“Ask me.”
“I don’t wanna know what you want.”
I try to sidestep the opposite way, but Jude quickly grabs my hand. Immediately, I’m trying to pry myself out of his hold. He seems like a predator suddenly, a dangerous one, and my heart is racing.
“A lotta things I want from you, actually. But first, how ‘bout you tell me your name?”
I roll my eyes. Is this his way of saying he wants to start fresh?
“I’m Ally, you’re Jude. We’ve met. But there’s no going backwards if you’re gonna act like this. It’s just friends or it’s enemies. You pick.”
“How about enemies with benefits?” he tries, smiling, oozing with sexuality.
I gulp. Enemies with benefits sounds sexy as fuck.
He chuckles.
No. Not sexy. Bad. Very bad. I slap my own hand in admonishment.
“Actually, no. I’m not trying to go backwards.” He shakes his head. “I wanna know your name. Your real name.”
My heart stops. My mouth is a desert. But somehow I’m still standing.
“What is it, Vixen? Because it’s sure as fuck not Allison Kingston.”
“Fuck you,” I whisper.
Damn it. He is digging into me.
Damn him twice, because he’s making me want to barf up the delicious cinnamon pizza dough knot I just ate.
“Talk to me,” he demands, tugging my hand to pull me back over toward the breakfast bar. As soon as he sits down on the stool, I back up.
He’s got his eyes on me as I back up, shaking my head, feeling heat rise in my face and anger in my blood.
“I can’t believe you,” I snarl. “You’re such a dick.”
“I guess I am. Quentin Carmichael wants every employee who’s been hired in the past two years investigated. He hired me. So yeah, a dick. A professional one.”
“Bullshit. You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“Ask him.”
I do my best to scorch him with a glare.
Instead of bursting into flames, Jude continues talking. “There’s no Allison Kingston that matches your date of birth from Baltimore or anywhere else in the state of Maryland. Yet Monday night, that’s where you said you were born.”
“This is ridiculous. I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“Start talking, baby. Or I might have to take this to your CEO.”
“I’m not saying I changed my name but if I did, there are a lot of plausible reasons for that.”
“How ‘bout you tell me what reason you had?”
“Maybe I’m adopted. Or maybe when my mother remarried, I took her new husband’s name.”
He smiles.
I continue. “Maybe I’m a divorcee and Kingston is my married name. There are a lot of reasons why a person changes their name and if I did, none of them are any of your business.”
“It actually is my business. My precise business. Got the details ironed out this morning and I’m getting paid to do it. Light background checks on all newer employees, deeper ones at my judgement call if I see anything that sticks out.”
“Oh, how convenient. You just started investigating this morning?” I ask.
“Late last night,” he amends.
“And you just couldn’t wait, right? You just couldn’t handle that I don’t want you and so you started digging for a way to pay me back for the rejection? How lame are you?”
“This is my job, Vixen.”
“Oh. Right. And the first day you already get to the letter M?”
His eyebrows rise and I immediately realize my blunder.
Fuck.
My knees are wobbly, but I’m backing up, feeling the overwhelming urge to run. Run. Puke. Cry.
“You mean the letter K, don’t you?” He smirks.
Fuck me sideways!
“Or Z. Maybe Q or B. Maybe I’m trying to throw you off the trail.”
I take a deep breath and try to make myself choose my words more carefully. “Why wouldn’t you start at the letter A?” I ask, feeling my face blaze.
“Maybe I started with first names. Ally.” He puts air quotes around Ally.
“Then you started with Aaron in the mailroom, right? He’s only been around for about a month and a half.”
He pats the stool beside him. “Come talk to me.”
I shake my head.
“I get the impression you’re hiding stuff to protect yourself, not to fuck the Carmichaels over. So sit down, have some food and a couple drinks, and fill me in. Maybe I can help.”
I scoff. “Help with what? There’s nothing to help with.”
“Baby.”
I will not let that word, nor the way he said it penetrate. Though it does.
“Just call and tell them,” I say shakily. “Whatever; I don’t care. I’m doing nothing wrong. People change their names all the time. Though, how do you know I’m not in witness protection or something? For someone in the security business, this seems very careless of you not to mention unprofessional, Mr. Professional Dick.”
I spin to start heading toward my room, but he grabs my hand again.
“Ally.”
I pull back. “Hands off. I don’t know why you think you can put your fucking hands on me! If you’re gonna call them, just call them and tell them.”