15

HIS BODY TEMPERATURE BACK TO NORMAL, ETHAN sat before Ken’s desk, a half-empty sports drink in one hand, the Romcore file in the other. “So Brooke thinks Ted Troll had this signature forged?”

Ken sat forward and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “The signature on that bid is from a Ms. Marion Dailey.”

“I see that. Does Brooke know this lady?”

“Not well. Design Solutions is a relatively small firm in Estero, but they’ve attended some of the same tradeshow events in the past.”

“So how could she know her signature?”

Ken turned his computer screen around and pointed to a newspaper article covering a 2013 awards banquet. There was a picture of a middle-aged man wearing a garish, orange tuxedo holding his award in the air. “Because Marion Dailey of Design Solutions is a guy.”

Ethan closed his eyes, rubbing at the sudden tension between them. There had to be an explanation. Ted Troll was the president of a fairly large company. Why would he resort to forgery?

Ken continued from across the desk. “Brooke knows the project coordinator at Design Solutions. She called and confirmed that they never bid a project for Romcore.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“She thinks Mr. Troll was able to get his hands on our bid before it was actually shown to him. He came prepared with a forged bid on Design Solutions letterhead that looked like the real deal.”

“Can he go to jail for this?”

“Maybe for the forgery,” Ken said with a thoughtful roll of the eyes, “but that would be more Marion Dailey’s problem. Right now I have someone looking into whether Romcore actually owns the copyright to the textbooks he wants to print. Even if he provided proof, who’s to say that those wouldn’t be faked too?”

Brooke stuck her head in the door. “You wanted to see me?”

Ken gestured to the chair beside Ethan. “Shut the door and have a seat.”

When she appeared from behind him, Ethan sensed her stress. Their working relationship was in such a state of limbo, even he didn’t know what to think. He stared at her profile as she kept her attention solely on Ken.

“How did your meeting go?” Ken asked first.

“Fine,” she answered. “I was a little late.” Her eyes darted sideways in accusation.

Ethan kept his visage carefully blank. If his suspicions were right, Brooke was anything but a victim.

Ken leaned back in his chair, his expression extremely serene for a man whose headache should have returned in force. “Ethan and I were discussing timing,” he said.

Brooke cocked her head. “Timing, sir?”

“Yes. He found it strange that his unfortunate incident on the roof occurred just before his Romcore meeting.”

“There’s a brick by the door to keep it open,” Ethan said. “Someone nudged it out of the way and locked me out.”

“How do you know it didn’t just slip?” she asked, keeping her attention on Ken.

“Because I heard someone coming up the stairs before the brick was moved,” Ethan answered tightly.

Ken held up a silencing hand in Ethan’s direction. “Letreece was away from her desk around that time and can’t verify who entered the stairwell.”

“Are you accusing me?” Brooke asked outright.

“Not at all. More like ruling you out.”

She turned to Ethan, her green eyes cold. “I told you it wasn’t me. I was at my desk after I got back from lunch.”

“You understand,” Ken sat forward, regaining her attention, “with this competition between you two, Ethan would naturally suspect you first. We’re just trying to get the facts.”

“I understand.”

“Do you have reason to believe someone else would want him to miss his meeting? One of the other account specialists, perhaps?”

“I’m not exactly close with many of the employees here yet, sir,” she answered, her back ramrod straight. “But no, I haven’t heard or seen anything suspicious. Why don’t we consider other possibilities?”

Her transition from suspect to Sherlock Holmes left Ken with a barely contained smile. “By all means.”

“Maybe this was more of a move against me. As you said, I’d be the first suspect, especially since I’m the one who took Ethan’s place in that meeting.”

“Why would anyone bother?” Ethan asked.

“Maybe they want me fired,” she shot back.

It took a moment for Ethan to realize that maybe she was accusing him of framing her. Of all the…

“In this case, it worked out in everyone’s favor,” Ken broke in. “If Brooke hadn’t caught that one discrepancy, we would have eaten a lot of money and possibly earned ourselves future legal problems.”

“Easy for you to say,” Ethan grumbled. “Without that client, I’m screwed.” Not to mention that Brooke now basked in the glory of sainthood. “Why don’t we go over how Mr. Troll could have possibly gotten his hands on our bid?”

Now that the tension was effectively crackling, Ken blew out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It would have had to come from an internal source, someone with access to Shannon’s computer files or Ethan’s.”

“Wouldn’t it be obvious to suspect Shannon first?” Brooke’s suggestion came out quickly and with a hint of condescension.

“She wouldn’t do something like that,” Ethan said before downing the rest of his sports drink. He could feel her cutting gaze.

“Are we even discussing the same person?”

“Brooke,” Ken interrupted, “it’s just that we’ve known her for a very long time, much longer than you.”

“Of course. After all, you had no problem accusing me.”

