The Lover’s Promise (No Exceptions #3)(21)
Author: J.C. Reed

I imagined the police breaking in, careless feet stomping on Jett’s expensive suits, cutting through his pillows with no respect for his belongings or hard work. If Jett was proven innocent, would he get compensation for everything they had destroyed?

If he was innocent, Stewart. Not when—if—and that made a big difference!

My eyes fell on the open door to his office, and I remembered the Internet test I had done.

Does he have a secret place or private room, maybe a drawer he doesn’t want you to touch?

The only room that could be considered off-limits was his huge office. It was the only place I had never been in alone, because it was his and I had always respected his privacy. I reckoned that if there was a proof, any evidence at all, that tied Jett to the victims, the police would have found it already. Still, what’s to say that nothing was left for me to discover? Even with all his secrets and his dangerous past, Jett had always insisted that I knew him best, that I knew the real him. What if there was something in there for me that could answer at least some of my other questions? If there was anything, anything at all that could help me understand him, it could make all the difference whether to believe in him, or not. If only he chose to explain, but that wasn’t an option so I slung my handbag over my shoulder and crossed the hall.

Entering Jett’s office, ignoring the torn books and folders cluttering the floor. I figured doing what I was about to do would compromise his privacy, but then with so many things destroyed, he’d never know I had been snooping around.

Now was my one and only opportunity to get answers—answers I needed but he hadn’t been willing to give.

My pulse sped up as I began to open one drawer after another, unsure of what I’d find or even what I was looking for.

Most of the drawers were empty, their contents already scattered across the floor. I skimmed through loose papers, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about his business reports. Nothing that would indicate he might be working for Nate or why he might be interested in deleting the legal firm’s email.

My fingers ran over the smooth surface of his heavy mahogany desk. Back in Italy, we had found a journal hidden under a desk. What were the odds that Jett might have a similar hiding spot?

Sweat accumulated on the nape of my neck as I tried to push it aside. It barely budged from the spot. I lifted, stifling a groan, but only managed to lift it an inch or two.

Shoot.

I never expected the damn thing to be so heavy. Jett had made it look so easy when he simply turned it over. Exhausted, I gave it another push, when my phone rang in my handbag, drawing my attention away from the task at hand. I fished it out and peered at the familiar caller ID.

“Hey, I’m at work.” Sylvie’s chirpy voice echoed down the line. “I’m just calling to make sure you’re okay.”

A mixture of relief and worry flooded through me.

She sounded well and safe.

“I thought we had an arrangement,” I said as I sank into Jett’s comfortable leather chair. “I’ve been worried sick about you, you know. I called you like ten times.”

“You did? I thought I had sent a text.” She laughed nervously. “You know, sometimes you just can’t rely on technology.”

It was a lie. And a big, fat one. I could almost taste her guilt. Something had happened and she was trying to wriggle her way out of telling me.

“Where have you been?” I asked warily.

Sylvie hesitated before letting out a sigh. “I had a date, but you knew that already.” I could almost hear her edginess through the line, which raised my suspicion.

“So…how was it?” I asked.

“How was what?”

“Your night?” I raised my eyebrows even though she couldn’t see it.

“It was okay, I guess. Nothing special.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Can I get you anything after work?”

“Is it just me or are you trying to change the topic?”

“I’m not changing the topic.” She laughed out loud—the sound filled with yet more guilt.

“You are.” I took a deep breath. “Oh, my God, Sylvie. What is it that you’re not telling me?”

“All right. I kinda was with someone.” The words came out low and fast. For someone as sexually liberal as Sylvie, her behavior made no sense.

I frowned. “Kinda?”

“Just with…you know…Kenny. I spent the night with him.”

What the hell!

I stared at the space around me, stunned. Kenny wasn’t just one of Jett’s best friends, he was also just as hard to read.

And probably just as much of a jerk.

“I thought you said something about a blind date?” I said, silently praying that I hadn’t heard her right.

“I did.” Sylvie’s voice betrayed an edge of defensiveness. “But he didn’t turn up. The loser kept me waiting for forty minutes. Can you imagine? Then Kenny called, and one thing led to another. We basically hooked up.” She let out a quiet whistling sound, followed by a giggle. “As it turned out, the only reason why he didn’t call before was that he broke his wrist and was in a lot of pain.”

I shook my head in disbelief. Maybe Sylvie’s heart wasn’t as clever as I thought it was. Maybe deep down she was as fixed on Kenny as I was on Jett.

As Sylvie recounted her night with Kenny, my attention began to wander off. It was only after she mentioned staying at the old warehouse that it dawned on me why she had been trying to avoid the subject.

“He’s there, isn’t he?” I asked quietly, disrupting Sylvie’s excited chatter, and a long pause ensued.

“Who?” Sylvie’s asked, taking her time.

“Cut the crap. You know who I’m talking about. Kenny, obviously.”

“I don’t see him right now.” Her voice betrayed that she was trying to lie her way out of my interrogation. Maybe she didn’t see him that instant, but she sure knew where he was. He was probably using the bathroom or something. “Are you okay, Brooke? You sound a little stressed.”

“Yeah, I am.” I bit my lip, wondering whether to call her up on her attempt to change the subject.

“Brooke.” She let out a drawn-out sigh. “I hope you harbor no plans of running back to him. If a guy cheats on you, you need to slam the door in his face once and for all, not open it again to invite him back in, which means no questions, no looking back, and certainly no longer showing any sort of interest in him. You have to stay hard even when pretending is harder.”