Page 86 of Theirs to Hunt

I sit, open the folder Grayson gave me, and start reviewing the flagged departments.

Most of it’s subtle. Nothing screams crisis. Just patterns. Slippage. Small leaks that exceed normal parameters once you know where to look.

Marketing’s on the list. Not high up. Not glaring red. But something about it makes me pause.

It isn’t the numbers. Not the invoices. It’s him. Jeff.

That last conversation, the one where he made the offhand comment about Genevieve stepping on toes.

At the time, my mind was elsewhere.

But it’s been echoing since.

How would he know? Was he involved? He acted like I already knew more than I did. Like I’d be scared to push back.

I wasn’t then. I’m sure as hell not now.

And now I have the clearance to dig.

I stand, smooth my skirt, and grab the audit file.

If he wants to act untouchable, he picked the wrong woman.

Grayson told me we’d loop Devon in on anything suspicious. Said there were departments he couldn’t fully trust.

Chapter seventy-one

Reagan, Monday 02:30

The marketing floor smells like stress and overused cologne.

I scan the open-concept space, all glass walls and fake succulents, until my gaze lands on the man I came for.

Jeff. Also known as Elevator Boy. Also known as Creepy Jeff.

Currently demoted to a sad side office that used to be a supply closet.

I knock twice and step in without waiting.

He startles. Didn’t expect me, which says a lot for a man who usually oozes smug.

“Reagan,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “To what do I owe the honor? Come to gloat because you couldn’t handle a few compliments from me? Had to run to HR?”

I raise an eyebrow.

I could bite back. Pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about.

But he’s not worth it.

I hold up a slim folder.

"We did an audit. Your expenses got flagged. Honestly, it reads like a bad script ofMad Men,all scotch andcigarettes, minus the charm. ‘Entertainment – 2 hours.’ ‘Medical supplements.’ Not exactly subtle. Finance flagged it. I’m just here to tie the bow."

He snorts.

“That’s rich. Promoted five minutes ago and now you’re in charge of audits?”

“No.” I flip the file open. “But I’m in charge of special projects. And you just became one.”