianna realized that she was still holding the papers with the odd data in her hands and quickly stuffed them into her tote so that he wouldn’t suspect what she was doing. With a guilty glance in his direction, she hurried towards the elevators. As she reached out, Gianna noticed that her finger shook and she pulled her hand back, glancing around to make sure no one else had noticed. There were several other staff members around her, but they were focused on their phones or their conversations. Several of them smiled at her and two of the ladies included her in their conversation while everyone waited for the elevator to arrive. But as Gianna unlocked her car, she had absolutely no recollection of the conversation at all. She might have agreed to sell her first born child or just a lunch date.