Page 6 of Hooked on Marshall (Hooked #9)
I purposely avoided looking at Lana while I was talking to my new staff earlier.
I was afraid that my face would give me away.
But now that she’s right here in my office, I’m fighting like hell to control my physical reaction to her.
While she sits, I take a deep breath and settle in the chair beside her.
Then, I lean forward and brace my elbows on my knees.
Mostly to keep this casual, but mainly to hide my growing arousal.
“So,” I sigh. “Tell me a little about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
Everything .
“Well, where are you from?”
“Right here in Willow Point,” she laughs.
“What?You’re kidding.”
“No,” she says. “Why would I be?”
“I just…how did I…”
“How did you what?”
I take a deep breath and try to express myself in a way that won’t sound…creepy.
“I just can’t believe I’ve never seen you before,” I tell her.
“We were never in high school together,” she says. “Mark and I chatted about it. I wasn’t a freshman until two years after you graduated.”
Okay. So, she’s five years younger than me. I can work with that.
“Okay,” I nod. “What did you do after you graduated?”
“I earned a bachelor's in marketing with a minor in digital design,” she says almost painfully.
“Wow,” I smile. “That’s great.”
“Except I’m not employed in my field right now.”
“Why is that?” I ask without thinking.
Something passes across her features. The same pained expression that I saw when she came in upset on Sunday. I’m about to apologize and ask her what I can do to help when she shoots to her feet and checks her watch.
“We’re about to open,” she says as she squeezes past me. “I need to get out there.”
Without thinking, I grab her wrist and rise. When she turns to glare up at me, her breast presses against my arm. Which further complicates the issue behind my zipper.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I say softly.
Her eyes glisten with tears just as she nods.
“I know,” she whispers.
And with that, she pulls away from me and walks out of the office. I curse inwardly and walk behind the desk. I groan as I flop down into the seat. And since I’m probably not going to get much more from Lana today, I decide to see what I can find out on my own.
I open the file cabinet in the corner and pull out the employee file for Lana Rose.
Then I set it on my desk and open it. I scan her application and notice a previous address in the city.
Frowning, I look at her previous employers.
My eyes widen when I see the name of a well-known firm.
But when I look at her reason for leaving, it simply says ‘personal reasons.’
Unsatisfied, I put her file back and wake the computer.
Within a minute, I’m looking at a digital copy of her application, which also includes notes from Mark.
If there are any. When I hover my mouse over the hyperlink, I take a deep breath before clicking it.
A split second later, there’s a half page narrative.
I let out a soft sigh and start reading the first entry made two weeks after she was hired.
Still unsure of her reason for departure, but after reaching out to a personal contact at the company, I was informed that she was very good at her trade.
After only a year and a half, she was up for a big promotion that would put her in charge of her first client account.
For reasons known only to upper management, she resigned without notice.
No one would answer my calls of inquiry.
The next entry is…the day before Mark was killed.
Lana approached me about some new marketing strategies for the Alehouse today.
She had already done some preliminary work and damn if I wasn’t impressed.
I gave her the go ahead to move forward with her ideas.
Still don’t know why she left such an established firm, but I have a feeling that their loss will be my gain.
And if I can, I’ll see that she can put her talents to use around town, too.
I’m smiling as I read this last bit. Because I want to do the same for her.
My only problem is finding a way to bring up this conversation without her thinking I was doing any digging.
Of course, I could just admit that I was going over Mark’s files and tell her that he was impressed enough to make a note of his conversation with her.
That won’t be as bad as admitting I was desperate to know more about her.
Satisfied with that course of action, I spend the first hour of business running through the books and inventory.
Once that’s done, I hit the front of the house to check on business.
As I expected, things are hopping for a Saturday afternoon.
Especially since the fall weather is still hovering at the perfect temperature where only a sweater or sweatshirt is necessary.
What I don’t expect is for Lana to keep up with her continued avoidance of me.
Something that I would like to put a stop to sooner rather than later.
In order to at least exchange a few words with her, I put myself behind the bar.
Making sure to be at the side counter almost every time she is.
By the time she took her break, I could tell that she was frustrated.
But she never let it affect her interactions with the customers.
Something that I’ve quickly come to appreciate.
Along with almost every other thing about her.
Just before she has to get back to work, I walk out back to toss some trash.
I’m about to walk back inside when I hear a soft sob.
I pause and wait until I hear it again. When I do, I walk around the corner of the building only to find Lana there.
She’s squatting down, her back against the wall, and her face buried in her left hand while her right has a death grip on her phone.
Instantly furious that someone has put her in this state, again, I step forward. Determined to get to the bottom of this. Today.