Page 21 of The Heiress

I was surprised my pants weren’t on fire.

“Okay, just be careful. I started feeling really anxious and I realized it was because of the files you’ve been pulling.”

“And why do they make you anxious?”

“Because when I first started working on the Roark file I got a visit from a private investigator. All it took was one stray search on my phone and they found me. Wanted to know why I was looking around.”

My stomach sank. That wasn’t normal. “I always search from the work computers. Always.”

“Good. Keep it that way. These people are creepy as fuck. I know they make all the spyware and spy satellites, but shit. One keyword search for defense contracts and I had a PI sniffing around. You don’t need that shit in your life right now.”

No I did not.

“I promise I’m following all the normal work guidelines and protocol. Work stays on work computers.”

“All right. I feel better now. I can breathe again. Enjoy your evening with Mr. Hunky Jeans.”

“Please don’t.”

“Sir Sexy Pants?”

“No.”

“What? That man has a fantastic ass. It should be worshipped. I took a picture of it and showed it to Yara. She agrees.”

“You’re impossible and I’m hanging up now.”

Just before my finger hit that wonderful red button I heard, “Admiral Ass!”

I set the phone on the counter, then decided that wasn’t enough distance between me and her booty talk, so I put it in the drawer instead.

“Who was that?” Jace asked. He was crawling around on the floor now. Perfect ass in the air. It really was fantastic.Admiral Ass.

“Hazel checking in. What are you doing?”

“I dropped that box of staples. I almost have them all.” He grunted as he stretched an arm under the couch. “Huh. Do you know you have a laptop down here?”

I froze.

My heart stopped.

I stared at my dad’s silver computer in Jace’s hands.Shit.The memories of that night after the funeral came flooding back. The bottle of wine. The crying. Thesearching the goddamned internet.

But no one had showed up to question me. So maybe my searches were ordinary enough that no one cared. It was just like Hazel to search for something important and get caught in the slip-up while I was the one who was drunk and sad, actually searching for clues to the truth, and no one noticed.

But as I stared at the laptop I knew deep in my bones that I’d fucked up.

8

Iknow how a volcano feels. Well, if a volcano had feelings, that is. It’s probably not a good sign when you start anthropomorphizing geology. Regardless of whether or not a volcano experiences emotions, the science and my psychology were the same. A whole lot of mantle and crust getting crushed and superheated into liquid hot magma, the pressure of all that energy being contained under a cool façade, and knowing that at some point the pressure would have to be released.

Most likely in an explosive and destructive manner.

I didn’t want to be the embodiment of Vesuvius but I wasn’t sure there was an option. It had been ten weeks since I received the letter and yes, I understood everything on a factual level, but emotions simply weren’t catching up.

One minute I’d be fine, the next deeply sad, the next violently angry. It was not a good cocktail. But I was still in mourning for the parents I loved. The giant dark void where they used to live in my life.

At Thanksgiving they’d come to Gainesville for Friendsgiving at my house. Everyone at Excel who stayed in town came over. We had fun. My parents weren’t these distant people who raised me, who I saw on holidays, they were an active part of my life.

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