She’s nervous.

She’s also knockout gorgeous.

“She’s hired,” David murmurs from behind me, watching their approach.

I shoot him a warning look.

“What?” He shrugs innocently. “I’ve always wanted an assistant who I carry around in my pocket.”

As covertly as possible, I elbow David in the ribs before stepping forward. “Renée, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Piper Calloway.”

For as tiny as she may be, she has a broad smile that takes up half her face, and it flashes now to reveal perfect, white teeth. “I could have guessed. Mark has told me so much about you. He loves working here.”

Oh lord, she even has a Southern accent.

David clears his throat and then maneuvers past me with an arm, offering his hand and his signature killer smile. “Hello, I’m David Worthington, vice president of Sales and Marketing at Calloway. You’ll be interviewing for a position as my executive assistant.”

She stiffens in posture. “Yes, of course. Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Come on into my office.” David steps back to give her space to enter, his arm extending in a leading, welcoming gesture. “So, Renée. That’s French, isn’t it?” His voice fades behind the shutting door.

Mark’s nervous gaze is on them.

“So . . . she seems nice.”

“Renée? Oh, yeah. She’s . . .” He clears his throat. “She’s great.”

Huh. “And how long have you had a thing for her?”

“What?” Mark’s head whips around. “I don’t have a thing for her.”

“Really? Because your red face would say otherwise,” I tease.

He sighs and bows his head in defeat. “Five years now, I think? Basically since the moment I met her.”

A burst of laughter sounds from David’s office. Whatever David said must have been funny, because Renée is practically doubled over.

“What have you found on that person I asked you about?”

“Oh, yeah . . .” Mark opens his desk drawer to pull out a sheet of paper. He glances around us, then nods toward my office, and my stomach begins to flutter with anticipation. Whatever he has, it’s something he doesn’t think people should overhear.

“Okay, spill it,” I demand as soon as my door shuts.

“So far, I know that Tripp and Hank Kavanaugh were roommates at Minden College. They also played in a men’s soccer league together for a few years in their twenties.”

“Really? That lazy bastard actually chased after a ball?”

“Maybe it was a beer league?” he offers, then hands me a stack of papers. “Here’s a printout of his calendar for the last six months. Every meeting with Hank is highlighted in yellow.”

I begin flipping through the pages. “A lot of Friday morning golf meetings.”

“Those are the ones Jill has a record of.”

“What did you tell her?” If I didn’t know firsthand Jill’s disdain for Tripp, I would never have suggested that Mark reach out to her. Then again, Mark knows nothing of the kickback suspicions.

“I asked her if Tripp’s been meeting with a guy named Hank and she sent me all this. Then she offered to comb through his emails to see if there are any from KDZ, though she doesn’t remember any coming in.”

As one would expect, if he’s been working this deal for months, as he claims.

“She knows to keep this between us?” The last thing I need is the administrative grapevine catching wind of this.

“She won’t say a word.” He pauses. “What are you hoping to find, anyway?”

“Proof that Tripp’s up to no good.” I know that’s a vague answer, but this level of betrayal is far above Mark’s pay grade. He’s a smart guy, though; he’ll figure it out.

Either way, I don’t have enough to confront Tripp or accuse him of anything yet. “Keep digging.”

Mark nods, and then his gaze wanders back to the office across the hall to watch David and Renée chatter and laugh like old friends. Worry pulls his brow. “Did I just make a huge mistake by introducing them to each other?”

I set a comforting hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. David has too much integrity to sleep with his assistant.” I hope. There’s no doubt David will hire Renée, though; that stupid grin hasn’t slid from his face once. At least I can mark off a mental check box next to one of my dilemmas and move on to tackle Tripp, and my father.

And Kyle.

Christa’s sage advice from last night lingers in my mind. As always, she’s right.

I need to figure out if Kyle even fits in my life anymore. And if he doesn’t . . . I need to let go of my fond memories and move on.

“Thank you,” Renée offers, rushing into the elevator beside me. I used the need to stretch my legs as an offer to walk her down—mainly so I have an excuse to stop by the security desk. “Mark said you made this happen.”

“I just set up the interview. And, trust me, this is more advantageous to Mark and me than it is you.”

“Are you kidding? Yesterday I was pounding pavement and handing my résumé out at restaurants in desperation, and today I have this dream job!” She looks ready to squeal.

Her interview with David lasted nearly an hour—forty minutes longer than any of his other interviews.

“I hope you still feel that way after your first day. David’s expectations of what an assistant should do are a tad high at times.”

She waves my words away with a broad smile. “Oh, don’t worry, Mark gave me the whole rundown on David. I’m ready for it. Bruce, my old boss? He used to make me clean his office fish tank every week.”

I cringe.

“Yeah. And he made me do recon on the birthday party his ex-wife was throwing for his daughter so I could plan another party for her. And I mean everything, from printing the invitations to booking the spa and the food. And it had to be better than his ex’s party.” She shrugs. “Sometimes these guys are clueless.”

I decide that I like Renée. She has an easy, charming way about her. It’s no wonder Mark has been pining over her for years. The question is, does she realize his adoration for her? I push that thought aside for now; it’s too early to start trying to play matchmaker for my assistant. “You’ve come to the right place, then. You won’t have to make children’s birthday invitations for him, but David is definitely clueless at times. I should know—I almost married him.”

“Mark told me.” Her blue eyes widen. “What happened?”

“I smartened up.”

“Well . . . I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you two were an item. He’s so . . . I mean . . .” Her perfectly shaped brows pinch together as she searches for a way out of the unprofessional hole she just stepped into. “Oh God.” Her manicured hand flies to cover her mouth.

I let her squirm for another second before I laugh. “It’s okay. Yes, he’s gorgeous. We all know it. He definitely knows it.” The elevator doors open and we step out.

“Oh, hey, Piper! I was just coming up to see you.” Serge’s gaze flickers to Renée, where it sits a moment, his olive skin taking on a pinkish hue.