Page 41 of Escape Girl

A slow smile formed on her face, and her hazel eyes sparkled. “That could work.” She exchanged excited glances with Sloan and bounced in her chair. “Holy wow, that could actually work.” Her fingers flew over her keys. “I gotta make some quick notes.” She beamed at me. “Thank you!”

Sloan pushed off of Heather’s desk and sauntered toward her own. “You here for a job interview?” she teased.

I smiled at her and shook my head, feeling the tiniest bit exhilarated. I’d never thought of fundraising as interesting work before, but all three of the women in the office were completely focused on the task at hand. No boredom in sight. If they treated each possible donor with the same sort of research and psychological analysis Heather had clearly put into Crown, I could see how they’d be very successful.

Jo Harper certainly wasn’t dumb, I’d give her that. She’d quit her romance scamming, but she found a legitimate business that had skill set overlap. They were still soliciting money fromrich men, only instead of being for themselves, now it was for this nonprofit client. Idly, I counted desks again, wondering about the size of her team. Three girls were here, and one desk was probably Jo’s, which meant that she had two other MIA employees.

Oh, actually, there was a framed photo of the team on the wall nearby. They were standing outside of this building, grinning and squinting in the sun. Heather and Sloan crouched on the ground, while Jo, the brunette with two buns, and another woman with big red curls stood behind them. It didn’t look like an employee photo; it looked like a family snapshot.

Hmmm. Jo, Heather, Sloan, redhead, buns. Five women. Six desks. Maybe Jo was actually looking to hire someone new? But no: all three of the vacant desks were covered with papers, notebooks, and framed photos.

I snorted to myself as I heard Sloan sexily greet a potential donor and then launch into a smoldering diatribe about the dangers of the world posed by social media. I assumed Jo appreciated the irony here—her team used tobeone of those very dangers.

My phone pinged with an email from Max.I’d love to help. I’ll dive in and give you an update tomorrow.

Fifteen minutes passed, and I fidgeted on the sofa while scrolling through work emails. How long was Jo’s coffee break going to last? I couldn’t believe she was actually engaged. Had she been wearing a ring at the bar last night? I wondered if she’d been completely truthful with her new fiancé about the kind of work she’d been doing for the last five years or about her near-scam-marriage with my father.

Sloan giggled throatily into her headset. “You’re so funny! Such a charmer, oh my goodness.” Smoothly, she transitioned back to: “Let me tell you what’s so special about SSM, OK?”

My scrolling thumb paused. A slither of unease circled my stomach and spine. Wait.Wait.

Heather pointed at her screen emphatically. “I knew it, Alan! I knew it. Someone with your progressive vision wouldn’t throw money at symbols of the past. Someone like you, with his finger on the pulse on today’s world, knows that organizations like SSM are shepherds to the future.”

SSM. Safe Social Media. That was the nonprofit they were working for? No. No, this didn’t make any sense. How in the world could this have happened? How could this team of former romance scammers be working for SSM?

The door to the office suite opened a crack. None of the girls on the phone noticed. I stood quietly, prepared to confront Jo head-on.

Jo stood mostly in the hallway, propping open the door slightly with her arm. I could tell it was her because she wore the same long, dark French braid. I moved closer to get a better view. “I’m going to see you in a few hours, Indy,” she murmured, a laugh thrumming through her low speaking voice…which transitioned into a bit of a squeak as she was pulled up into an embrace.

I finally got a clear view through the cracked opening. Jo was being rather thoroughly kissed by a man with dark hair. This must be the fiancé.

Jo finally pushed away. “You are such a distraction!” She caressed his face. “A gorgeous, gorgeous distraction. Now go away! I’ll see you at home later.”

At least, I think that was what she said to him. But as soon as her fiancé’s face was revealed, a roaring began in my ears.

Staring down at Jo—with a fierce, proprietary, and crazy-in-love smile—was my husband’s brother, Jamie March.

Chapter Thirteen

Ifroze intoa statue. One with its mouth hanging wide open.

Behind me, the girl I hadn’t met yet abruptly began to wrap up her call. “You know what? It was great speaking with you, but I need to go. I’m so sorry.”

Jo finally fully entered the office and closed the door on Jamie. She had a few fingers pressed to her lips, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes unfocused. She looked dreamy and much younger than the woman I’d met the night before. Must have been one hell of a kiss.

I cleared my throat in a snotty, overdramatic fashion. “Wow. Had the timing been different, I guess we’d have been sisters-in-law. That’s a definite improvement over you being my stepmother.”

Jo blinked at the sound of my raised voice, the sight of suited me, clearly enraged and standing smack in the middle of her office. And with that one blink and a flick of her braid over her shoulder, she transformed straight back into her impenetrable, unflappable, infuriating self.

“Good morning, Emily.”

Before I could shoutWhat the hell?at her, she strolled to the kitchenette. “How about a cup of coffee?”

I stalked after her with my hands on my hips, an angry panther in heels. My face was so hot with rage, I knew it had to be beet red.

“You’re such an incredible person. I’ll call you later to finalize the details, Alan, OK?” Heather said quickly and then slammed down her phone.

Sloan followed suit in an instant. “We’ll talk again soon. Bye-ee!”

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