Wanting Her Read online

  Wanting Her

  Raquel De Leon

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  © 2019 Raquel De Leon. All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Vivian’s office was silent as she stared down at the latest in a stack of résumés. With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair. Through her windows she could see the lively city bathed in warm early sunshine. She allowed herself a moment to observe the mindless bustle of people scurrying to and fro.

  With another sigh, she turned back to her desk. She’d been the one to suggest hiring another investigator, so it was her duty to narrow the list down to the most viable candidates. Jack had cheerfully volunteered to do the first rounds of interviews with a few early contenders.

  She bit her lip to hide a smile. Jack was usually quick to volunteer for the things he was good at—especially for those rare things that Vivian herself wasn’t.

  Though Vivian could be personable when necessary, she usually didn’t see the point in excessive niceties. Unlike Jack, charm didn’t come naturally to her. Her forte was the business side of things. Their combined talents made for a lucrative partnership.

  In business, she reminded herself.

  She focused on the résumé for a third time, intent on finally processing the information rather than looking past it. Only three lines in, her computer made a soft chiming sound.

  An email had arrived. She frowned in concentration as she forced herself to read the fourth line.

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see the inviting blues and whites of her mail application.

  Realizing that she couldn’t recall the name of the applicant, she dropped the stack of papers in defeat. A quick look wouldn’t hurt. What if it was urgent?

  The bolded line of the unread email proved otherwise. TJB Findings Inconclusive. She pursed her lips and kept the mouse cursor hovering over the mail. It wasn’t urgent. The results had been the same for as long as she could remember. Re-opening the line of inquiry had just been a waste of resources.

  Even knowing all that, she’d done it anyway. How could she still feel disappointed?

  She shouldn’t tell her parents. There was no need for them to feel the same way. Guilt settled thickly in her gut next to the disappointment. If she didn’t tell them, they might think she hadn’t bothered this year—that she’d forgotten, or perhaps deemed it unnecessary.

  Later, she’d give them a call. She moved the unread email to a personal folder. It was still early in the day, and she still had more work to do than time to do it in.

  She spared a few seconds to remind herself of everything she’d achieved. Her office, with its high ceiling, pristine white walls, and immaculate modern furniture, hadn’t been obtained by daydreaming.

  That in mind, she returned to the mound of waiting résumés with new resolve.

  ***

  The lobby, with its floor-to-ceiling windows, was almost uncomfortably warm. April unconsciously bounced her leg as she studied the cool greys and blues of the minimalist furniture. She adjusted the collar of her blouse and stared down at the sleek, shiny business card in her other hand.

  She’d already been waiting over an hour, and there were still several other applicants occupying other chairs. They were mostly men, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary in her line of work.

  April had only seen two other women come to interview, and one had already left. She studied the remaining woman from under her lashes. Unlike April, the redheaded woman seemed fully confident in her white button-up blouse and perfectly-creased slacks.

  Perspiration gathered between April’s shoulder blades. She’d gotten all the tags off her shirt, hadn’t she? Despite her friend Rachel’s insistence otherwise, she wondered if she’d regret splurging at the off-price department store. It had been some time since she’d gotten herself any new clothes, and she couldn’t recall ever picking out anything as fancy as the satiny green blouse.

  Her eyes traced the filigreed lettering on the business card.

  MBI

  Thorough. Discreet.

  It had seemed necessary for the interview.

  April flipped the card over. The queasiness in her stomach eased at the sight of the flowing, messy handwriting. She wasn’t out of place here. She’d been invited.

  Jack Mercer had seen her in action. His name was on the card, so that had to mean something.

  At the time, she hadn’t been sure what to think of the job offer. She’d been chasing down a lead for a bail bondsman on a guy who’d skipped out on his bail. ‘Grungy’ was a complimentary word to describe the bar she’d ended up in.

  Jack, with his dimpled smile and lingering gaze, had just seemed like another guy looking to hook up. His tailored suit and expensive shoes had been the only thing that had given her pause.

  With a muffled snort, she twirled the card between her fingers. Not that Jack ever had a chance in hell with her, but Josie, her current boss, had been threatening to retire for a year. It wouldn’t hurt to apply.

