Page 74 of Crash Course
"You pissed him off."
"I sure did."
They stood in her fancy office with the stuffed oak bookshelves and lawyerly furniture that must have cost a small fortune while Cruz pictured a man hurling a brass paperweight anywhere near his child.
Any man who would do that? Asshole.
He didn’t like Darren Randolph.
At all.
He held his hands wide. "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine. Stunned."
"Rightly so. He had an interesting reaction, no?"
"What do you mean?"
Risking his life, Cruz moved closer, stopping two feet in front of her. "He could have played dumb. Gone for the I-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about defense. Instead, he went apeshit."
She inched closer, lifting her hands, then letting them drop, the whole effort seeming to take the last of her energy.
Family drama sucked.
"I caught him," she said, her voice sharp. "I caught him lying and he must have panicked. He’s so used to me being an ally, he probably didn’t know what to do."
She swung away, wandering to the window and staring out at the building across the street.
"He lied to me," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "About the reports and being EPA compliant. All along, he knew." She peered back at Cruz. "I can only imagine what else he’s lied about."
Yeah. That would be interesting to know. "Maybe he just found out."
To Cruz, it sounded like a hustle. A total snow job that earned him a bored look from feisty Cilla Randolph.
"It’s too late to give him the benefit of the doubt," she said. "I don’t care how long he’s known. The e-mails Rohan found prove it’s been at least a couple of weeks. He lied to me, Cruz. I've repeatedly asked him about the EPA. Long before this, I've been asking. And he's lied to me. All this time. There's just no way around it."
"Now what?"
"I haven’t the slightest idea. All I know is Brittney Tate has cancer and her parents may not know why. Those people are living on a toxic wasteland. I have to do something."
What she needed to do was slow the fuck down. Take a minute and think this through. He’d have to be careful delivering that message. Otherwise, she’d knock his head off.
And nothing about that should have been appealing. However, he did enjoy a sassy woman.
He moved toward her, close enough to draw her a quarter turn and face him. "I think," he said, "you might want to take a second here. You’re churned up."
"Of course, I’m churned up. I just found out my father’s company is poisoning people. I can’t do nothing."
"Fine. But you don’t have to fix everything right now. Just—" He shook his head.
What the hell kind of advice could he offer?
Cilla poked him in the chest. "You’re right. I need to make a plan. Calm down and get my head together. I know one thing for sure. I’m tired of being under my father’s thumb. I’m due in court in Asheville at eleven tomorrow. I’ve had my eye on a small office there. It was once a home that was rezoned. I’m calling the realtor. See if I can look at it first thing tomorrow. If I like it, I’m buying it."
Whoa. Buying an office? "Wow. Big step. Don’t you want to lease first?"
"No. I want my own space where I have control. Wanna come along and help me decide?"
