Page 96 of Tempt Me

“Holy shit.” I winced. “Sorry, Mother.”

“The COO plans to take over Jamila’s company? Holy shit,” Mother repeated.

“I need proof,” I said.

“I have a document outlining his Jamilow holdings,” Billie said.

“What about any cash he might have received from Moo-Lah?”

“I’ll email my attorney. If it’s there, she should be able to find it.”

“Okay, that’s good.” It was the proof I needed.

A deep voice murmured on Billie’s end of the line.

“Need anything else, sweetie?” she asked. “Because I’ve got a hot date with a Malaysian tycoon.”

“No. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

“I’ll shoot off that email right now,” she said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Energy buzzed in my fingers and toes. I had a lead on something that would prove Winslow was the leak, one that would stop him from hurting Jamila any more than he’d already done.

28

The next morning,Wednesday, I sailed into Jamilow’s headquarters like I owned the place. I didn’t, but I hoped that by the end of the day, Jamila still would.

Bruno stopped me. “Miss Jones, you don’t work here anymore.”

“I know, Bruno. And I know you’re doing your job, but you have to let me upstairs.”

“No, I don’t. Jamila said—”

“It’s okay, Bruno.” Hannah stepped off the stairs and strode to us. “She’ll log in as my visitor.”

“I’m not sure I can let—”

“Bruno.” I leaned over the curved desk. “I’m here to save Jamila. And the company.”

He frowned. “Sounds like you’re going to cause trouble.”

He had a point. “I probably am. Want to come with us? Then you can walk me out if I cause the wrong kind of trouble.”

“Fair.” He lifted the handset and called someone. When the replacement guard arrived, I marched up the stairs, a neon-yellow visitor badge clipped to the neck of my boring navy sheath dress, the one I wore to funerals. On the second floor, heads turned as we made our way to Jamila’s office. Felicia barred the door, arms crossed.

“You can’t go in there. She doesn’t want to see you.” She shot an accusatory glare at Bruno, who shuffled his feet.

“I have something she needs to see. Something you all need to see. Let me in. All I need is five minutes.”

“Five minutes.” Her lips thinned. “Seems like you can do a lot of damage in five minutes.”

“I promise, I don’t mean any harm to Jamila. I want to help her. Please?”

The last voice I wanted to hear came from my left. “Absolutely not.”

Slowly, I turned. Today, he wore the same raspberry-colored pants, his two-tone shoes, a white shirt with the collar open, and a navy blazer. “Winslow.”

“Was our message not clear on your last day, Miss Jones? You’re not welcome here.”

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