Page 13 of Only the Devil
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The CEO is walking her out. Interesting.
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Daisy Jonas
Think we can get in at that sushi place we saw by the Town Center?
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On it
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But as I search up the restaurant name to make a reservation, it occurs to me that if I really want to make it clear Daisy’s not alone, I can wait for her outside her office on the sidewalk. Nothing says ‘someone will come looking for you’ like a body on the curb at quitting time.
As I step onto the sidewalk, across the street on the corner, I spot a couple of containers of flowers in front of the bodega. I pick up a bundle that’s wrapped in clear plastic and pay with a credit card so I can expense the purchase, then stand to the side of the front doors of the lobby. Flowers help sell the boyfriend cover.
I offer smiles to the suits as they file out, mostly individually, but now and then in twos or threes. I don’t get many second glances, as everyone seems to have a place they want to be, and on this summer Friday, that place is not here at the office.
From where I’m standing, I have a direct view of the elevator bank. Daisy steps out, backpack slung on a shoulder, conversing with Sterling and the woman from HR. A passerby looking at the three of them, with Daisy in her jeans and pigtails, and the other two noticeably older executives with their silver hair and suits, might assume Daisy’s a college student walking with her parents. The HR woman lights up with a smile when she sees me.
“How sweet. I love that,” she says.
Daisy’s slight eye roll is the only hint the flowers might be over the top, but she plays along, stepping right into my side.
“Who is this?” Sterling asks.
“Jake Ryder, sir.” The words come out more clipped than intended—old habits. Sterling’s firm handshake lingers a beat too long.
“Phillip Sterling.”
“He’s Daisy’s boyfriend.” Ms. Weaver says. “Do you also have summer hours?” she asks me, voice light and airy like an elementary school teacher.
“Ah, I’m not working today.” She tilts her head, and to fend off further questions about exactly where I work, I say, “I’m currently between jobs. I moved to be with Daisy.”
“Daisy’s been an excellent addition to our team,” Sterling interjects.
My arm wraps around Daisy’s shoulder, tugging her closer. Sterling’s gaze follows my touch, and the vibes I’m picking up from him say he’s feeling possessive—over an employee. I’m suddenly quite pleased with my impromptu decision to meet Daisy outside her office. The tall, thin, older man isn’t a physical threat—he’s more the kind that could sell rain to a hurricane. Meeting Daisy outside was the right call. He needed to see she’s not alone.
Chapter 5
Daisy
Jake weaves his fingers through mine, the motion as fluid as if he’s been doing it for years. His rough, calloused hands warm my AC-chilled skin, and while I’d never cop to it, I’m grateful he’s here.
At sixty-two, Phillip Sterling doesn’t come across as threatening, but when he’s around, I feel uneasy, and I’m unsure why. He dresses in classic custom suits with subdued colors, and his hair isn’t one of those stomach-churning swept-over concoctions. His teeth, while relatively straight and white, aren’t of the ultra-white variety of an SNL skit. He’s intelligent, well-spoken, and his fascination with ARGUS is understandable. These last two days have left no doubt that ARGUS is the reason my resume filtered to the top. But something’s off. Either that, or my amateur sleuthing skills are showing.
“Phillip, let’s let these two enjoy their afternoon. I want to beat the traffic,” Ms. Weaver says.
“Have a wonderful weekend,” Phillip says. “Daisy, let’s meet on Monday. Spend the weekend thinking about what you need to make it happen. The sky is the limit. With the right motivation, there’s no end to what we can accomplish. Think about what you really want.”
Sterling’s smile never quite reaches his eyes. He talks about possibilities and sky-high limits, but there’s something about him that reminds me of a Hollywood agent. Maybe it’s that being the daughter of a struggling actress, I’m naturally skeptical when someone offers to fulfill dreams. My mother fell for skeevy smiles more times than I can count.
Phillip doesn’t wait for a response, instead turning to head in the direction of the parking garage with Ms. Weaver.
“Are they a couple?” Jake asks when they’re out of earshot.