Ethan capped the empty bottle. “You have motive and you also have Roger.”

She turned in her seat to face him squarely. “Roger has nothing to do with this, so leave him out of it.”

Defending a man she’d just caught screwing her worst enemy? “You sound very sure of that, Brooke.”

“Are you really that blind, Ethan? Or just that worried I may actually beat you?”

“Only if you beat me unfairly.”

“Alright!” Ken began to massage his temples. “I can see more orange cotton balls in my near future.”

Their shared laughter over the orange cotton balls earlier that day was all but a distant memory. Now that they were back at each other’s throats, Ethan couldn’t help but feel a loss over what could have been construed as progress in their tumultuous working relationship.

Ken rose from his chair and headed toward the blinds. “Why don’t you two call it a day?” he said as he closed them, blocking out the afternoon sun.

Ethan’s head snapped up. “I need every hour I can get, Ken, espe-cially now.”

“You can make it up tomorrow,” Ken snapped. “Both of you go home. That’s an order.” When they both stood up with reluctance, Ken indicated the switch by the door. “And turn off the lights on your way out.”

BROOKE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT WAS WORSE—THAT Ken suspected her of spying or that Ethan did. For one brief moment, they’d let their guard down around each other. They’d shared a laugh. To Brooke, it had been a sort of turning point, proof that they might actually like each other under different circumstances. Apparently, she’d read way more into it than he had.

If only she hadn’t offered to take Ethan’s place during that meeting. What had started as a harmless quest to make a point had come back to bite her in the ass. Even though she’d caught the forgery, doubt would linger in everyone’s minds as to whether or not she participated in some sort of sabotage.

She shoved her notes from the last meeting into her briefcase to work on at home. Hands shaking with the tumult of Ethan’s accusations, she shut everything down, turned off the lights, and gathered her things.

As she passed by Shannon’s door, she heard her name. Brooke stopped in mid-stride and backtracked to see what the woman could possibly want with her now.

Shannon crooked a manicured finger, her expression sparkling with mischief. Brooke entered the office with caution.

“I hear you’ve been a bad girl,” Shannon whispered.

The woman’s hypocrisy knew no bounds. It was almost as if Shannon wanted her to throw out a challenge.

Brooke whispered back, “I know you’re the one who locked Ethan on the roof.”

“It sounds to me like it was you.”

But the truth was written on Shannon’s amused countenance. Brooke knew no one would believe her without proof. Shannon was out to effectively make her a villain in the eyes of those who counted. Instead of rising to the bait, Brooke smiled. “Isn’t it funny how every time you interfere, I end up getting Ethan off one way or another?”

The woman’s smile disintegrated into a look of disgust. Brooke left her that way and made it to the door. “Oh, by the way…,” she looked back. “I want to thank you for preventing me from making a big mistake with Roger. Guess you actually fell on that sword, huh?”

GREAT, WHAT A HELL OF A FUCKING DAY. HE GETS locked on the roof, loses his biggest account, and is forced to go home as punishment for daring to turn the spotlight on Saint Brooke.

Ethan shut down his computer and stared at the black screen for a while. Until Brooke could come up with some proof she was telling the truth, there would never be peace between them. That’s all there was to it.

“I hear you have to go home,” Shannon said behind him.

Ethan straightened up and scanned the main work area for the woman on his mind. “Guess I’m grounded.”

Shannon put a hand on his arm. “Is there anything I can do?”

Shrugging off her touch, he grabbed his suit jacket and briefcase. “You can stay away from me.”

“Look.” She blocked his path. “I’ve told you fifty times I was sorry for tricking you into that darkroom. But is it really my fault things went that far between you and Brooke?”

No, it wasn’t, which is what pissed him off most. Shannon may have done the shoving, but it was into a pit of quicksand he didn’t seem to want to get out of. Brooke was a dangerous woman who could very well be out to destroy him—would do anything to get the top position she felt entitled to. But did he really believe that? Did he want to?

“How far did things go between you and Roger?” he asked.

Her face melted into a knowing smirk. “It didn’t take her long to tell you about that.”

“Brooke didn’t say a damn word. But it really makes me wonder what else you’d do to get one over on her.”

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Ethan, I told you—”

“Would you share sensitive information with a client to frame her for sabotage?”

She reared back as if he’d slapped her. “How could you ask me something like that?”

He wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps the humidity was getting to all of them. “I’m giving you a chance to come clean with me without consequence—one chance. If you lie now and I find out later, you’ll be done at this company.”

Shock turned to hurt. “I love this company. You know that.” He watched her, waiting for her answer. Sure enough, a sliver of defeat entered her eyes. “I didn’t share sensitive information,” she said with conviction.

“But?”

“I—I may have locked you on the roof.”

Her honesty delivered a slap of its own. Ethan’s iron control faltered for a moment. “Why?”

