Jamie.”
“Took you long enough.”
“Jillian had to hunt me down. Sometimes I get away from all communications, just to clear my head.”
“She said you were playing polo.”
Jillian knew better than to give someone more information about him than they absolutely needed. “Yes, I was. Clears my head, like I said.”
“Hmm. Best I can do is a little deep breathing.”
“I’d be happy to teach you how to play polo,” he said cheerfully, refusing to let her put him down because he had money. He’d learned long ago not to apologize for his wealth.
“No time for that, I’m afraid. I’ll be over after work—around six. I hope you’re free.”
He smiled slightly at her high-handed tone. She was determined to prove to him he couldn’t push her around because of his money and position, and she probably secretly wanted to rankle him, too. If there was one thing Jamie feared, it was that someone would view her as soft.
He suspected she had a soft side. He’d get to it eventually.
“If I’m not free, I’ll rearrange my schedule. For you. We’ll have dinner.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. Our brains will work much more efficiently if we—”
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard it before. We have to refuel our bodies.”
“You don’t disagree, do you?”
“I just… It seems frivolous, enjoying the sort of meals you routinely eat.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d run into this attitude. Some people, particularly those raised in poverty, felt guilty for treating themselves.
“I’ll see if Chef Claude can rustle up some gruel and moldy bread, if you’d rather.”
She actually laughed. “I’ll see you at six.”
“Is there a reason you’re coming, or will you leave me in suspense?”
She almost whispered her next words. “Can’t talk here. Have to go.”
Well, that was sufficiently mysterious.
He handed the phone to a still-scowling Jillian. “What?” he asked.
“I just don’t like that woman. She’s high-handed and snooty.”
“She’s insecure, and trying to establish her authority. Cut her some slack. As you pointed out, my actions might cost her her job, and she deserves some credit for at least keeping the lines of communication open.”
“But she thinks Christopher Gables is a serial killer. That’s nuts…isn’t it?”
“She thinks that only because she can’t stomach the alternative—that she put the wrong man on death row. Eventually she’ll turn around if I handle things just right.”
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Like her? I suppose I do.” More to the point, he wanted her in his bed, but though he shared a lot with Jillian, his sexual appetite wasn’t a subject he ever broached with her.
“You get all sparkly whenever you talk to her, or when her name comes up.”
“Do I?”
“Maybe this is none of my business, Daniel, but if you’re ready to get…romantic with someone, you can do better than her. Aside from the fact her profession is diametrically opposed to yours, she could be dangerous. People get crazy when their livelihoods, their very identities, are threatened.”
Daniel took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. “You’re right, Jillian. It is none of your business.”
Jamie, dangerous? To his control, yes. But she wasn’t going to try to kill him.
He turned his back on Jillian to thank the guys from the polo club, but not before he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes.
Damn it, he didn’t want to hurt her. She was like a kid sister to him. Their fathers had been friends, and she’d been working for his family since her teenage years.
But neither was he willing to take dating advice from her. Although he wasn’t certain what she did on her days off, he didn’t think she dated, either. She was as socially isolated as he was.
Maybe he should encourage Jillian to take a different job within the Logan organization. His CEO was always trying to steal her. If she worked at Logan Oil and lived away from his
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