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of paper over to her. She started taking notes, even wrote out a nice header and remembered the date. Then she had to fight off the urge to doodle.

      “We have a problem,” Forest said as Wen joined him on that side of the table.

      Ryan nodded as he leaned back in his chair, trying to give off a sense of security and failing badly when the sweat collected on his forehead. “I understood you had all the information you needed to move forward with our partnership on the new waterfront deal.”

      Jordan’s head popped up. She listened, because information was her real business. She didn’t care about dictating or notes or commercial real estate, but anything that brought money into D.C. connected to power and politics. If new players moved in, she needed to know them and be prepared to see their names appear on her website.

      After Forest nodded, Wen started talking. “We thought we owed you an in-person meeting, mostly because of our historic relationship with your father and this firm.”

      “A very positive relationship.” Ryan sat up again. “One I intend to continue.”

      Forest cleared his throat and all movement in the room stopped. The clock ticked on the wall behind Jordan, but she didn’t dare turn around and glance at it. Not when every inch of Forest, from his straight back to the slow way he moved his fingertips across the tabletop, commanded attention.

      “And therein lies the problem,” he said.

      Therein? Jordan knew that wasn’t a good sign. Whenever the “’twas” and “furthermore” comments came out, all hell was about to break loose.

      Ryan must have figured that out, as well, because the skin around his mouth tightened and the sweat raced out of him now. “What do you mean?”

      “You are not your father.” Forest put a beat of air between each word.

      And that certainly stopped the collective breath of the room. Her pen dropped against the pad with a soft thud. The tick in Forest’s jaw mesmerized her. So did his long, lean fingers and the way he braced them on the table in front of him.

      Wen took a white envelope out of his inside jacket pocket and slid it across the table to Ryan. “The financial audit raised some concerns.”

      Ryan glanced at it, then at her, then back to Forest. “Clearly, we’ve all experienced some negative cash-flow problems over the last few years in this financial market.”

      Forest didn’t even blink. “I haven’t.”

      As far as comebacks went, Jordan thought that was a pretty good one. As someone who got laid off from her job when the financial world went wacky and the large law firm she worked for—the same one that everyone said could never go under—broke apart then shut its doors, she had some empathy for job loss and rough times.

      But she’d picked herself back up again. Worked exactly three days at a department-store fragrance counter until she accidentally sprayed a wealthy regular customer in the face with some rancid-smelling perfume. Yeah, it had nothing to do with the lady directing Jordan to clean up after her little yapping dog who’d pooped in front of the luxury-night-cream display.

      But now Jordan had Need to Know. She’d come up with the idea and made it happen. As fast as she’d predicted, it was making money and she was determined to keep it that way.

      “I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Ryan swallowed hard enough to make his throat bobble. “I thought we had a deal.”

      “We said we might be able to make a deal work and enter into a contract, pending an audit and other reviews of your management style and compatibility with our structure.”

      Jordan was pretty impressed with Forest’s statement. He’d managed to use all those words and barely say anything. The man could be a lawyer. Then she remembered that was one of his degrees. Score one for overeducated people everywhere.

      Forest pushed up to his feet and Wen joined him. “I don’t see a partnership happening.”

      “Wait... I...” Ryan’s sputtering continued for a good thirty seconds. “What other reviews about me?”

      Oh, Jordan could think of some. No fewer than four women had filed reports on Ryan and not one of them had a decent thing to say about the spoiled-kid-turned-businessman. Thanks to his father’s heart attack, he sat in the Big Boy office chair, but it was clear the company’s management staff was pressuring the family to put someone else in charge, which was why Ryan needed this deal. Which also explained why his face had turned an odd shade of purple.

      Instead of answering, Forest turned to her. “Maybe now would be a good time for you to leave us.”

      Fine with her. She had a date with a glass of wine and a pair of pink fluffy slippers. Her plan was to grab the few things off her desk and keep walking until she hit the metro. “Of course.”

      Ryan stood with a jerk, and his chair crashed to the floor. “She doesn’t work for you.”

      She actually didn’t work for anyone but herself, and that’s just the way she liked it. No strings. No crappy boss.

      Forest slowly turned to face Ryan. “I doubt you want a temp hearing the rest of this conversation.”

      With that, the air visibly rushed out of Ryan’s chest and he leaned hard into the table. “Right.”

      That was her cue to take off and she was grateful. Without another word, she headed for the door. She hesitated when her fingers touched the knob. A quick glance over her shoulder clued her into the reason for the tickling sensation at the back of her neck. Wen and Ryan talked in hushed tones with bowed heads. But not Forest. Nope, he stared right at her. Green eyes, dark look and concentrated focus.

      Her hand shook as she fumbled with the door. There were few certainties in life, but she knew without any doubt that Forest Redder could mess up her plans. She ran out before that could happen.

      Chapter Two

      Subject Report on Cam Matthews: When check came, he said dinner was on me. Then he said, “that’s real equality for you.” —Member 14

      Need to Know admin staff: Confirmed payment.

      FOREST CLAMPED HIS back teeth together to keep from shouting. He still thought about making a lunge for the keys jangling in Wen’s hand. After the messed-up excuse for a meeting with Ryan that lasted forty-five minutes longer than planned, Forest’s patience had expired.

      He’d voted for delivering the bad news via conference call. Wen was the one who’d insisted they visit Ryan in person. As far as Forest was concerned, that meant Wen was solely to blame for the wasted work time and having to listen to a grown man swear, grovel and cry. The last part made Forest’s head pound. It also got him up and out of the conference-room chair in about two seconds. He didn’t need to be a part of that sort of nonsense.

      He and Wen made it off the elevator and halfway to the guest spot in the underground parking garage before Wen started talking again. “That went well.”

      Leave it to Wen to try to find the positive in a heaping pile of negative. “Not for Peterson.”

      “I meant for us.”

      “Then, yes.” But Forest wasn’t convinced that was true, either. Now they had to double back and restart the process with a new construction team. He wanted the project moving. The preparation meetings were pissing him off.

      Their shoes clicked against the pavement as they snaked through the lines of parked cars. The steady beat echoed around them. Forest tried to concentrate on the hammering, but the face of Ryan’s temp kept edging into his mind. He’d caught only her last name—McAdam.

      Not that he cared.

      Sure, the long wavy brunette hair was hot. The slim skirt and pink shirt that skimmed her body all worked for him. And the face, round and pretty with big brown eyes...

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