More Than Hate You (More Than Words)

“Sure. Okay,” she says with heavy sarcasm. “Let’s get back to business.”

“Any other admins you can hit up?”

“Brenda Keller has a new one. I think she’s been with the organization for all of three weeks, so I’m not expecting anything from her. Our Marketing VP, Jim Steinhoff, is a real jerk. So is his admin. But now that I’m thinking below the VP level, I’ve got some ideas about directors and managers… I doubt any of them have the whole puzzle, but I’d bet they each have pieces. If I talk to enough of them, maybe I can grasp what’s going on.”

“That’s a great idea.” Truly. Sloan is so dedicated. She could have simply decided that if the organization wanted to fuck itself, she would draw a paycheck as long as possible and not worry until the ride ended. But no, she’s trying to toss Reservoir a life raft. I admire that. “Let me know what you find out.”

“I will. Thanks. I needed help thinking outside the box.”

I doubt that. This strategy would have occurred to her eventually; I just speeded up the process. “You’re welcome. What will you do if you get the information you need and it’s not good? What can you do?” Go to Daddy? Would Bruce Rawson listen?

“I have ideas. Give me a little time, and I’ll figure it out.”

I don’t doubt that. It’s not helpful, but my respect for Sloan goes up again. It’s really beginning to suck that we’ll never be on the same team.

Four days later, I’m feeling more than a little antsy that I haven’t heard a word from Sloan. On the one hand, I’ve been busy trying to find out exactly what Reservoir is planning with regard to overseas expansion—and thus pitching to our prospective client. But everyone I contacted, under the guise of consulting, is businesslike and tight-lipped on the subject.

I could email Sloan and ask. She’s a professional; she would reply promptly with what she knows.

But I’d rather hear her voice.

If I’m being honest, I’m dying to talk to her.

At three o’clock in Maui, I break down and dial her number. Either she’s been quiet because she’s still at the office and up to her eyeballs or something is up. I need to find out which. After all, I have to keep my source of information talking, right?

Nice rationalization.

Thankfully, Sloan answers on the second ring. “Hey, McBride.”

I would object to being called by a last name, except it’s no better if she calls me Jeremy. Admittedly, I’ve fantasized about her crying out in ecstasy while I’m deep inside her, and never once in my head was she screaming any name except mine.

“O’Neill. You’ve been awfully quiet lately.”

“Schmoozing secrets is hard work.”

“Is it?” I play dumb. Honestly, it can be fucking brutal.

“I’m exhausted.”

“Any progress?”

“In a nutshell, no. Your sixth sense must be working, because a few minutes ago, I emailed you some documents I managed to sweet-talk from counterparts in other areas of the organization. I doubt any of it is helpful, but you take a peek.”

Since I’ve spent most of my day in Evan’s office, I haven’t been near my computer. When I open her email and scan the attachment, I can’t disagree. “None of this tells us anything we didn’t already know.”

“Exactly. I’m touching up my makeup now to go out with Carissa, Perez’s assistant, for girls’ night. She was thrilled when I invited her. Poor thing is really lonely. I didn’t know her mother passed recently. She’s been trying to shop for a wedding dress alone, but every time she realizes she’ll never have her mother’s opinion, she breaks down. She has a handful of weeks left to pick a gown before it will be too late. I’m going to try to help her through.”

Sloan can be hard-nosed, but she’s also compassionate. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“Well, I’ll be gently prying, too. We’ll see if she’s willing to say anything about her department’s mystery fund.”

“All you can do is your best.”

Like I’ve been doing to find out when Reservoir plans to sell themselves to Wynam.

“Yep. Oh, um…turns out Meredith Roop’s admin, Ryan, isn’t gay after all. He hung a Henry Cavill calendar in his office because he lost a bet.”

“Did he think you’d asked him to lunch for personal reasons?”