Nine

I lowered my laptop’s lid after disconnecting with Lemon, satisfied that she wasn’t our suspect, and happy with the leads she’d given us. “Taylor told me she didn’t want publicity; that’s why she came to me and not to the police.”

Jace leaned back in his chair and crossed his beefy arms over his chest. “Going with the theory she was setting herself up, you’d be a believable witness, and you’re definitely sympathetic to her.” He gently touched my sleeve and softened his voice. “Especially after you were shot.”

“I might’ve been killed…” I hugged my arms around me. Taking Taylor home Wednesday night turned out to be the most dangerous thing I’d ever done, yet it seemed like such an easy assignment.

“Next time—you’ll call me?”

Why did that simple request make me angry? Could it be because Jace never would’ve asked that of Harry, or even of Bullet? But me, he treated like an intern, like I was incompetent. I couldn’t sit quietly next to him another second. I got up and rushed around the table. Putting distance between us seemed like a good idea to keep me from—from what? Socking his thick arm? That would be mature.

“What?” Jace asked, getting up and moving around the table, too. I twisted around to face him. His brows quickly rose. “What did I say?”

“What makes you think I needed you?” Before he had a chance to answer, I blasted away with another question. “And just what makes you think that I can’t handle a new client alone? I’m not an intern. I’ve been doing this on my own for a while now.”

Jace stayed well away from me—across the room. It was a wise choice. “I would’ve been back-up, to keep you safe.” He waved his considerable arm toward the bank of windows. “For cryin’ out loud, Max. It was midnight! And Taylor told you someone was after her. I could’ve kept you safe.”

Kept me safe? Why did he keep bringing that up? Unless…

I studied his worried face. While his mouth was tipped down in a slight frown, his eyes revealed something else. I just couldn’t tell what, exactly. He could be angry with me.

“Are you saying this because you feel guilty about Harry dying? That you couldn’t save him? Or is it that you just don’t think I’m good enough—that I should still be sitting behind a desk, greeting clients walking into the office, and filing—”

“Good enough?” Jace took several steps closer. “You’re as good an investigator as I’ve known.” His lips slid into a warm half smile. “You’re smart, tenacious, and beau—” Jace jerked like he’d been poked in the side with a sharp stick, and he broke off mid-word. His neck blushed as his eyes dropped to my lips. He turned away from me, rubbing his hand across his mouth. “You’re my boss. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

His words sounded more like a needed reminder. But to whom was he trying to convince—him or me? Besides, I heard what he was going to say before he’d abruptly stopped. There weren’t many words beginning that same way. He was going to call me beautiful. I melted again.

“I’m your boss…”

What if he wasn’t an employee? Would Jace treat me differently? That distinction didn’t seem to have had an impact on Harry when he first asked me to dinner. At the time, I’d wondered if it made Jace uncomfortable that I dated the boss. Even worse, later when Harry had asked me to marry him. He’d been a widower for several years by then, and I’d fallen in love with him even though he was more than twenty years my senior.

“I’m your boss,” I whispered again. Right now I didn’t want to be his employer, but I did need him no matter what I’d told him. I couldn’t envision working without him. But I never let my imagination wander farther than that before this morning. Or had I? Did Jace have feelings for me—feelings of love that he’d never act on as long as he remained my employee?

I ambled back to the table and sat on the edge, thinking about how I could put us on a level playing field without coming right out and asking him for a date. This idea could actually help me financially, as well.

“Jace…I’ve been considering bringing…” I could be making a mistake finishing my sentence, but I had to give us a chance. “Partners into the company, to help expand our reach.” He turned back around, lifting his brows. “I want to offer partnerships to—to you, and to Bullet, too.” The slow smile that spread on his mouth made me blush. “It wouldn’t be a give-me. You’d need to buy your way in, but that’s something we could,” —I took in a shaky breath— “negotiate later.”

“I may want to redecorate my office.”

