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Snow White Espionage (Barely a Fairy Tale Book 2) Page 3
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She had? Jenna turned to catch a quick glimpse of her new friend, but it he was shocked by her last name, he hid it well.
He gave the blonde a slow, ridiculously sexy smile. One that made her want to trade places with the receptionist so she could wallow in the sexy. Holy crap, he was hot.
She forced herself to turn back to the receptionist. Hot…and a liar. That was a pretty crucial detail there.
“I’m Mark—” he started. He was cut off as his name was called loudly in a high-pitched voice. One that gave Jenna flashbacks to formal dinner parties and regular shouting matches. Margaret’s years as her stepmother were brief but formative.
“Mark,” she sang, her arms outstretched as though she was going to pull him into an embrace. She stopped short when she spotted Jenna standing next to him. The smile didn’t falter, per se, but her eyes hardened.
“Jenna, what a surprise.”
Here we go. “Is it? I thought my father was going to send word that I’d be joining the Knight team.”
Now her smile froze so she looked like photographic evidence of Botox gone wrong. “I thought he was kidding. What on earth will a divorce attorney do on his cases? You’ll be bored silly.”
“Oh, Margaret, you and I both know Donald doesn’t have a sense of humor.” She forced a smile as brilliant and false as Margaret’s. “And don’t worry about me, I’m sure I can find plenty to keep busy.”
The older woman’s eyes narrowed for a split second, as if trying to determine if that was a threat.
Yes, dear wicked stepmommy, that was indeed a threat.
She was dimly aware of Andrea and Mark watching them from the corner of her eye, waiting to see what would happen next. She couldn’t blame them—the tension was thick.
Margaret broke the silence first, inhaling deeply and letting it out with a sigh. “Well, I see you’ve met Andrea, our new receptionist.”
She looked over at the young girl again and they exchanged an awkward smile.
“And this,” Margaret continued, “is Mark Wayne. I’ve brought him in as an environmental expert for the Bouchard case.”
The name rang a bell—one of the many cases on which her father had briefed her. She turned to eye Mark, and he returned with a bland smile.
Environmental expert, my ass. “And what exactly do you specialize in, Mr. Wayne?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but Margaret cut him off. “Really, Jenna, let the man get settled in before you bombard him with questions.”
She hardly thought one question qualified as a bombardment, but now was not the time to start an argument. Two weeks. She had two long weeks to ask questions and to fight with Margaret. If she didn’t pick her battles, these two weeks would feel like an eternity.
So she held her tongue and watched them walk away. When they were out of sight she turned back to Andrea. “So, which way to my office?”
The moment she had her laptop open in the new makeshift office, she did a Google search for the trial she’d seen him at back when he was Officer Hottie. In seconds, she spotted his name in the news report. Officer Hunter McCaffrey.
Mackenzie picked up on the first ring. “What’s up?”
“Can you do a little digging on someone for me?” She was lucky that she had a former stepsister who was not only a hell of an investigative reporter, but who was managing editor of the city’s leading news site, HeatMap.
“Of course, it’s what I do. Do I get to know why?”
Jenna summed up her father’s assignment as quickly as possible, ending with the odd discovery of a police officer posing as an environmental specialist and using a fake name.
She’d heard Mackenzie’s furious typing at a keyboard as she spoke and by the time she was finished, so was Mackenzie.
“Okay, here’s what I’ve got,” Mackenzie said. “Your man became a detective shortly after that trial but then he was shot in the line of duty and left the police force. He started working as a private investigator and owns his own PI company.”
“Private investigator?” Jenna repeated.
“That’s what it says.”
“But why on earth would Margaret hire a PI and have him go undercover in the office?”
“Maybe it’s for one of her lawsuits?” Mackenzie suggested. “Don’t lawyers sometimes hire investigators for their cases?”
Jenna made an “mmm” noise. She wasn’t sold on that. “But then why would she lie about it to me and the receptionist?”
There was silence on the other end as they both thought about it.
“I hate to say this,” Mackenzie said in a low, glum voice. “But maybe your father was right.”
“I thought we agreed my father is never right.” It was one of the many tenets that formed their newfound friendship after their parents divorced—a mutual disdain for her father.
“I know, and that’s why I hate to say it,” she said. “I mean, maybe he’s not totally right—but clearly something is up.”
There was a brief silence as they stewed over that uncomfortable fact.
“Okay, say he’s right. What am I supposed to do now?” Shifting in the leather chair, she fidgeted with the stupidly expensive jacket. “I just came here to appease my dad and get the money I need for my firm. I wasn’t supposed to actually investigate anything.”
Mackenzie’s tone was smug. “Luckily for you, you have me.”
Jenna sighed. “Fine, I admit it. I need your help. So what do I do now?”
“Now you get close to him.”
Jenna could feel heat creep into her cheeks at the idea of getting close to Hunter, or Mark, or whoever he was. It didn’t matter what name he went by, he was sexy no matter what.
And thank God this was a phone conversation because if Mackenzie got even the slightest whiff of a romance, she would—
“Holy shit, he’s a hottie.” Mackenzie said it like it was an accusation. Like, he’s a carjacker. Or, he’s a Red Sox fan.
