It takes several deep breaths before I can get my racing heart under control.

It’s a gorgeous July morning, and at this hour of the day, the heat feels like a gentle warmth on my shoulders rather than an oppressive wet blanket. I’m wearing a sleeveless sheath dress, with a cardigan tucked into my purse in case I get chilled by the air conditioning at Wilder Enterprises, and I’m frozen on the sidewalk.

Get a grip, Vivienne.

I look out at the traffic gliding along the street next to me, the taxis coming and going, pulling smoothly up to the curb, gliding away, and take in another deep breath. The city almost smells fresh, and I step back against the building, glancing down at the awning covering the sidewalk in front of Wilder Enterprises.

In spite of everything, in spite of the raging hangover, the fight that happened because neither of us could cool down for a minute, the fact that Dominic walked out on me and refused to talk to me on the phone and told me in no uncertain terms that it’s over, I can’t help but think of him stepping out of his Town Car and looking down at me in the rain. A man like Dominic has enough money and enough power to ignore a person on the sidewalk, but he didn’t. He offered me his hand. He looked into my eyes, and he saw me, he saw me right then.

My throat tightens, aching in the same cadence as my heart, but I swallow it down. The mortifying fact of all of this is that I still want to finish out this investigation on a high note. I still want to find and help bring to justice the person who is selling energy technology secrets to a foreign entity. I want it for me—I want it for my career—but I still want it for Dominic, even after everything.

Maybe—maybe—if I can do this, then I can finally explain to him what all the secrecy was about, what he saw me hiding last night.

No—I can’t do this.

I laugh out loud, on the verge of tears, and blink them back. What I can’t do is stand out here on the sidewalk debating whether or not I can actually tell him the truth once this investigation is over. I don’t have time for that. It’s all a moot point if I don’t get a move on and blow this thing wide open on the tight schedule I’ve been handed.

I put a professional smile on my face and head toward Wilder Enterprises with my head held high, eyes glued to the traffic with every step in case Dominic crosses my path.

The first item on my agenda is to come up with a lie that will draw the person from tech support up to my desk. I don’t have time to come up with a sophisticated plan, so I start by overloading the computer with every conceivable program I can open and then running the most complex tasks I can think of until the entire thing freezes up. Then I pick up the phone and dial down to the basement.

“Mark Sadler.”

“This is Vivienne Davis,” I start out, letting my voice shake a little. “I’m sorry to bother you guys, but there’s something wrong with my computer and I can’t get it sorted out.” I hate playing the damsel in distress, but sometimes it’s the most effective thing.

“Okay. What floor are you calling from?”

This guy—Mark Sadler—could be the one. Based on what I’ve noticed in his emails, all signs point to him as a primary suspect. To prove my suspicions, I need access to his machine, and I don’t have time to come up with a cute plan to stay after hours and then hope he’s gone home for the day.

“Mr. Overhiser’s office,” I say, banking on the fact that he’ll remember the names of the executives, at least. “I’m up here, and I can’t get this to work, and there’s a lot to do—” I let my voice rise higher and higher in octave.

“Hold tight, Ms. Davis. I’ll be right up.”

He clicks off the call and I do another performance of being frustrated in case anyone is watching from some hidden corner of the office, count to forty, and then I stand up, heading straight to the elevator.

My heart beats wildly. If he’s on this car, right now, then it’s going to look at least a little suspicious that I’m leaving and not staying to anxiously hover over his shoulder until the computer is fixed. I come up with several excuses—a last-minute drink order, being so overwhelmed by my emotions that I need to step outside, an urgent request to retrieve a file—and I’m prepared, but when the doors open, the elevator car is empty.

I take it down to the third floor, then let my eyes go wide for the benefit of anyone who might have noticed that I’ve never been here before, and step back in. There’s a wait because the elevator is on its way to the upper levels, and when it gets back down there are two people inside—neither of whom are the tech support guy. Hopefully he’s making his way to my computer right now.

I clutch the flash drive I’m going to need for his machine in my left hand and get back on the elevator.

When the doors open on the basement level, it’s a different scene from when I was here last. It’s well-lit, and all but three of the offices have someone inside them, hunched over a keyboard. One of them swivels around as I make my way into the space. “Need something?” He’s got red hair and dark eyes, and looks vaguely irritated to be interrupted.

“Dropping something off,” I say, holding up the flash drive and giving him my most charming smile. The corners of his mouth turn up, and then he turns his back.

“Is it for the kid?”

Kid? I give a shrug, then continue on past the office.

Mark Sadler’s office has his name on a bracket outside the door, and his computer is on, humming. I jam the flash drive into the first available port I see.

My heart is beating out of my chest, slamming against my rib cage so hard it’s difficult to hear anything else. The drive needs thirty seconds to work, and that’s probably how long I have before someone realizes I’m standing in here.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Twenty-five.

Thirty.

The indicator on the flash drive blinks, and I grab it up as fast as I can.

But I’m not fast enough. I’m still standing up when Mark Sadler’s voice interrupts me from the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

I slap a sheepish smile onto my face. “I thought—oh, this is stupid.” I tuck the flash drive into my hand, hoping it’s hidden from his view. “I thought I should come down and see you first. I’m so impatient. But when I got down here I realized—”

He’s not buying this.

“—that you’d already gone up.”

“Okay…”

“But I’ll get out of your way. How—how’s the computer?”

“It’s fine,” he says, and there’s something in his voice that sends a chill down my spine. He locks his eyes on mine. “Give me a call if you have any more trouble.”

“Thank you so much,” I gush, and I move quickly toward the door. He moves away from it, but a beat too late, like he might stop me. “I promise I won’t bug you too much.”

I can feel his eyes on me all the way back to the elevator.