“We’ll have to go over the books to see where we can get the money from.”

The smile didn’t falter from Jace’s lips. “We can do that.”

“So…you’re accepting my proposal?” I asked, holding out my hand.

Jace rushed to close the distance between us. The intense look in his eyes tripped my pulse, and the closer he got, the faster my heart raced. When he came to a stop, he took my hand, and I could barely take a breath. “I do.”

~*~

“Wake up, Max.” Jace ran his hand along my leg, like I could sleep with him doing that. “We’re coming up on the studio.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” I said, sitting up. I’d had my seat reclined and had tried my best to doze, but I couldn’t shut off my mind. I kept thinking about Taylor and her new show, and how Burdette was involved with it. Yes, Marry Me was wildly popular, but that was Burdette’s doing and not Taylor’s. Why would he dole out probably millions to back an unproven idea of hers? At least without having his arm painfully twisted?

“You certainly looked like it,” Jace said with a slight grin. “I think I might’ve heard you snore.”

“Real funny. I don’t snore.”

“How would you know? You were asleep.”

I watched out my window as the buildings slowly went by. “Harry would’ve told me.”

Jace laughed. “Your husband never would’ve told you if you snored. Harry was a very smart man.”

“Whatever. I wasn’t sleeping. I was relaxing, and I was thinking about our case and how Taylor received two threats on her computer. Every computer and laptop, and basically every electronic device, is registered to its owner so logically those emails should have an IP address on them showing who that computer belongs to. Right?”

“That’s right.”

I took out my phone and opened my contact list. “I’m going to text Taylor and have her forward those emails to me. I’ll then give them to Bullet and have him trace the IP addresses. Hopefully, that might give us an answer.”

“Good idea. And while you’re hot, do you have an idea on how we’re going to get into the studio?” Jace gazed briefly at me. “We don’t have a pass to get by gate security.”

I shrugged. “Let’s sneak in.”

Jace immediately pulled into an office parking lot, found a secluded parking space and killed the engine. “You’ll need to leave your computer bag if we’re going to scale a tall wall.”

“A tall wall?” Crimany. I’d rather go around it than over it.

He got out and rushed around the back of the car to open my door. When I got out, he said, “I’m glad you’re dressing down today.”

I lifted my handbag’s strap over my head and hung it on my shoulder, settling the bag against my hip. “I’m liking my new look, even though I feel like a fifth grader,” I said as I moved my hand from the top of my head to the bottom of Jace’s neck, showing him how short I was.

He chuckled. “Max, no one will ever confuse you for a little girl.” He pointed across the street. “That is the wall we need to scale. That should take us up behind the main buildings. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” My phone pinged before I could take a step. I looked at the front. “It’s Taylor. She says she just forwarded those emails. Give me a minute. I want to send them to Bullet.”

I opened my mail app and found Taylor’s two emails. She was efficient if nothing else. I quickly forwarded them to Bullet with a short note about searching my house for listening devices surreptitiously planted there by Taylor, and to share the work with Pierce and Lia. Two minutes later, I tucked my phone away again. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jace headed toward the sidewalk and I did my best to keep up with his long, fast steps. Basically, I ran after him. The busy street proved little problem, as long as I stayed on Jace’s heels. He had us on the other side in seconds. When we were next to the wall, my phone pinged again. “It’s Bullet. He’s says ‘I’m on it.’”

“Good man,” Jace said while he grasped the top of the block wall. A moment later, he’d pulled himself up high enough to see over the edge. After what seemed like an eternity of him hanging there looking around, he finally dropped back down. I’m pretty sure he was just showing off. “This is a good place to do our sneaking.”

“Okay.” I reached up and grasped the edge of the bricks, like Jace had, only I had to reach farther. But unless I had a running start and a new tightly wound springboard, the chances of me demonstrating the same strength he had in lifting himself up—were impossible. Jace chuckled as he lifted me up high enough for me to swing a leg over the top. I sat straddling the narrow ledge, gripping the brick with all my strength, frightened that I’d fall. “Jace?”

