Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Can’t think of anything?” Jonathan prodded.
“No, I know what it is,” I said on a sigh, flicking my gaze to his. “His behaviour changed as soon as you turned up.”
“I see.” A faint smirk shaped his lips before he shrugged. “It’s understandable in a way.”
“It’s downright silly is what it is,” I griped. “I mean, obviously someone like you would never be …” I caught myself, a flush of self-consciousness heating my cheeks as I stopped myself from finishing, be interested in someone like me. “And okay, don’t be mad, but everyone at work was being way too curious about you, so I lied and said the reason you’d visited was because we were working on dividing our parents’ estate, which yes, is a lie. But I didn’t want to get into the fact that I’d been sleeping in my car, and it seemed the easiest excuse. Then Cathal started talking about how he was concerned for me, and that a man like you who’s likely better versed in financial and legal matters might swindle me out of an inheritance. I told him whatever happens to me is none of his concern, but he just wouldn’t let it drop, said he’s known people who’ve lost money after a loved one passed away—”
“It sounds like he’s quite fixated on this supposed wealth you’re about to receive,” Jonathan commented thoughtfully.
I shook my head in exasperation. “I know, right? People really get so weird when it comes to money.”
“Could it be him who stole from your petty cash box?”
I blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Cathal? No way. He’s a rule follower to a T. He wouldn’t even break the speed limit by a single kilometre. It’s not him. Besides, he owns his own house, no mortgage. I mean, his salary isn’t particularly lavish, but—”
“But you can’t rule him out.”
“I just can’t see it being Cathal. More than likely, it was some sly teenaged grandkid of one of the residents. Besides, we’ve set up a hidden camera in my office, so if the culprit strikes again, they’ll be caught this time.”
“That’s good to hear,” Jonathan said just as we pulled up outside his office building. “Well, this is me.”
He moved to leave, his hand on the door handle before he paused, turning to me a moment. His eyes glanced over my nose and cheeks, his focus keen. I sensed he was going to say something important, I had no idea what, but then he dragged his gaze away, only offering a gruff, “I’ll see you later,” before he went.
“See you later, Jonathan.”
The car felt too empty with him gone, and I couldn’t help wondering what he’d wanted to say. A tinted screen closed off the driver’s area, so I couldn’t even talk to Ben to distract myself from the strangely intense way Jonathan had regarded me. Twenty minutes later, Ben dropped me off at Pinebrook, and I gave him a smile and a very grateful, “Thank you!” before heading inside. I was certainly glad not to have had to take the train on such a cold, drizzly morning. Thankfully, it was still early, so no one was there to see me being dropped off in Jonathan’s car.
I wasn’t so lucky later that evening when Ben turned up, and I tried hurrying to the car but was unfortunately spotted by several members of staff, as well as a whole slew of residents. Wonderful. I’d have a bunch more questions fired my way in the morning for sure.
Settling into the comfort of the luxury car, I found myself sliding up to the window next to Ben and pressing the button to lower it.
“Hey, so I feel weird sitting back here and not talking to you,” I began, and he gave a low chuckle.
“That’s fine. Mr Oaks usually works on the drive, so I keep the screen up to give him privacy.”
“Well, I don’t need any privacy. How was your day?”
Ben flashed me a smile through the overhead mirror, and okay, Jonathan’s driver was actually very nice to look at. “Can’t complain. You?”
“It was pretty decent,” I replied.
We chatted all the way to Jonathan’s building, even sharing a few jokes along the way. When Jonathan himself arrived and climbed into the car, he noted my position close to Ben and frowned. I shifted back a little, a small flutter in my belly when the movement caused Jonathan’s gaze to lower to my legs before he quickly glanced away.
“Good evening, Miss Rose,” he said, and I wondered at the formality.
“Mr Oaks,” I replied while Ben pulled away from the building and merged with traffic. The journey was silent until sirens howled in the distance, and Ben moved us out of the way as a Garda car sped past, rushing to some accident or crime scene.
“I wonder what happened,” I muttered absent-mindedly.