Page 39 of My Office Rival (Keep Your Enemy Closer #2)

JASON

T his was bad. That stupid conversation between Gene and one of his minions had blown everything up. Now I needed to come clean with Cynthia and probably face the fact that this deal was going to go up in flames.

My hands gripped the steering wheel, guiding the car toward the house, where I would need to tell her everything. I could already see her turning the interaction over in her head, looking for clues. That brilliant mind of hers would figure it all out without me, if given enough time.

“It was Gene,” she said as we pulled into the driveway.

“I knew that voice sounded familiar. It was fucking Gene Delafonte.” Triumph was apparent in her voice.

She leaped out of the car and paced the driveway.

“But what the hell was he doing?” Her eyes lifted to mine, and I saw suspicion, wariness, in her gaze. “What’s going on?”

I sighed and opened the front door. “Let’s chat in here.”

We sat at the kitchen table like it was a conference room negotiation. Cynthia crossed her arms. I leaned back in my chair.

“Well? Spill it.” Her words were hard. I couldn’t blame her .

“I think my clients are laundering money.” Simple, stark words. I hadn’t been brave enough to say them to myself, even.

“What the fuck?” She breathed. She searched my face, and I gave her a half smile. That’s right. It’s just as bad as it sounds.

“Yeah. I know. I was obviously avoiding telling you, but that’s impossible now.”

She looked thoughtful. “Okay, so they’re laundering money. Thus, all the Bermuda subsidiaries. But that conversation. That wasn’t just white-collar crime. Gene was talking about physical threats.” She frowned. “Are they in the mob?”

Beautiful, brilliant woman. She was figuring it all out.

“I’m not sure, but I’m starting to think they might be.

” Her soft brown eyes flared with shock.

I’d been carrying this fear, this concern for weeks, and my shoulders sagged with relief as I shared it with her.

“Think about it. There’s been no litigation because who in their right mind would sue the mafia ? ”

“Shit.” She slumped back in her chair. “And the shadiness with the permits. They’re bribing city officials, aren’t they?”

“Probably.” I grimaced. Any minute now, she would pull the plug on this deal.

“Man, you weren’t kidding when you said that this family was sketchy,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table.

“Jason, I…I don’t want to back out of this, but I don’t know what to do.

” She looked so vulnerable at that moment.

My stomach dropped. This was it. My origination credit was gone, and it would be another year, or two, before I could strike out on my own, have that independence I so desperately needed.

You owe us. Hopefully, before my past came back to haunt me.

“I figured. I understand.” At this point, I was resigned to it.

“I needed this break, though.” The words were scratchy, broken.

When I looked up at her, it looked like she was ready to cry.

I shoved out of my chair, not thinking, and pulled her against my chest. I buried my face in her silky hair, the curls tickling my chin, and her shampoo scent filling my nose.

She pressed against me and I tightened my arms around her until she relaxed. This feels too good, too right.

“Tell me,” I commanded.

“I have to get this deal over the finish line, with the best terms possible for our client. I have to win. If I don’t, I’m out.” Her voice was muffled, and I pulled back just enough to see her face wet with tears.

“They gave you the talk?”

She nodded and my chest ached. Every big firm lawyer knew what “the talk” was.

The conversation every one of us dreaded.

The thanks-for-your-wasted-youth talk. The we’ll-help-you-find-something-else talk.

I couldn’t imagine Cynthia getting it, though.

She was a shark. The perfect person to run deals and kick ass.

“ You got the talk? I find that hard to believe,” I said.

Her lips tilted up in a sad imitation of a smile, before she stepped out of my arms and dropped heavily into her chair. I felt the loss of her warmth keenly, a throb in my chest that wouldn’t stop.

“Why? My heart’s not in it,” she said.

“I know, but you’re a killer attorney. You love to win, you love to be right. I know, because you do it to me all the time.”

She finally gave me a real smile, and the throbbing in my chest quieted slightly.

“Any luck on the job front?”

“I’ve applied to a few more roles.” She chewed her lip. “Nothing is panning out. And even if I do hear back, I don’t know if I have the courage to actually accept one of those jobs.” That throbbing in my chest was back.

“What do you mean?” I kept my voice gentle.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” She shook her head again, smiling a bit.

“It’s just the way it’s always been. If you’re me, you don’t just quit your corporate law job.

You don’t give up half a million dollars a year, not when that’s more than your parents have made in the last five years combined.

” Her eyes were shadowed, sad, and I wanted to hug her again.

“You deserve to be happy,” I said, instead .

“You sound like my brother,” she responded, but her voice was light.

“Well, maybe he’s right.” I reached over and snagged her hand. Her eyes went wide but she didn’t pull away. I feathered my thumb over her knuckles, thrilling at just that small touch. “Promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me, if you get an interview for one of those jobs you actually want, that you’ll take it.”

She inhaled sharply. “Why?”

Because you deserve to be happy. Because I can’t bear to watch you take on everyone’s burdens and leave nothing for yourself. But I couldn’t tell her that.

“You said you would lean in, remember? This is part of that. And if that’s not enough, then do it for me.”

I thought she would argue or ask why I cared. But instead, all she said was, “I promise.”

I wanted to gather her in my arms, to kiss her until she couldn’t think. Instead, I gave her the only thing I could, a true smile, one that made her smile back, her eyes crinkling with pleasure. At least until her face fell.

“So, what the hell are we going to do?” She tapped her fingers on the table again, looking thoughtful.

“Honestly, not a lot of what we’ve learned is concrete.

And it’s not enough to blow up this deal.

I mean, if H Brands is really involved in criminal activity, we’ll be tearing up the term sheet faster than you can say cow tipping, but until then…

” She blew out a breath. “I hate to say this, but I think we might need to investigate.”

I sat up straighter at that. “No fucking way.” My heart thudded at even the idea of investigating these people.

I had been down this road before, and it had not ended well.

“We are not investigating them. We are not investigators. We are corporate lawyers. Leave this to the professionals.” With each word, her brows drew lower.

“Who even are the professionals in this instance? The FBI, CIA, the DOJ? I’m not blowing up my career for a hunch, Jason, and neither should you,” she shot back.

“I know better than to get involved with criminals! It doesn’t work out,” I burst out.

Her eyes went wide at that, her perfectly pouty lower lip dropping in surprise. “Why does it sound like you’re speaking from experience?”