Forgivable Sins (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 2)

I just knew it.

???

My knee-high boots clicked on the granite tile floors of Lamb & Rowe. Such a stark contrast to the way my bare feet slid across my hardwood floor in my dream.

My memory.

People nodded as I passed, the file folder in my hand filled to the brim with charts and my monthly summaries for my boss. Summaries on all the people who stared at me, nodding in respect tinted with apprehension.

I fought down the urge to smirk when I stepped into the elevator that would take me to the top floor, remembering what the bankers thought when Jasper Rowe first hired me. It hadn't mattered that I had a ring on my finger, because news spread through Chicago like wildfire, and I had foolishly married a partner in my last firm.

But it didn't matter. My work ethic spoke for itself, and while Jasper and I were friendly, there was absolutely nothing romantic between us. I was his rock, professionally.

Stepping out of the elevator into Jasper and I’s sanctuary, I dropped my phone on my desk quickly and made my way to his private office. I knocked on his door, letting myself in with no concern or hesitation even before he could respond. "Don't forget you have your lunch with Carson Davis in an hour."

"Good morning to you too, Samara." There was an unmistakable smile to his voice, and I looked to him with a raised brow. His blond hair was perfectly styled as usual, and his honeyed skin glowed like he was well-rested. So, I couldn’t decide what had made him come to work so late. The man worked constantly.

"It's noon."

"It’s 11:56 actually," he returned, and I dropped the folder on his desk and crossed my arms over my chest. The position made me feel a little more capable of breathing in the black turtleneck I’d put on that morning to accompany my grey wool skirt. He grinned at me, and the lightest grey eyes I’d ever seen twinkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair and didn't even bother to open the file. "Your assessment?"

"Mark Dobson's accounts aren't doing as well as they easily should be with the amount of hours he logged last month. It might have something to do with the rumors he's sleeping with Jim Clarke's wife during that time."

Jasper’s stare blanked as he looked back at me, but I recognized the sudden rigidity to his frame. "That's a very serious accusation based on rumors." Even though his words might have seemed cautionary, the man knew me well enough to know I was far from interested in office gossip.

I nodded to the folder, and he sighed and slid it open. The photos I'd printed from the high-tech security tapes spoke for themselves. "Fuck," he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "That is way more of Dobson’s ass than I ever needed to s

ee. If this gets out...."

"I've approved a $3,000 bonus for Mack in the security office for a signed NDA that he's not to speak of what we found on those tapes or you will own him for the rest of his life. We went through all the extra hours Mark logged, and I took care of the film from inside and around his office during those times. The photos are the only evidence. File them away for insurance, and then my suggestion would be to remind Dobson that if he breathes a word of his involvement with Mrs. Clarke, it will mean he makes the affair public record. He will blacklist himself from the other firms in the city following his termination here if this gets out."

He sighed but nodded. "I’ll need to talk to Kelly first, but she always agrees with you. Pitbulls, both of you."

"I'll call her assistant and get you a meeting on the books for whenever we can fit it in today, and I'll schedule Dobson's termination for first thing tomorrow morning. You also had a cancellation with Christopher French, and Dobson is free until 10 a.m."

He took a sip of his coffee, placing it back in the exact spot on his desk where he kept it. Everything had its place in Jasper’s life. Then he turned to lock the photos in the safe tucked behind the portrait on the back wall of the office. "Is there anyone who can pick up the slack until we can hire a replacement?"

I nodded, continuing when he didn’t see me. "I'll divide the main accounts between Johnson and Romero, two each, and distribute the less demanding accounts between Skorzeny and Evans."

"Perfect. What would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn, most definitely. It's incredible you made it this far in your life without me, honestly. I'm off to lunch. Do you think you can hold down the fort until I get back?" He turned around with a laugh, mimicking the smirk on my face with his own.

"I'm sure I'll manage somehow, Miss Mahoney."

"Peachy." I turned on my heel, striding to my desk to grab my purse and head down to meet Lino for our biweekly lunch. I'd just locked my file drawer with all my confidential information when the elevator doors opened. Even if I hadn't known that Jasper had no appointments until later in the day, I'd have known who strutted out those doors anywhere.

I didn't even have to look at him to feel the air change with his presence and hear the confidence in the gait of his step. His dress shoes tapped against the floor as he made his way to me. Glancing over, my eyes traced those shoes up and over his body encased in grey and up to the devastatingly angular face that made women chase after him everywhere we went. His full lips tilted into a stunning smile when our eyes met, the deep brown of his almond eyes shining as his strong brow softened.

The bastard had worn my favorite grey three-piece suit, fitted to perfection over his lean but muscular form. Since I'd started the process for my divorce all those months ago, it felt like Lino and I were playing with fire, like something shifted in our friendship.

But we both knew it couldn't. I wouldn't let it happen.

I was done with men. Done with the hurt they caused. Not to mention my brother would revolt if he knew I got involved with Lino. He and Yavin partied together, worked together. Lino might have been my best friend, but Yavin filled a role that I never could. There was no chance that my protective best friend would take me into the underbelly of the world where they lived, and that meant I stayed on the sidelines. Never really a part of his world, and never really out of it either. "Will you ever listen when I tell you to wait in the lobby?" I asked, smiling at him with a shake of my head as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.

Normal. Expected.

So why did it feel like his lips lingered, like he breathed me into his very soul?