“Because I knew Brooke would try to steal your client. I figured if we could expose her as a cheat, she’d be gone, and this contest wouldn’t matter anymore.”

Ethan swore and grabbed his keys and briefcase.

“You should have never agreed to it, Ethan,” she said in a wobbly voice. “How could you put yourself in such a vulnerable position?”

He kept walking.

“Ethan!” She caught up to him. “Will you tell Ken?”

“I said I wouldn’t,” he growled.

But that didn’t mean he’d throw Brooke under the bus for something she didn’t do.

Ethan slammed into his sister’s condo, threw his crap on the foyer floor, and went straight to the fridge. The moment he twisted the cap off a longneck, Harper entered the kitchen in her swim gear.

“Adrianna’s napping,” she said while he downed half the bottle.

He closed his eyes and let the beer settle. “Sorry.”

Ice rattled as she took a sip from a nearby glass. “You’re home early. Bad day?”

“You could say that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

His twin was the only person he could truly open up to, but Harper had been Shannon’s closest friend since grade school. “Not really,” he answered, staring down at the bottle’s sweating label.

“Is it about this competition between you and Brooke?”

He took another long pull. “You’re on a first-name basis with her now?”

She shrugged. “I hear her name enough from you.”

Until then, Ethan hadn’t realized how much he unloaded on his sister every night. He’d sure miss her when she and Adrianna boarded a plane back to South Dakota in the morning. Ethan’s own voice sounded distant to him. “I think she’s out to get me.”

“What did she do besides poison your candy corn?” Harper asked with a hint of amusement.

“She took advantage of an opportunity. I just don’t know how far she went to do it.” Still, he owed Brooke an apology for one particular accusation he’d made that turned out to be false. The thought burned him up inside and made him want to strangle Shannon more now than ever.

“That’s too bad.” Harper ripped an elastic band from her wet hair and picked up a brush. “You two would make gorgeous babies.”

Ethan choked on the last of his beer. He wiped his mouth, placed the empty bottle in the sink, and went to the fridge for another. “You’re a real fuckin’ hoot, Harper.”

She shrugged as the brush worked through some tangles. “I’m just saying you can tell me if you’re attracted to her. I won’t hold it against you.”

The cap came off another longneck. “How did we get on the subject of attraction?”

She flipped her long hair down and back. “I can sense a little of it between you and Brooke.”

He shifted uncomfortably, pretty sure that she’d picked that up from the many times he’d vehemently complained about the woman.

“I have a confession to make,” Harper said. Ethan looked up and noticed that she’d been watching him. “Before we left the office last Friday, I told her about your accident.”

He’d suspected as much. “Nice going. I was kinda hoping to leave the brain injury jokes back in South Dakota.”

“Has she made any jokes?”

Despite her many opportunities, Brooke had somehow restrained herself. He hoped that it wasn’t out of pity.

“That’s what I thought,” Harper continued with half-lidded eyes. “She doesn’t strike me as the type who’d do that, even to you. In fact, I think she was impressed by your resilience.”

“Doubtful.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people’s expressions, Ethan, and she was definitely battling some feelings for you other than resentment.”

That was before their first time in the darkroom, before the liquor store challenge. “You were wrong,” he said just before tipping the bottle over his lips again.

“Does that mean I’m wrong about you too?”

“Probably.” Bullshit, she was always right about him and vice versa. It was some sort of twin thing they shared.

The same thought was reflected in Harper’s eyes. “So, you don’t have any attraction for Brooke whatsoever,” she pressed.

Ethan’s focus blurred as the image of Brooke in her sexy carwash clothes came to the surface. “Not even a little.”

Saying it out loud helped somewhat, but he couldn’t ignore the fact his thoughts were continually plagued by darkroom memories. His dreams were littered with sensual replays so real that he’d wake to a painful need to have her again. More than once he’d been tempted to just give her that damned corner office and leave Naples altogether just to outrun his tumultuous feelings for her.

But quitting wasn’t in his DNA. Now that Brooke had a real shot at winning, he needed to try one more time to convince her that she wasn’t qualified for the job.

Tomorrow. He’d catch her in the parking lot before work. Maybe then there would be peace in the office. Peace in his soul.

He put the unfinished beer in the sink and strolled toward his bedroom. “I need a shower.”

And then he needed to get the hell out of there. Maybe hit the highway and head toward Fort Myers where he knew of a scheduled street race that was to take place that night. If Harper knew he’d been following the local message boards, her first lecture would be about law enforcement and the big possibility they watched those same message boards.

Don’t get sucked in, Ethan. They throw people in jail down here.

But he didn’t give a fuck. What choice did he have now that the track was off limits? He needed the noise, the rush, and to hang with likeminded people. He needed an outlet or he’d go bat-shit crazy… and nothing else would do the trick.