Page 23 of Only the Devil
“Yeah. Thought I heard you.” He tilts his head and that’s my cue to stare out the window.
Chapter 8
Jake
“Go get dressed. I found some stuff we should go over.”
With her back to me, my gaze travels down the harmless tee she’s wearing; to the hem draping her bottom; to her bare, lean legs.
Legs that moments ago I fantasized wrapping around my waist. My dick jerks with the memory, and I’m reminded all I have covering me is a thin white bath towel.
Christ, get your head in the game.
“What stuff?”
“Sterling. Jocelyn. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk it through.”
She’s keeping her back to me, treating me like I’m out of line to be standing in a towel, but I thought I heard something. Wanted to check it out.
I allow myself one last lingering glance, but I’m here to protect her, not screw her—even if I’d very much like to do exactly that—so I quietly turn on my heel and follow orders.
Up in the loft, far enough away from the balcony edge to ensure privacy, I slip on shorts, a tee, and the slides I wear after a workout. They make flopping noises all the way down the stairs, which catches her attention.
“Want me to go grab breakfast? We can get some coffee and food before we jump into things.”
Outside, it’s an overcast morning. We might get a passing shower. When she faces me, the first thing I notice is her dark brown eyes, then how she’s sucking on her bottom lip, then of course, because I’m me, my gaze continues downward, dropping to her tits. “If you want to get dressed, we can go out together.”
And of course, I’m speaking to her tits because obviously my shower routine did nothing to realign my brain.
“There’s a bodega with breakfast sandwiches.” I point it out, and this action has the benefit of breaking my way too obvious stare. “No one’s sitting at the table out front.”
There are actually two round tables to the side of the bodega, but the sidewalk doesn’t qualify as desirable outdoor seating. I hardly ever see anyone eating there.
“Maybe in a bit. I made coffee, if you want some,” she says. “But let me bring you up to speed on what I’ve found.”
“Online research?” I ask while heading in the direction of the coffee, inhaling deeply to breathe in that fresh coffee scent.
That’s what I need. With a fresh cup of joe, I’ll wake up, snap out of it, and stop gawking at my roommate like some hormone-addled college kid.
With my back to her as I pour my coffee, she says, “Jocelyn Faribault worked in accounting. Or finance. It might be the same department. I’m assuming she reported to the CFO, which is Walter Langdon, at least, according to the website. I haven’t met him. Given what they hired me for, that’s not surprising. And it’s likely he’s based in New York.”
“How many people does Sterling Financial employ?”
“They had about two hundred and fifty people. But they’re down to a little over a hundred now.”
I whistle. A cut like that guts morale. “Anyone this past week mention the layoffs?”
“No, but the layoffs happened in January, so that’s like over half a year ago. It’s not like it would still be office conversation—especially with a new employee.”
I open the fridge to dig for milk, head cocked to catch every word.
“Almost everyone is down in Virginia, but there’s a handful of executives that remain based in New York. When they first started, everyone was in New York. Then they opened the office in Virginia five years ago. Sterling spends time in both offices.”
“Why keep the New York office? That’s gotta be expensive.”
“There are some who believe if you’re in finance, you need a New York address. I imagine it makes recruiting easier too. Not everyone’s willing to leave New York. I don’t find anything suspicious about that. If ARGUS didn’t allow remote workers, Rhodes likely would’ve opened multiple offices by now. But, what I keep coming back to is that both this comptroller, Jocelyn, and Alvin Reed, died. And there’s this CFO from Singapore. I found an article on her that labeled her death as mysterious.”
“Define mysterious.” I sip my coffee, eyeing her over the rim of the mug.
