Page 7 of Bad Situation

Closing the door behind herself, she stands at about five-ten in her sexy-as-fuck spiked heels. Every curve on her body is on display, teasing me with what I already know firsthand to be perfection. Her skirt hits her at the knee and stretches over her thighs and hips, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I have to force myself to bite back a frown because, for some reason, that pisses me off.

Her sweater hugs her tits and, even though they’re not huge, they’re big enough, I remember feeling them against my chest. Her hair is smoothed into perfect waves today—a complete contradiction to when I had it wrapped in my fist. To top it all off, a slim choker fits snug on her neck, the memory of her scent nags at me from when I was close enough to that spot to breathe her in.

As soon as she turns, our eyes clash. She recognizes me instantly. Her face falling and those lips that had been so close to mine part on a breath. It takes a second but she frowns, confused, until her gaze drops to my jacket.

My gut tightens as I see it wash over her, reading my employment status in the three little letters that, when put together, mean a fucking lot. I’m not sure what wins out, hurt or shock, but when her eyes jump to mine, she steels her expression.

“Patrick Moss. I’m lead counsel for Montgomery Industries. How can we help you today?” The man in the suit frowns as he stands sentry in front of the door and I’m not surprised. We’re federal investigators—not popular pop-in visitors. I watch Jen as she claims her place next to the attorney.

It’s Bree’s case, so she takes the lead. “I’m Special Agent Bree Newman and these are my partners, Agents McGinnis and Pettit. We have a warrant to search the files—both paper and electronic—of Ms. Jensen Montgomery.”

Jen’s eyes, aimed right at Bree, turn to granite. “Excuse me?”

“I’d like to see that warrant.” The attorney steps forward and grabs the large envelope out of Bree’s hands, yanking out the stack of papers.

“Seriously?” Jen spits as she shoots daggers at me. I’m not sure if she’s talking about the warrant or me, but so far, she hasn’t let on that we’ve met. Though, met is a relative word. She looks over her attorney’s shoulder and asks, “What does it say?”

Patrick slides on a pair of reading glasses, skimming the first page before studying the second carefully. He tips his head and hands the papers to Jen and glares at us. “You only have the authority to search Ms. Montgomery’s office, her computers, cell phone, and that of her assistant. I’ll arrange for security to escort you to her office. They will accompany you while you’re in the building since your warrant is for her office alone.” He turns to Jen. “Follow me.”

Jen’s confused, brown eyes, those that match the chestnut of her hair, move over my co-workers before landing on me. My expression remains bland as I wonder what she’ll say or do. What she does is stand up straighter as her eyes harden. She’s not surprised any longer. For not knowing the woman outside of a quick exchange and our time on the dance floor, I’ve already experienced her smiling, chatty, turned-on, surprised, and hurt. But right now, standing in the lobby conference room of her family’s business, Jensen Montgomery is nothing but downright pissed.

*****

Jen

Patrick is on the phone and, even though I have no fucking idea who he’s talking to, he’s doing his job—kicking ass and taking names. I’m pretty sure he’s rounding up an army of lawyers because he’s spouting orders as fast as he can.

“They’re taking everything, which means they’re taking the fucking lot. Get our IT guys on it. Her computers should be backed up on the servers. I want a copy of everything they’ll have so I can prepare.” He slams his office phone down and picks it back up again demanding his assistant to get Lehmans—the law firm we keep on retainer who specializes in criminal defense. A law firm we haven’t used once since I started working here when I was in high school.

I read the warrant with my name at the top—big, bright, and lonely.

…the office space of Jensen Omera Montgomery, CFO of Montgomery Industries, and that of any assistant who may have day-to-day dealings with the person of interest…

“I don’t care who you have to call. You find out what they’re looking for and why Jen’s the target. They’re digging through her shit right now and taking all her electronics down to her phone—it’s all in the warrant.”

…any and all electronics assigned to or personally owned by the person of interest, including cellular phones, tablets, laptops, desktops…

“I’ve got to call Kipp. I think he’s in Nebraska.” Patrick pauses and looks up at me. “Your parents are still at Cam’s, right?”

Feeling numb, I look up from the warrant. “Yeah. They’re coming back tomorrow.”

Not only did my brother knock up his girlfriend, but he also proposed. I love Cam but everything he does is golden, so my parents are over the moon about it. Really, they just adore Paige, his future wife, and are happy Cam finally got his head out of his ass and is marrying her. I love her, too. I just don’t have the time to fawn all over them. My mom, on the other hand, is in full-blown wedding madness since they’re getting married at the ranch in less than two weeks. I tried to do my part to help in the beginning but the last few weeks I’ve been way too busy with work.

“We’re paying you to figure that shit out.” He leans back in his chair and squeezes his eyes shut while kneading his temple, no doubt easing the headache I’m feeling as well. “I don’t care if you have to raise J. Edgar-fucking-Hoover from the dead. Find out why the damn FBI is rummaging through my CFO’s fucking office!”

Patrick slams his phone down. He’s been our in-house counsel for as long as I can remember and I’ve known him most of my life. He’s lead for a reason—tough, intimidating, and knows his stuff. If I hadn’t grown up with him, he’d intimidate me, too. I played sports with his daughter. He might be shrewd and tough as nails at work, but he’s always supported me here at MI, which isn’t the case with everyone since I sped up the ranks because of my last name. But Patrick gets like this when he’s frustrated and not in control of a situation. The only difference is it’s never been because of me.

I toss the warrant on his desk as he looks at me. When he says nothing, I finally break the silence. “I don’t know why they’re here, Patrick. No idea whatsoever.”

He shakes his head while taking a big breath I hope will calm him. When he finally sighs, he sounds resigned. “Well, it could be worse, right? It could be the IRS. We’ll figure out what’s happening and deal with it.”

I tip my head. “I’m going to go see if they’re done and when I’ll get my things back. I’ll need a new computer. I can work from my files on the network.”

“Don’t say a word to them.” He stands and picks up his jacket, shrugging it up his shoulders. “I’ll come with you.”

When we turn the corner, our security is standing guard and Callie is off to the side with a horrified expression as she watches a man bulldoze through her desk. He takes a stack of papers and her laptop and piles them into a box that’s already full of who knows what.

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