“Unfortunately, I don’t have the key or the pin code to change it.” Maybe he’ll be miserable enough to wrap up early. If so, it would totally be worth the hours of discomfort.
I veer into the conference room, setting my backpack on the table so I can plug in where I did yesterday. Although he follows me in, he keeps going out the other door. “Let me grab a laptop,” he says, undeterred.
My heartbeat kicks up. I have a few precious seconds to snoop around Bill’s desk. He’s complained about so many passwords, he might have his written somewhere. But as I walk out to the hallway, I come face-to-face with Addler, coming out of Bill’s office.
“Where are you going?” he asks, giving me a sharp look.
Guilt washes through me as I grasp for something to say. Then my gaze lands on his hands and the sheriff’s insignia sticker on the open laptop. Oh my God, no. “What are you doing?” I blurt out.
“Grabbing a computer with a connection to the network. I’ll follow along with what you’re doing and learn how to research for myself so I don’t have to rely on my family name.”
His gaze nails me into place as another statement from my past comes back to haunt me. But the self-absorbed rich boy was messing with my grade. While he didn’t have to worry about money, I needed to get a scholarship if I planned to go to college, and I didn’t mind telling him so.
Before I can think of a comeback, I catch sight of the box sitting on Bill’s desk. Reality slams into me in an icy wave as I turn back to Addler. “What’s going on?”
His eyes shutter, and I can practically feel the floor fall out from the space between us. “I was going to wait until next week, but seeing as how you weren’t here, I started clearing out Bill’s office.”
“You’re firing him?” My voice trembles. “You can’t,” I blurt out, not letting him get a word in. “Bill’s the one who runs this company. He’s the one who got the contracts worked out for Kelly Oil.”
His gaze bores through me. “You do realize I own the company now.” He pauses for a second while the statement filters through my brain. “The decision on who works here is mine and mine alone.”
“But…” I swallow hard. Memories of Bill, my father’s best friend, coming to our rescue time and time again over the years, filter through my mind. The words of encouragement, the helping hand, the way he always helped make things right. How can I possibly let this happen?
“Nothing’s final,” he says, relenting. “I have to see what I find in this review. Then I can make an informed decision.”
The strain on my shoulders lets up the tiniest bit. There’s still a ray of hope. The coding can be updated or fixed. I’ll figure out a way to get it done by Monday, even if I don’t manage any sleep.
But what about Bill’s expenses, which he is solely responsible for? Thirty thousand dollars is a lot of money, a year’s salary for some. To have any kind of chance, I need to get into that laptop and see if I can find anything to help fix the mess I made. If that means staying after Addler leaves or coming back later, I’ll do it.
“Okay, I’m here to help in any way possible.” My stomach chooses that moment to remind me it’s sitting empty.
Addler raises an eyebrow then looks down at my less-than-tiny waist. “You rushed out since you were late and didn’t take the time to eat.”
I can’t say how much it annoys me he can figure me out so easily. Worse, that he can make me feel foolish with little to no effort. “Yes,” I reply, dejected.
He exhales loudly. “Well, I’m not waiting two or three hours for you to get to town and back.” He closes the laptop and turns back to the desk.
He’s leaving? My heartbeat races. I couldn’t have planned this better if I’d tried. “I’m sorry.” I manage to add the proper amount of chagrin, even though inside, I’m jumping for joy at the prospect of having time to snoop. “We can pick this up early tomorrow,” I suggest. “I’ll make sure I have an alarm set this time.”
He scoops up his keys and turns around, still holding the laptop. “Let’s go to the house.”
The world comes to a skidding stop. “What?” My mind can’t get past the fact Addler de Marco wants to take me home with him. Not to mention how many people I know would give a year of their life to be in my shoes.
“You need some food, and I’d like to get out of this damn place before I roast.”
“Uh…” The prospect of going to the ranch owner’s house, the de Marco home, isn’t anywhere in the plan. The flash of awareness, the chemistry that flares up between us sometimes, sets off all sorts of alarms inside me.
He raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you’re here to help in any way possible?”
He would throw that back in my face. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Now, in a quick turn of events, I have to decide how I’m going to handle being alone with the man who had the whole town calling me a slut.