For a second she thought about trying to play dumb—oh really? I hadn’t noticed. But Mack would never believe her and it would only fuel whatever romantic plotline she had going on in her head. Ever since Mack got together with her Prince Charming, she always had some sort of romantic plot in the works for Jenna. It just killed her that Jenna wasn’t interested in finding love. But really, if Mack spent her days in divorce court listening to people who once loved each other fight over who got the wedding china, she wouldn’t be so cheery on the subject either.
“We don’t have time—”
“You think he’s hot, I know you do.” Oh Lord, Mack was in full-blown accusation mode. How Jacob put up with her when she was like this, she would never know.
Jenna wouldn’t dignify that with an answer. “I think I have a job to do and—”
“Oh, this is too perfect.”
Uh oh. Mackenzie sounded way too happy with herself. “What is?”
“This! You and Hunter. Hunter, Jenna.”
“Yeah, I know his name, you don’t have to shout it at me.”
Mackenzie let out a sigh of impatience. “Hunter? As in the huntsman? Hello, were you not paying attention at all to my little Snow White analogy the other night?”
“Not really, no. I try to tune you out when you become weirdly obsessed with Disney movies.”
“This isn’t just a Disney movie, this is a classic tale.” As if that justified something. Mackenzie rushed on a little breathless with excitement. “You are Snow White and he is your huntsman! Think about it.”
“I won’t. You’re being ridiculous and I have work to do, and didn’t Snow White end up with a prince?”
Okay, the last part didn’t help get Mack back on topic, but curiosity had taken hold. Sometimes Mackenzie’s train of thought was fascinating, if ludicrous.
“She does end up with the prince—in the Disney version, at least. But that’s boring. Everyone knows the sexy hero is the huntsman who is sent to seek her out and kill her but he doesn’t.” Mackenzie let out a li
ttle breathy sigh. “He risks his own life to save hers.”
Jenna tried not to groan at the ridiculously romantic detour this conversation had taken. “Yeah,” she drawled. “Well, that’s nice and all, but I’m kind of in the middle of a crisis here and I need your help. Could you try and stay focused, please?”
When Mackenzie was quiet, she continued, “How am I supposed to get close to the man when I barely know him?”
“Sweetie, if you need help getting close to that, you have more intimacy issues than I can handle. You might need to see a therapist.”
“You’re hysterical,” Jenna said as she pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could take notes. “I’m serious, I need help. I came in here thinking I could just catch some gossip by the water cooler but now it seems I have to actually work for my paycheck.”
Mack relented and got down to business. “Fine, here’s where you’re going to start—with his phone. People keep everything on their phones.”
Jenna scowled at the laptop open before her. “How am I going to get his phone? And once I do, how am I going to get into it? And even if I do—”
“Whoa, you need to chill.” She could practically see Mackenzie leaning back in her office chair in her apartment and kicking her legs up on her desk. “I know exactly how you’re going to do this.”
So the beautiful woman from the lobby not only worked at Knight & Knight, she was a Knight. Fantastic.
Never in his life, let alone his career as a private investigator, had he gotten off on such a wrong foot. He blamed the stupid elevators. And Jenna’s legs. How could anyone concentrate on anything when those legs were walking the planet?
The moment Margaret’s office door shut behind him, she whirled around with a frightening gleam in her eyes. “You see why I’m anxious, don’t you?”
Um…no? He scratched his head. “I take it you’re not too keen on Jenna Knight working in the office?”
Her eyes grew so wide it looked painful. “Of course I’m not happy about it—the girl is a thorn in my side, always has been. But that’s not the problem. It’s the timing of it all. Who does he think he’s trying to fool by sending her in here?”
He opened his mouth to reply but quickly realized his thoughts on the matter were not welcome.
“Who does he think he’s fooling?” Margaret continued. “The girl is a divorce attorney, for God’s sake. What on earth would she be doing working on his cases?”
He flinched, a reaction he’d stifled by the receptionist’s desk the first time he’d heard her profession. The term had acid churning in his gut as he shoved away flashbacks from his messy divorce. So the sleek, sexy stunner was his worst nightmare.
Probably for the best. She was his client’s nemesis, apparently, and if he understood correctly—she might even be Margaret’s leading suspect in this case.
“You need to stay close to her,” Margaret said. She was moving around the room at high speed—tapping at her keyboard, then standing to reach for a file, then heading over to the office’s window to the hallway to peek out, as if someone might be watching.
“I think it might be best if I start with the report from your IT department.” Not that he didn’t like the idea of getting close to Jenna, but this was a job and he intended to see it through.
She waved a hand in impatience. “Yes, sure, I’ll have them send you what you need. In the meantime, get close to her. Find out what she’s really doing here—I’d bet my life she’s here doing her father’s dirty work.”
Get close to her. An image of those long legs and pouty red lips tore through him, leaving him physically shaken and for a split second he forgot what they’d been talking about.
