Page 20 of Made for You
After the premiere and all that honesty he’d given me, I hadn’t returned it. Not right away. But in this context, I’d felt compelled to. I didn’t want to be a liability for his business, nor did I want to see the disappointment on his face when he inevitably did find out about it. I’d determined to tell him everything sooner rather than later—the facts, straight up. And now, he had them. Now, he could deal with them, and me, however he saw fit.
And I’d know him better based on whatever that turned out to be. More insight into this man felt imperative, even if getting it meant laying myself bare.
When he did speak, it came without trepidation or question. “I’m assuming your adolescent record is sealed.”
I nodded.
“Why tell me about it, then? You shouldn’t have to disclose any of that, even if you’re getting a background check.”
A good question. “I figured you should know. If the concern is potential extortion and the idea that I have a sealed record thatcouldbe exposed would put me in danger of being bribed to keep it from being revealed, it stands to reason that my disclosing it directly removes this possibility and therefore reduces my risk one hundred percent, therefore making me a more attractive candidate.”
He didn’t need to know the other part—that I already wanted him to know me more than I’d wanted anyone else I’d ever met, andthiswas a tough yet necessary step in that direction. Doing it in this setting would allow me to proceed with a friendship with him and employment here in good conscience.
Right. Because all you want from Bruce Camden is friendship and a job.
He didn’t smile outright, but something about him did—a slight wrinkling around his eyes, the muscles in his cheeks tightening enough tooh so subtlypull the corners of his mouth into a curve. “Very logical.”
“It is.”
“Anything else?”
I shifted in my seat, a bit more comfortable now that I’d gotten everything out in the open. “Not that I can think of. Feel free to ask me anything, should the need arise.”
His eyes narrowed just a touch. “Would you tell me about what happened in California?”
I’d anticipated the question in that I’d be unlikely to have an interview after getting laid off that didn’t ask about it. Even though it felt a little like someone twisting a knife in my back to tell the story again, I did.
“I worked for the accountancy for eight years. I did traditional work and tended to do it very well. You already know I’m adept with numbers, so even though the US tax code is utter nonsense, I can enjoy the work.”
“Makes sense.”
I liked that he stayed engaged in the conversation without needing to expound on my answers, and it certainly worked to keep me talking. “At some point, the boss’s son took an interest in me—not romantically, but more as a curiosity or something. He found me one day at a happy hour event and he said a few things that sent up red flags, particularly in terms of his role in the family business. After that, with no boyfriend to distract me, no family around, and nothing else to occupy me, I did some digging, reported my concerns to his father, and, well, here I am.”
My cheeks heated as the words slipped out—this was not the version of the story I’d told Mr. Keller at my other interview. I’d merely mentioned it had been time for me to make a change and my old employer and I hadn’t seen eye to eye.
“He got you fired?” Bruce asked, his eyes narrowing.
I sighed before I could stop myself. “I think so. I’m pretty sure they didn’t want to fire me outright for fear of how it would look.”
His jaw flexed. “Do you have any interest in forensic accounting?”
I blinked, surprised this was his response. No second-guessing me or raging at the injustice like Gram had. He simply absorbed the information and ran with it. “I’ve looked into it, but I don’t have experience.”
“Noted. Any questions for me at this point? I can’t tell you much until you sign our protocol of NDAs, but ask away and we can circle back to anything we need to later.”
I had approximately seventy questions, but for now, I’d settle with a simple one. “They call you Jaws?”
Stunningly, Bruce’s cheeks brightened, and somehow, I had a feeling he didn’t normally blush at a question like that.Odd.Not bad odd, just… surprising. And more than a little affecting on that handsome face.
“Nickname from work. It sounds kind of hokey, I guess, but we all have them. Usually on comms—the radio—we have call signs based on our roles on a mission, so it’s not like someone’s saying the nicknameJawsover comms like you see in the movies. But they do get used day to day. Since not everyone comes from the unit, we’ve encouraged first names in lieu of nicknames all the time.” He picked up a pencil and tapped the desk with the eraser side.
“Is it because the shark from Jaws is named Bruce?” I wondered aloud.
He grinned, and something tipped over in my belly. Goodness, the man was lethal with a smile.
“Good guess. It’s actually because my buddies used to say I got a particularly shark-eyed focus when I needed information.”
He swallowed, and it struck methiswas his tell.
