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His personal tax records.

She had no access to either.

“Lunch would be fine,” Flint said, suggesting a place that she recognized. Close to the office but more upscale than they needed. A third-floor place down by the pier, overlooking the ocean.

She needed him fully cooperative—willing to give her the goods on himself when she didn’t even know where to look—so she graciously accepted. Agreed to meet him in the lobby to walk the short distance between her father’s building and the restaurant.

Although it was the first of November, San Diego was San Diego, no matter what season it was. She wouldn’t be cold in her navy formfitting dress pants and short navy jacket. And the wedged shoes... Having worn five-inch heels more times than she could count, she figured she could walk in pretty much anything.

She just hoped she wasn’t walking into something that would turn out to be more than she could handle.

Her father was counting on her.

Chapter Eight

She never should have agreed to walk over to the restaurant with him. While the day was pleasant, and being out in the sun with the blue skies overhead was even better—especially considering the windowless room where she’d spent her morning—Tamara still regretted her choice. The people milling around them, tourists lollygagging and business people bustling, left her and Flint Collins in a world of their own.

At least that was how it felt to her.

While people could probably hear what they said, with everyone moving at a different pace, no one could follow their conversation.

Making their togetherness seem too personal. Too intimate.

To begin with, they just talked about being hungry. About the restaurant. They’d both been there many times. She liked their grilled chicken salad. He was planning on the grilled chicken and jalapeño ciabatta.

It didn’t surprise her that he was a daring eater. Preferred his food hot.

The crowds forced them closer together than she would’ve liked. At one point he put a hand at her back to lead her ahead of him as they crossed the street.

He didn’t touch her, exactly, but she could feel the heat of his presence.

Looking down, she could see the tips of his shining black shoes and the hem of the dark gray business pants he was wearing with a white shirt and red power tie.

New baby or not, he’d been perfectly and professionally put together when he’d greeted her in the lobby earlier. She hadn’t asked about Diamond Rose. If she wanted to get closer to him for the sake of her father’s investigation, she probably should ask—

“You mentioned that you travel all over the country to the companies you work for, like Owens Investments, yet you seem so familiar with the area. Are you staying nearby?”

“I was born and raised in San Diego.” She didn’t see any harm in telling him that. “I work locally as much as I can, but I need to be free to go where the jobs take me.”

At least that was the plan—to work locally as often as possible. She’d only started to send out her portfolio to companies in the area. She’d always gone where she’d been sent, but she wasn’t with a big firm anymore. She was on her own and would be responsible for finding her own work.

As soon as she finished the job she was on.

She’d spoken with her father again, just before leaving for lunch. She’d been through every line item she had on Flint Collins, she’d told him, and had found absolutely nothing that raised a single question mark. Other than that the man pushed the boundaries on risk-taking.

A few of his investments had seemed questionable because of the amounts and the commodities those amounts were spent on—until she’d followed them through to the sale that had grossed impressive amounts.

He’d had a few losses, too, but they were minimal in comparison.

Her father still suspected Collins was behind the thefts. However, he agreed that she should spend equal time on others in the company. She’d already started to do that.

And in the meantime, people who spent time with someone noticed things.

So maybe that was her “in” with Flint. Maybe she had to spend time with him, eyes wide open, and look for whatever could help her father.

While she simultaneously scoured the files of everyone else in the company.

If she failed, her father was going to have to go to the police. Investors would learn that Owens Investments had trouble in the ranks and the client list would dwindle.


Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn The Daycare Chronicles Romance