“Hang tight—” Within a few seconds, he’d pulled himself up and over the wall. When he landed on the other side, he patted my leg. “Okay, come on,” he said, holding up his hands.

I leaned on my stomach and moved my leg over the side. I didn’t have to worry about jumping down. Jace took care of that, too. I landed so softly I almost didn’t feel the ground. But I did feel my fast-beating heart. Jace still had his hands around my waist, and his warm breath drifted through my hair when I leaned back against him for a moment. He cleared his throat and stepped back.

“We should get going,” he said. I turned around, putting a little more distance between us. “Do you have an idea which studio he’s working out of?”

“I’m hoping he’s not on location someplace.” I started walking. “Might as well just ask around.” I thought that was a good idea—or at least a good enough idea until I saw a Star Tours bus pull in through the gate up ahead.

“Look at that.” I pointed at the bus.

“That’s one way to blend into a crowd.” Jace picked up his pace—which meant I had to run again.

We stayed close to the side of the huge, windowless, warehouse of a building where the thick tops of mature citrus trees grew into each other like a giant, sweet-smelling hedge. While Jace strode like a normal man would, I ran hunched over, trying to make myself invisible. Frankly, anyone seeing Jace wouldn’t give me a second look—or even a first. When we neared the corner, Jace hid behind the trunk of a tree from the roadway coming in from the gate.

“It’s a busy place,” Jace said, watching another tour bus pull in through the security gate.

“I’ve always wanted to take a tour of a movie studio.” I gazed up into his eyes—they were a delicious shade of green. I’d always admired his greens eyes, since mine were a most common shade of brown. Ah, but I remembered he thought I was beautiful. It made me smile all over again.

Jace grinned. He had straight teeth, too. “Who am I to deny you a little fun during a mission?”

I held back the giggle at the term “mission.” He would use it in all his reports. I guess I never looked at our assignments as such, but that’s what they were. I almost felt like a secret agent, and our next “mission” was to slip unnoticed into a busload of tourists. Now I was particularly happy I didn’t wear a business suit. Who would wear that on vacation? No, a simple pair of jeans and a pretty shirt helped me blend in.

Jace took my hand, startling me, and led me out onto the sidewalk where we strolled toward the bus that had stopped. The door swished opened and an old man stepped down. His hunched frame looked delicate as he turned around. He lifted his hand and helped an old woman safely negotiate the steps. Jace dropped my hand and moved to the door as another elderly woman descended holding onto her purse. He gently held her elbow, helping her to the sidewalk. I came up next to him and gave each aged tourist a welcoming smile and a hello as he continued to help them out of the bus. It was slow going, but after the last senior citizen had joined the group outside, the sidewalk was filled with chattering, happy people who were obviously looking forward to their afternoon.

A young man in slacks and a button-down blue dress shirt came running up from across the parking lot. For a brief moment, I thought we’d been caught with our fingers in the pickle jar. Oh, man—Lemon had rubbed off on me.

“Welcome,” the young man said with a voice loud enough to be heard over the thrum of excited conversation. When it didn’t seem like they’d noticed him, Jace put two fingers in his mouth and sent out a shrill whistle, immediately silencing the group. He nodded at the young man, and every wrinkled face turned his way.

“My name is Stewart, and I will be your guide.” He held up a handful of bright yellow lanyards with their studio’s logo printed on a plastic placard. “If you wear this at all times, security won’t escort you off the property.”

I rushed around the group and took the lanyards from his hands. I put them over each gray head. When I was out of sight of Stewart, I slipped one over my head and over Jace’s as well. When he winked at me, I felt like I’d earned his approval. I finished passing out all the lanyards while our guide gave his pre-tour lecture. I gave him back the three leftover lanyards, giddy that we’d securely embedded ourselves in a cover that should keep us safe from being discovered—at least for now.