“And now you’re an angel investor.”
“That term makes us sound like nice guys who just make everybody happy, when in reality it’s almost an oxymoron.” He squeezed her hand. “But I’ve been extremely fortunate in my business career, and I’ve always looked for opportunities to pay back what I was given.”
Men are so strange, Lark thought. Dylan had been so eager to show her his best qualities, so relentless in highlighting them that after only a few months there were none left to discover. Meanwhile, his inability to work hard and fulfill his ambitions had grown more apparent by the day.
Then there was Trip, who seemed content to listen to her and never wanted to talk about himself, but who had a story as compelling as anyone she’d ever met. Who’d suffered horrible hurt as a young man but managed to carry himself with an unbelievably appealing confidence. Who’d come from almost nothing and given himself almost everything.
Except love. He was dropping hints about it but seemed to be worried about pushing her too far, too fast. Thinking of her feelings, not his.
Suddenly Lark was lifted on a tidal rush of feeling, a euphoria that physically warmed her and made her downright giddy.
He saw something change in her face.
“What?” he asked wonderingly.
She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
“I love you, Trip Mitchell,” she said.
Chapter Eleven
JESSICA
When your name is at the top of the org chart, there’s only one person who needs to know everything: you.
—“How I Lied about My Name and Discovered My Truth,” a TED Talk by Jon M. Wright
Jessica wished there were some way she could avoid Philip on her route to the coffee station. So tall and gawky his shiny, slightly rectangular forehead cleared the upper edge of his cubicle, Philip and his compulsive need to voice his unfiltered inner monologue harried passersby like a one-man gauntlet. As she went for her first cup, he’d told her, You look good in blue, but I prefer that gray dress you wear on Wednesdays. The remark left her wondering if she actually did wear her gray Calvin Klein dress only on Wednesdays. She didn’t want to engage with him any more than she had to, which was why she waited for him to go to the men’s room before she zipped down the hallway, quickly refilled her mug, and hustled back to her office.
She almost made it.
“Jessica?”
She had no choice but to stop, turn, and brace herself for whatever uncomfortable and starkly honest brain fart he was about to let loose.
“I’m finished comparing those results you emailed me.”
“Darn it,” she said, relieved that he was actually talking about work but kicking herself for failing to confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, done anything with them after saying they were outside his purview. “I forgot to tell you not to worry about it.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, we’ve broken ties with the lab that provided the outlier results.”
“And for another?”
“Come into my office,” Jessica said, ushering Philip down the hall.
He even moved awkwardly, as though his limbs were new and he still hadn’t read the manual.
Once inside, Jessica closed the door. After Jon’s surprising blowup, which had been followed by an evening of epic makeup sex, he’d shared some information that was supposed to be for her eyes only. She had no choice but to show it to Philip now—somehow she just knew he would keep asking until she did.
“Jon was aware of the consistency problem with the lab in question, so he employed an additional outside lab to run another series of tests on the exact same samples.” She handed him a copy of the data Jon had emailed to her. “The latest testing matches our in-house results precisely.”
Philip rubbed the spot on his arm where she’d touched him while guiding him through her door. “Curious.”
“How so?” she asked, hoping his answer corresponded to the data in question and not the fact that her hand had briefly made contact with his body.
“These numbers are literally identical to the blood tests used as controls. Even with the same patients, and the same Revelate machine, there are typically minute variations.”
Jessica stared at the printouts, comparing fine-printed lines of data. Seeing that what he was saying was true. It was as though the in-house results had literally been copied.
“It’s possible they’ve done some upgrades to the Revelate I wouldn’t be aware of,” Philip said, adding quickly, “I’m sure that’s it.”
“If so, why wouldn’t Jon have told me?” asked Jessica.
Philip rubbed his arm again, making Jessica wonder if she’d given him a new and long-lasting tic. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but around here, most things are on a need-to-know basis.”
Jon had made her promise she’d come to him about anything, big or small, and said he’d never overreact again. He’d flown in early this morning and was currently in the office, though he was leaving early for Barrington Hills to see his daughter’s play and make nice with Holly in advance of an upcoming court date.
Jessica felt bad for Jon and his kids. He’d admitted that part of his stress was also due to the concussion Holly had been claiming she’d suffered and which she’d used once again as an excuse when she conveniently “forgot” to tell him his daughter’s opening-night performance in The Music Man was going to be on a Thursday instead of the traditional Friday night.
Jessica reassured him, telling him he was a great dad and that any disappointment Paige felt about his missing the premiere would be immediately forgotten once she saw him in the audience tonight. Still, she hated sending Jon back into enemy territory knowing Annie Wilkes was lying in wait, plotting further
