Kiss Me Tomorrow

Chapter 2

Adrian's POV

Lena Hart didn't run.

That was the first thing I noticed.

Most people did.

Not literally.

They didn't sprint out of my office or make excuses to leave. They simply found reasons to create distance whenever they realized I knew something they hadn't expected me to know.

Lena didn't.

She sat across from me with my folder between us, her fingers resting against its edge.

Her face was calm.

Too calm.

But I noticed the slight tension in her jaw.

She was afraid.

She just didn't want me to know.

Interesting.

"How long have you had this?" she asked.

Her voice was steady.

"Long enough."

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

Her eyes narrowed.

There it was again.

That fire.

It was one of the reasons I'd chosen her.

Not the only reason.

But one of them.

She closed the folder.

"You had me investigated."

"No."

"You have private documents about my family."

"Yes."

"That's investigation."

"It's research."

She stared at me.

I almost smiled.

Almost.

"You're enjoying this," she said.

"No."

"You are."

"I find your reactions interesting."

"That's worse."

I leaned back.

She had been in my office for less than two hours, and somehow she'd already stopped treating me like the man whose company had hired her.

She was treating me like an irritating person.

I preferred that.

"Why me?" she asked.

There it was.

The question I'd expected from the moment she walked through the door.

I could have lied.

It would have been easy.

I could have told her that her firm had the best success rate.

That her previous campaigns were impressive.

That she was recommended by someone on my board.

All of those things were true.

None of them were the reason.

"You have a reputation for finding the truth."

She gave a humorless laugh.

"So do journalists."

"Journalists sell the truth."

"And I don't?"

"You decide what people should know."

She studied me.

"That's a very cynical way to describe my profession."

"It's an accurate one."

She stood.

"Then perhaps you hired the wrong person."

I looked at her.

"Why?"

"Because I don't protect lies."

Neither do I.

The words almost left my mouth.

Instead, I said, "Good."

She frowned.

I stood and walked toward the windows.

The city stretched beneath us, bright and restless.

"There's something you need to understand about this case."

"I'm listening."

"The scandal isn't what the media thinks it is."

"I assumed that."

"No."

I turned toward her.

"You don't understand."

She waited.

"The information leaked to the press came from inside the company."

Her expression changed.

"An employee?"

"Someone with access."

"Do you know who?"

"Not yet."

"Then why haven't you involved the police?"

"Because we don't know whether it's criminal."

"And you think my firm can find the leak?"

"No."

Her eyebrows drew together.

"Then what exactly do you want from me?"

"I want you to keep the company from collapsing while I find out who is doing it."

She stared at me.

"That's not what your board told my firm."

"I know."

"Then we're already starting with a problem."

"Yes."

She crossed her arms.

"You really don't make anything easy, do you?"

"No."

A quiet moment passed.

Then she asked, "What happened to my family?"

I knew that question would come.

I had hoped it wouldn't come so soon.

But Lena Hart had never been someone who waited when she wanted an answer.

"That's not part of your assignment."

"It became part of my assignment the moment you put that folder in front of me."

"Not everything is connected."

Her eyes sharpened.

"You said you knew my name before you knew my face."

"I did."

"Why?"

I looked at her.

Because your father once worked for mine.

Because eleven years ago, something happened that destroyed your family's life.

Because my father never told me the whole truth.

Because your name appeared in documents I found while investigating the scandal threatening my company.

Because when I saw your application on my desk, I recognized the name immediately.

Because I wanted to know whether the woman behind that name had anything to do with what happened.

And because, somewhere between researching you and meeting you, I had become curious.

Too curious.

But I couldn't tell her all of that.

Not yet.

"Your father worked for Vale Industries," I said.

Her expression changed.

"I know."

"He wasn't just an employee."

"I know that too."

"Do you know what he was accused of?"

Her lips pressed together.

"Stealing."

I nodded.

"And do you believe he did it?"

She looked away.

That was the first time I'd seen her confidence disappear.

"I was thirteen."

"I know."

"I don't remember everything."

"You remember enough."

She looked back at me.

"I remember my mother crying."

Her voice was quieter now.

"I remember people staring at us."

I said nothing.

"I remember my father telling me he didn't do it."

She swallowed.

"And then he disappeared from our lives."

I had read the reports.

But hearing her say it was different.

Much more uncomfortable.

"Your father wasn't guilty," I said.

Her eyes widened.

"What?"

"I don't believe he was."

She took a step toward me.

"Then who was?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You have documents."

"I have pieces."

"Then find the rest."

I stared at her.

She was angry now.

Not at me.

At the past.

At the unanswered questions.

At the years she'd spent carrying something that had never belonged to her.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do."

Her expression softened for half a second.

Then she caught herself.

"Why?"

"Because it affects my company."

She laughed quietly.

"There it is."

"What?"

"The excuse."

I said nothing.

"You could have simply told me you wanted to investigate my father."

"I didn't hire you for that."

"But you knew I'd ask."

"Eventually."

"And you still hired me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

I looked at her.

Because you were the only person I found who had a reason to hate my family and still built a career without destroying ours.

Because I needed someone who would question me.

Because I needed someone who wouldn't be impressed by my name.

And because, after everything I'd read about you, I wanted to know what kind of woman you had become.

Instead, I said,

"Because you're good."

She studied me for several seconds.

Then she picked up her folder.

"I'm going to need access to every financial report related to the scandal."

"You'll have it."

"Every internal communication."

"Yes."

"Your board members' schedules."

"Within reason."

"That's not what I said."

"I know."

She sighed.

"You're impossible."

"I've been told."

She moved toward the door.

"Lena."

She stopped.

I didn't know why I'd called her name.

Maybe because I didn't want the conversation to end.

Maybe because there was one thing I needed her to understand.

"Don't trust anyone in this company."

She turned around.

"Not even you?"

I held her gaze.

"Especially not me."

Something unreadable crossed her face.

Then she opened the door.

"Good."

She walked out.

The door closed behind her.

I stood alone in the silence.

For the first time in months, the investigation didn't feel like the most dangerous thing on my desk.

I looked at the empty chair where she'd been sitting.

Lena Hart was going to ask questions.

She was going to dig.

She was going to find things I'd spent years trying to understand.

And eventually, she was going to discover why her father's name had appeared in my family's records.

I had known that when I hired her.

What I hadn't expected was how quickly I would want to know her.

That was a problem.

A serious one.

I reached for the folder containing her file.

I opened it again.

There was a photograph I'd stared at more times than I cared to admit.

A thirteen-year-old girl standing beside her mother outside a courthouse.

That girl had grown into the woman who had just walked out of my office.

I closed the file.

I had promised myself I would keep this simple.

Find the truth.

Protect the company.

Keep Lena out of it.

But I was beginning to realize something.

Lena Hart wasn't going to stay out of it.

And neither was I.

My phone vibrated.

A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.

You should not have hired her.

I stared at it.

Another message arrived.

She'll find out what happened.

Then a third.

And when she does, she'll hate you for it.

I slowly lowered the phone.

For the first time that morning, I wasn't thinking about the scandal.

I was thinking about Lena.

And the one thing I couldn't afford to let happen.

She couldn't find out the truth yet.