Page 9 of Tempt Me

She stared past me and raised her hand, beckoning someone in.

The woman started talking before she was fully in the office. “Jamila, you need to take care of this shit.”

I turned to look at her. She was curvy and petite with a mass of dark curly hair and tan skin. Her combination of unlined skin and world-weary brown eyes made it hard for me to tell her age; she could have been anywhere from thirty-five to a well-preserved fifty. Though her business-casual blue golf shirt and khaki slacks could’ve come straight out of a ’90s Best Buy commercial.

“What shit, Ree?” Jamila asked.

“I got a call from not one but two journalists asking about this PI bullshit. And I do not have the spoons to be dealing with it. Not since you’ve pulled in the launch date by two weeks.”

Jamila’s nostrils flared. “Journalists shouldn’t be calling you.”

“Well, they sure as hell are.” Ree folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll put Felicia on your phone. She’ll take care of it.”

“And who’ll answer your phone?” Ree bobbed her chin.

Ooh, I liked her.

“I will.” Jamila’s words hung in the air as the black phone on her desk rang. She lifted the handset and immediately set it back in the cradle, silencing it. “See?”

“Hmph.” Ree shifted on her feet. “We have a bigger problem. QA found a bug. My team says it’ll take a week to fix it.”

“A week? We don’t have any slack in the schedule.”

“Exactly. We’re going to have to push the launch.”

“We’re not pushing the launch,” Jamila growled.

“Get me more developers.”

“Sure.” Jamila’s eyes danced over to me, and her lips curled up at the corners. “Meet Natalie Jones. She’s expressed interest in joining our team as a developer. Natalie, this is Rhiannon Verlaine, head of development.”

I stood to shake Ree’s—Rhiannon’s—hand. Jamila couldn’t be serious. I could probably remember some of what Jackson had tried to teach me one spring break when he was bored. I’d been twelve and bratty, and I hadn’t learned much. But if Jamila needed my help, I’d take a learn-to-code-in-a-day course and use my genius brother as my lifeline.

Rhiannon’s hand was warm and dry to my cold and clammy hand. “Absolutely not. Sorry, sis. Let me clarify. I needcapabledevelopers, not children.”

I felt my smile freeze. A child? I was twenty-six. Maybe I looked younger with my makeup melted off my face from the lobster steam. Still, she couldn’t tell by looking at me that I was incapable of helping. I’d been wrong earlier: I didn’t like Rhiannon Verlaine at all.

“Then go hire some capable developers,” Jamila said smoothly.

Rhiannon threw up her hands. “Like I have time to hire anybody.”

“Sounds like you’ll need to work with what you’ve got because we’re keeping to the schedule. We can’t afford to be a day late. If Moo-Lah beats us to the market, we’re done.”

I knew Moo-Lah. Everyone had the cash app on their phone. Their annoying mooing cow ads had interrupted my pursuit of gems about a thousand times in the game I played on my phone when I was bored.

“We’re done?” Rhiannon’s eyes widened.

Jamila pursed her lips like she hadn’t meant to say it. “Not done-done, but we’ll have lost first-to-market advantage. It’ll be harder to regain that market share. I need you to hit your dates, Ree.”

I glanced up at the organization chart still displayed behind Jamila. Everyone in this building reported to her. That was a lot of weight on Jamila’s narrow shoulders. The wordsI need youshowed a rare vulnerability in her.

I wished she’d said it to me.

Rhiannon sighed through her nose. “Fine. I’ll see what we can do. It’s going to take a lot of pizzas.”

“Do it,” Jamila said. “Get the team rides home after hours. And if you need me to get my hands dirty…” She cracked her knuckles.

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