Page 58 of Dare to Love Again

“No clue,” she replied as she put her nose to a half-open bloom and inhaled. This wasn’t exactly true. She had a suspicion but was afraid to hope and end up disappointed.

“There’s a card. Read it and find out!” Jasmine demanded.

She pulled the small envelope from the cardholder. The handwritten note inside was in a bold, masculine script.

I couldn’t resist. The color reminded me of your sexy dress, and the way your beautiful skin blushes pink all over.

Heat swept through her like a flash fire. Why she didn’t spontaneously combust on the spot, she couldn’t say. Aside from being devastatingly handsome, commanding in his dominance, and the best kisser ever—sorry Andrew, but it was true—Finn was also a romantic, though naughty, for sending such a racy note to her at work.

What if someone else had opened the card?

To hide her flushed cheeks and giddy grin, she bent to smell another barely open bud, which meant she would enjoy these beauties for days.

“Well?” Jasmine asked impatiently.

Esme remained silent. Telling her anything was like taking out a billboard on Wilshire Boulevard.

“There’s more on the back,” she informed her huffily.

The warm feeling intensified when she turned the card over and read the rest in much smaller print.

I’ve seen you in leather and lace. You looked lovely in both, but for a hayloft? Perhaps braids, a suede vest, and a short denim skirt might be better, and as last night, nothing underneath.

I might be a little past seven. Wait in the lounge and I’ll come find you.

He had signed it simply with aK.

“What’s going on?”

Esme looked up, her good mood evaporating with Gerald’s sudden appearance. She had seen no one practically all day. Now, when she wanted a moment alone, suddenly, it was Grand Central Station.

He sounded surly and looked more stressed than usual, which was saying something. His tie was askew, he hadn’t shaved, and even though they kept the office cool, which prompted her to wear long sleeves in the summer, he was sweating.

“Esme has an admirer. He’s a secret one, evidently, since she won’t tell me who he is.” Jasmine wasn’t very observant and hadn’t keyed in on their boss’ bad mood or she wouldn’t have gone on chattering, needlessly disclosing things she shouldn’t to someone who obviously didn’t care.

“Do I pay you to gossip, Miss Myers?” he snapped. “The answer to that is no. I’m paying you to type, specifically the contracts due on my desk by the end of the day. Are they finished?”

Jasmine’s head jerked, surprised and visibly hurt by the angry tone and sharp criticism. Gerald Reinhart could be impatient, but he was usually civil and rarely outright rude. There was an hour before they closed; technically she hadn’t missed her deadline yet.

Jas was a busybody and a notorious gossip, but she always got her work done. Esme sympathized with her at the unwarranted censure because when he’d left at midday, he told them he didn’t intend to return. Popping in and demanding work to be done earlier than expected wasn’t fair.

“I’ll have them ready in about thirty minutes, sir.”

“Get to it, then. I’m not paying overtime for silly chitchat.”

She glanced at Jasmine, head down, cheeks red with embarrassment, as she hurried out the door. Her boss’ foul mood left Esme with a dilemma. Did she mention the account numbers she’d found? Or let it slide out of self-preservation because he looked as irritable as he sounded.

What’s more, if her suspicions were correct, it was probably safer for her if he didn’t know she knew. But where did that leave her? Did she go to the police when she had no actual proof? Ask Brad, and put them both in danger? Or do nothing, burying her head in the sand and possibly risk becoming an accessory to a crime?

She liked none of her options.

“Since you’re mooning over roses,” he snapped, “I suppose the briefs I need for Thursday aren’t ready yet, either.”

“If you mean for the Morales case, it’s on your desk. I finished the Westbrook brief, too.” She turned and picked up the file she’d been reviewing before this latest series of interruptions. “I have it right here.”

She handed it to him, which took the wind out of his grouchy sails. Looking to do some ass chewing since the moment he arrived, he’d have to move on to an employee who wasn’t doing their job.

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