Page 21 of Recovering Ivy (Red Team #4)

“Let’s go over it again, knowing what you know about Forester now. Does it shed light on anything you thought was strange or didn’t seem right?”

She sat in the seat in front of my desk and wrapped both hands around her coffee cup.

“I don’t know. I always thought it was weird he only met with the same three hookers.

I don’t know why, I guess he could’ve had his favorites, but it was odd.

They all kind of looked alike. I’d think if a man was paying for it, he’d want to change it up.

But, then again, maybe he had a type. Nothing Forester did was normal.

He’d leave work, go home, not change his clothes, leave and go to a hotel, meet a woman, then leave there. What signifies as strange?”

“If he didn’t change did he drop something off at home or pick something up? ”

Ivy took a moment and thought about my question.

“Yeah. He’d always leave with a backpack,” she said.

“He took a backpack to his meetings? Did he ever leave the hotels with the backpack?”

I pulled up the pictures both Declan and Ivy had taken. Sure enough there was the backpack. I scrolled through the pictures and Ivy answered.

“No. That’s weird, right? I don’t ever remember him leaving the hotel with any bag.”

“So, he gave the women the backpack to take with them.”

I continued to look through the pictures but no one had captured the women leaving. Our target had been Forester, not the prostitutes. I picked up the landline on my desk and dialed Garrett’s extension.

“What’s up?” he answered.

“I need you to pull the security feeds from the hotels Forester frequented. I’ll email you the dates and times. We’re looking for footage of the women leaving. Cross-reference any bags they’re carrying out with the bag Forester carried in.”

“Copy that.”

I replaced the handset, disconnecting the call, and emailed Garrett the dates and times I needed him to pull.

“What should I be doing?” Ivy asked.

I looked up from my computer and immediately thought of a multitude of things she could be doing.

However, none of them were work related and all suggestions would probably be met with outrage.

I couldn’t help it. She was sexy as hell sitting across from me.

The woman screamed sex. She didn’t have to do or say anything, she was a natural.

I doubted she understood her appeal. It went beyond her appearance.

She was frustratingly independent and argumentative.

She refused to take orders and would speak her mind when she thought I was being rude or bossy.

However, when she knew it was time to concede, she did so without too much fuss.

I stayed away from women like her, instead picking up easy, docile women that wouldn’t question my authority or ones so desperate to make an impression they blindly obeyed, thinking that would somehow impress me.

It didn’t. I found those women to be doormats and had very little respect for a woman that wouldn’t stand up for herself.

Those women posed no threat, none of them could ever keep my attention.

Ivy had no issue telling me to shove it up my ass if I pissed her off.

It was hot as shit and made her the perfect woman.

The exact type I’d avoided at all costs.

Now here she was sitting across from me after spending multiple nights in my bed. I was fucked.

The biggest problem I was facing was I wanted to keep her. I’d thrown every well-thought-out rule I lived by out the window. Not only that, her sharp tongue and soft hands had managed to get past the reinforced steel wall complete with razor sharp concertina wire I kept around me at all times.

“How proficient are you in Excel?” I asked.

“Don’t you think that is something you should’ve found out during the interview process?” she sassed.

“You wanna talk about my hiring practices or you want to get to work?”

“Yes, I’m proficient with all MS Office products.”

“Good. Did Garrett set you up with a log in and email?”

“Yep.”

I opened a new email window and typed in her company email address, attached the files she’d need, and hit send.

“It’s Friday. I need all the guys’ timesheets for the jobs they’re working on. I sent you last week’s report as well to use as a reference. All jobs are number coded, each team member also has a numerical code…”

“If you sent me last week’s, I’m sure I can figure it out. If I have any questions I’ll ask Rena,” she cut me off.

“Go ahead, Miss Smarty Pants. But if you have questions, you’ll come to me. I don’t want you going out front.”

“Zane,” she protested.

“Serious as shit, woman. Don’t test me on this.

You go past the security door and I’ll tan your ass.

That’s a promise. You can use Rena’s office.

” Her brows drew together, and she gave me her best fuck off face before she headed for the door.

Before she could exit, I called out. “We’ll leave for lunch at noon. ”

She slammed the door behind her and I sat back in my high-back executive chair and wondered if her tiny frame would fit under my desk.

Her sweet mouth around my cock while I read through daily SITREPs would make the tedious work a hell of a lot more enjoyable.

I couldn’t help the smile that formed when I thought about what her reaction would be if I made the suggestion.

Yeah, the little hellcat would be pissed.