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Fletcher leaned forward, his chin wrinkling the way it did when he was confused. “Why? What did she say?”
“She pretended not to recognize me.”
“Huh.” Fletcher stared off into space, looking at a point somewhere behind him. “That is weird.”
Garrett snorted. It wasn’t weird. It was fucking maddening. “Clearly, she didn’t expect to run into me before she got what she wanted.”
Fletcher frowned. “What does she want?”
“What all corporate spies want.” He resumed pacing. “To steal company secrets.”
His partner’s mouth went slack. “That’swhat you think?”
“What else could it be?”
Garrett was going to wear a fucking hole in this carpet. He needed to do something more productive, like punching through a wall.
“It has to be the Danbury group,” he decided. “They have been out to get us since we snaked the Montevalle Resorts deal out from under them.”
Not to mention the two very lucrative deals before that.
Garrett had put it all together on the ride back from the elevator. It was too much of a coincidence that Emma Mendez, his only serious competition in high school, would be working in this very building making lattes.
But Bryce Danbury hated him enough to dig up his old high school rival and set her up to spy on him. He could feel the back of his neck begin to burn in irritation. Hell, her mere presence in this building was enough to completely knock him out of equilibrium.
Jesus, just how much did Danbury know about him?
Fletcher appeared to be on the same wavelength. He wiped his forehead, which had begun to bead with sweat. But he appeared intent on playing devil’s advocate.
“So, Emma chose to base her spy operation in the coffee shop? If corporate espionage is her plan, wouldn’t a janitorial position be better? She’d have after-hours access. Or better yet why didn’t she apply for an analyst position where she could easily get insider information? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Garrett shrugged. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Not to us. But I’m willing to bet it does to her. Besides, she must have known we’d never hire her as an analyst.”
Fletcher sighed. “Yes, I guess that’s true. The two of you were oil and water. It’s a wonder you two made it to graduation without strangling each other. As I recall you two came close that one time in debate—remember when she creamed you arguing against carbon credits?”
“I recall that day differently.” Garrett sniffed. “And I stand by my argument. Carbon offsets are imperfect but better than nothing.”
Fletcher drummed his fingers on his desk. “Emma was the only one who could out-argue you. I swear I never saw anyone else drive you that crazy.”
Garrett narrowed his eyes. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“What?” Fletcher’s expression was suspiciously mild.
He crossed his arms. “I don’t need you installing her in a job up here so you can watch her argue with me.”
“Hell, I wouldn’t do that,” Fletcher said, his tone dead serious. “No. I’m with you. We need to get rid of her before she does whatever she is here to do. Good news is, we can do that. It’s easy. You’re on theDe Ollaboard. That means you’re her boss. Better yet, her boss’ boss. Just tell Ortiz to fire her.”
Send Emma packing without finding out whatshe was up to?
“No.” He shook his head instinctively. “That’s not possible.”
“What? Why not?”
Good question. But the answer came to him quickly. “There was this thing with some of the guys on the floor below. I can’t fire her without it looking as if I’m siding with them. I’d be inviting a lawsuit.”
Fletcher scowled. “A lawsuit for what?”
“Never mind.” Garrett had made up his mind. “I’m going to deal with this.”