Page 81 of Artifice

There was no good way to ask the question. Any way she worded it, her inquiry would sound accusatory. Besides, if someone in his family—probably his dad—was somehow involved, Olive didn’t want to tip them off.

It seemed nothing about her life was simple. Ever.

“I can’t talk very much about my day,” she finally said. “So why don’t you tell me about yours? I could use a distraction.”

He let out a breath. “What is there to say about Conglomerate?”

Conglomerate was the tech business where he served as head of security. It was where they’d first reconnected when Olive had been on assignment there—using an alias, of course.

They’d stayed in touch ever since and had even been able to see each other last month when Jason himself hired Olive to investigate a young mother who’d solicited thousands of dollars in donations for a fake illness.

“Has Conglomerate been keeping you busy?” Olive finally pushed.

“Yes, it has been.”

“Then why do I get the sense you’re bored?”

He’d been an Army Ranger before leaving the service and accepting this cushy new job.

“The job is fine,” Jason said. “I get paid well so I can’t complain.”

Jason didn’t even need to get paid well. He’d been adopted, and later on in life his biological grandfather had found him. In a short period of time, his bio granddad had changed his will and left all his money to Jason.

And by all his money, Olive meantallhis money. The man had been loaded. And he’d passed away within only months of first meeting Jason.

“Not enough excitement for you at Conglomerate?” Olive pressed further.

“Maybe. I guess I’m used to being out in the field playing a more active role. Here I’m mostly monitoring people who come and go, developing emergency plans, and checking in with everyone under me to make sure they’re doing their jobs.”

They chatted for several more minutes. Then before they got off the phone, Jason asked, “Do you know yet when I might be able to see you again?”

Her muscles tightened, even though she’d known that the question was coming.

But maybe it was a good thing Jason had asked. Maybe she could set a deadline for herself. Sometimes not making a decision felt worse than just deciding on something.

“I finish this assignment on Saturday”—she hoped—“and then I’ll be heading back to Indianapolis.”

“I could meet you there Saturday evening. Would that work for you?”

Her pulse quickened at the thought of it.

Could she have answers for him by Saturday? And what if she didn’t? Should she meet and pretend as if nothing were wrong?

Those were the questions she had to contend with.

She contemplated on how she should answer before finally agreeing.

But she hoped she didn’t regret this.

CHAPTER 43

TWELVE YEARS AGO

Olive tucked her hair behind her ear as she waited outside Headmaster Sheffield’s office.

The hallway seemed different today—quieter, more tense.

Olive clutched her geometry textbook to her chest, pretending to study while she watched the office door through her lashes.