I’m going to give him some time to cool off.

I’m going to give me some time to focus on what should be my top priority right now—getting something worthwhile out of this investigation. On Tuesday, I keep my head down, getting through the things Mr. Overhiser needs in record time so I can follow up on the emails I’ve been watching.

I’ve missed something with Overhiser. He’s got so many shady habits—leaving early all the time, the secret club that he uses his work account to charge his membership to, all of it—but I can’t connect any of them. I dedicate part of the afternoon, while I’m out personally picking up his lunch to ensure they’ve got the order right, trying to talk my way into said exclusive club. The doorman tells me nothing useful, and I go back to the office defeated.

Over and over again, I line up the facts that I know in my mind.

Someone is selling Wilder Enterprises’ energy tech information to a contact in China.

The contact may or may not be affiliated with the Chinese government.

Whoever it was, was at Wilder Enterprises last Monday evening.

I sigh and decide to start from scratch.

I need a list of everyone who was at Wilder Enterprises last Monday evening, starting at four o’clock. It takes a little doing, but I come up with a story about how Mr. Overhiser has been tasked with some outlay oversight and needs to know, on average, how many people stay to work after hours. It’s innocent enough that I half forget the story even after I’ve told it several times, but one by one, the emails come in, and as they do, I put together a list.

It doesn’t help at all.

I feel like beating my head against the desk.

Instead, I go back to reviewing emails. The team at headquarters sent me a new flash drive that runs a secure program on my own computer so I can get more done during the work day, and I keep it open almost all day Friday, trying to get something, anything, out of it.

It’s after five o’clock, almost time for me to snatch my purse out of my desk and get the hell out of here, when I find it.

The emails from the tech department are by far the most numerous, and they’re mostly indecipherable messages interspersed with pieces of data that only someone with a technology fetish could even begin to understand. It makes for mind-numbing reading. Worst of all, they outsource some of their processing tasks to vendors off-site, and some of those are in foreign countries.

So far, the countries I’ve managed to identify are almost entirely unrelated, although there’s something to be said for relaying data through a third party. Headquarters doesn’t think that’s what’s happening. Based on the way the information is being used, they’re fairly sure it’s a direct handoff. Otherwise, we’d see similarities popping up along the chain.

Then, at the end of another similarly boring email, a single word catches my eye.

Beijing.

“Are you heading home for the night, Viv?”

It’s Stephanie, one of the other chief executive assistants, poking her head in through the office door. She has her purse slung over her shoulder and a new coat of lipstick on. I glance back at my screen. It’s almost five-thirty.

“The time got away from me,” I say with a laugh, and switch off my screen. “Thanks for the warning—I might have sat here all night!”

“What a waste of a day!” She gives me a little wave and heads for the elevators.

I switch the screen back on, carefully to eject the flash drive properly, and drop it into my purse.

On the street outside, I wave down a cab and tell him to get to my apartment as fast as he can.

I have work to do.

Back at my apartment, I throw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and park myself on the couch with my laptop. I’m going to figure this out. My heart beats fast. This is a break, and I know it. I just need to figure it out.

I keep searching through the emails from the tech department. They don’t always come from the same address, but they have some features in common. I start scribbling them down on a stray notepad that was shoved down in the bottom of my purse. Then I jot down things I’m going to need to check out to make this stick. It might be common for people in that department to use different addresses for outside vendors—I don’t know. I don’t even know how many people work there.

My mind is humming with it, buzzing with it, and I’m almost there. I can feel it. I need—

The knock at the door jolts me out of my flow.

I stop typing and hold my breath. There are no windows near my apartment door, so if I pretend I’m not here, they’ll leave me alone.

The knock comes again. “Vivienne?”

All the irritation I’ve been swallowing down all day rushes up from my chest, and I slap the cover of the laptop down and toss it a little too harshly, along with the notepad, onto my coffee table. Dominic was having a bad day yesterday, and he was an ass, and for once in my life, I want to focus on my job. I want to be left alone.

It has nothing to do with the ache in my heart from the harsh tone he used with me.

I yank open the doorway and glare up at him. He’s clearly come straight from the office. “What is it?”

He looks at me, eyes wide. “I’m sorry if you’re having a bad day.”

“My day is fine. Yesterday wasn’t so fine.” I take in a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “I don’t want to talk about this now, Dominic. I have work to do.”

Shit. I didn’t mean to say that—I definitely didn’t mean to say that.

“We can talk tomorrow.” I start to close the door, but he puts his hand up against it.

“You have work? That’s why you can’t talk to me?”

“I don’t want to talk to you. That’s the main idea.”

“Do you have a second job?”

Jesus. “No.”

“Then talk to me, Vivienne. I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. It was out of line, and I shouldn’t have taken out my heat stroke on you.”

He’s trying to be funny, and I’m not in the mood. “Tomorrow, Dominic.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Now, Vivienne.”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what? There’s no way you have work from Overhiser. Not tonight. He’s been checked out for hours.”

“I’ve taken on a couple of side jobs.” The lie is stupid, pointless, but I’m angry and I want him to leave.

“What side jobs?”

“I don’t have to tell you that.”

“What the hell, Vivienne?” His frustration is boiling over. “You’re lying to me.”

Right then, I have a choice.

And I choose to double down.