Right, getting close to Jenna—divorce attorney, daughter of the firm’s other partner, and man-eater. Okay, the last one was an assumption but he was a man who trusted his gut and his instincts were telling him that she was trouble.
But she wasn’t telling him to date the woman, just get close to her. It was a dead end, there was no doubt about that—the woman might be a cold, ruthless killer of dreams at her regular day job, but she didn’t exactly seem like the likeliest candidate for the role of corporate spy. If there even was a spy—he had yet to see any proof worth mentioning.
He bit back that response, however. She was a paying client and she wasn’t paying him to tell her she was wrong.
And since when did he blindly follow client’s orders?
Since the client was offering him all the cash he’d need to get the hell out of town and make a fresh start.
“I’ll do it today,” he said.
“Good, I like a man who’s gung ho.” Margaret’s sudden smile was shockingly charming and for a moment he caught a glimpse of what she might have been like when she was young. Or, at least, before she’d gotten so paranoid and competitive.
“Especially since I’m paying you by the hour,” she added with a coy wink.
“Yeah, well, the hourly pay is good, but I’m looking forward to that bonus,” he admitted.
“Oh? You have big plans for that money?”
He hesitated for a second, but then—what the hell. He found himself confiding his plans to get out of town and start over in Chicago. When he was done, she was nodding in empathy. “Divorce, huh? No wonder you want to get out of town. When Donald and I split…” Whatever she was going to say was left unsaid as she stared off into the distance for a moment. With a shake of her head, she brought herself back to conversation. “Sorry, what were we talking about?”
Before he could respond, she snapped her fingers. “Jenna, of course. If she’s not the one who sent the phishing email, she knows something about it. Donald trusts her more than anyone in the world…she’s always been the little princess in his eyes. The girl could do no wrong.” Her gaze met Hunter’s. “Be careful with that one. She’s smart and ruthless—you know she’s one of the best divorce attorneys in the city, don’t you?”
“You mentioned it,” he said.
“Did I tell you what they call her?”
When he shook his head, she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “The ice queen. That’s how cold and calculating she is—don’t underestimate her.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” And he wouldn’t. God, the more he learned about her, the worse it seemed. His gut was right, as usual, this woman was trouble.
Chapter Three
Margaret insisted on making the rounds and introducing him to all the players. “Players” was her term. As he meeted and greeted, he sorted through different ways that he could “get close” to Jenna.
The reptilian portion of his brain was all too happy to provide options, but his rational mind was stumped. He’d been called on to do a whole lot of crazy things during his career as a cop, and occasionally as a private eye. But asking a gorgeous woman out for coffee somehow seemed the most daunting.
Which was ridiculous, he told himself as he fake-laughed at a joke told by one of the senior associates. It wasn’t like he was really going on a date with this woman. But real or not, he hadn’t had anything close to a date since his marriage fell apart. And considering Lana had been his high school sweetheart, he’d never developed his game…or whatever the kids were calling it these days.
He hadn’t dated anyone since the divorce, and even if he was ready—which he wasn’t—it wouldn’t be with a divorce attorney. Or any lawyer, for that matter. And it definitely wouldn’t be with someone like Jenna—someone who screamed aloof and high maintenance.
He knew enough women like that to know they weren’t for him. If he dated again—and at this point, he was starting to think he would never go down that road again—he’d like to think he’d settle down with someone who wanted the same things he did and had the same values.
By the time they reached Jenna’s new office, he had to remind himself yet again that this would not be a date. He’d ask her to go grab some coffee, make a little small talk, and get her talking about herself.
He�
��d found getting people to talk about themselves was remarkably easy and usually the best way to get information out of people. The hard part was getting them to shut up.
Margaret left him at her office door, apparently not wanting to speak to the accused herself.
Jenna greeted him with a smile when he walked in but he couldn’t help but notice how quickly she ended her phone call—almost like she was nervous.
Or maybe he was just being paranoid. Great, Margaret was rubbing off on him.
She was smiling at him, that cool, unflappable smile. And then the unthinkable happened—he found himself staring at Jenna, temporarily unable to speak. He lost his words. Maybe it was the way her legs were crossed—she really did have phenomenal legs. Or maybe it was the smile…or the assuredness. There was something incredibly sexy about her confidence.
Whatever it was, he found himself gaping like an idiot. What had he been going to say?
Right, he was going to ask her out for coffee. He opened his mouth but before he could speak, she beat him to it.
“How’s your first day going?”
He blinked in surprise and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, only an hour in but so far so good.”
“Good.” She beamed at that, an unnaturally bright smile that seemed out of character. “Great. Glad to hear it.”
Okay, now he was certain she was acting nervous—like she had something to hide. All the more reason to get close to her like Margaret wanted.
“Hey, do you want to grab a coffee at some point this morning?” At her wide-eyed look of surprise, he hurried on. “I mean, we’re both new here. I figure we both could use a little—”
“Yes.”
Well, okay then.
He spent the walk over to the coffee shop using every innocuous conversation starter he could think of to get her talking. She answered, all right, but her responses were frustratingly vague and she adeptly diverted his attempts to steer the conversation to her work for her father and what she was doing at Knight & Knight.