  “April Hawkins?” a soft voice called out.

  April immediately stood, recognizing the voice as belonging to the woman from the front desk. She’d smiled at April after checking her in, a real one that had almost made April’s lips upturn in reflex. April cleared her throat and subtly wiped her hands on her black slacks.

  She should have asked for the woman’s name. The executive assistant, in a fitted oxford shirt and long brown skirt, was waiting with the same patient smile.

  “This way, please,” the woman said with a hand outstretched back the way she’d come.

  April nodded and followed, focusing on the woman’s neat bun of honey-brown hair rather than agonizing over the impending interview.

  They turned a corner, revealing a long hallway of opaque glass and black-framed doors with shiny metal handles. Offices, she knew, by the vague shapes of furniture she could see. They proceeded all the way down to the end, to the only two offices with real walls. The doors were the same, though these had silvery names expertly painted on at roughly eye-level.

  J. Mercer, the door to the right said. Her eyes flicked to the left door out of habit. V. Barrera.

  Her stomach fluttered. If Jack remembered who she was, then maybe she had a shot.

  “Mr. Mercer is ready to see you now,” the administrative assistant said as they approached the right door.

  “Great.” April swallowed and forced a smile. “Thanks.”

  She raised her arm and knocked.

  “Come in,” came the muffled reply.

  Reflexively, she turned back to the other woman. “Wish me luck.”

  The woman smiled and said, “Good luck” as April opened the door. April decided to learn her name on the way out, regardless of the outcome of the interview.

  The door closed behind her. She strained to hear the muted click of retreating heels on the thick carpet.

  “Ah, Miss Hawkins.” Unlike their initial meeting, Jack Mercer’s dark green eyes were clear and respectfully staying on her face. A tautness in her chest eased.

&n
bsp; “Mr. Mercer,” she returned with a polite nod.

  ***

  The sun had risen to above the building by the time Vivian found herself taking a break. She’d churned through the stack of résumés in time to field a call from one of the firm’s more important clients. Thankfully, the call had just been a check-in.

  She took a sip of her coffee and blinked. It was hot and fresh. She made a mental note to ensure Irene’s quarterly bonus was on par with her extreme efficiency. Vivian hadn’t even heard Irene come in.

  Her lips twitched when she checked her outbox and saw it clear. A smaller, but still manageable, pile of documents had found their way to her inbox.

  With a sigh, she reached for them. A quick look before lunch wouldn’t hurt.

  Five minutes and several skimmed documents later, Vivian was frowning.

  She’d asked for a list of names of Jack’s interviewees, curious about which candidates he’d approved of from the résumés she’d forwarded his way. His selections had been admirable, except for one.

  “April Hawkins?” she murmured to herself. She’d meticulously gone over the applicants that met the firm’s criteria but couldn’t remember one with that name.

  Perhaps it had been a last-minute referral by one of their investigators. Vivian slid a hand through her hair, frowning when a dark strand came loose. She deposited the offending strand to the waste bin below her desk, glad she’d taken the time to have her hair trimmed back to just below her chin the previous day.

  Outside of her office, a low burr of voices caught her attention. Though her walls were decently insulated, she recognized Jack’s deep voice and pushed up from her chair. She could ask him about the interview while they ate.

  Vivian opened the door and exited her office, unsurprised to find Jack still chatting away with—her frown returned. She was unfamiliar with the woman.

  Uneasiness flared to life in her stomach when she observed the way Jack smiled at the woman. Jack was tall, fit, and handsome… and had a type.

  Blonde and leggy, that hadn’t changed since college. The woman with him, even in sedate slacks and an emerald blouse a size too big, was both of those things and more. Nearly as tall as Jack, she had full lips and bright blue eyes, and stood with a confidence Vivian knew Jack would find appealing. Without the two-inch heels, she’d still tower over Vivian.

  Briefly, old insecurities made Vivian halt. She’d never be slender or tall and hadn’t been lucky enough to be born with her mother’s thick, curly hair. She caught herself before her mind could spiral, straightening her spine and striding forward to bring herself into Jack’s periphery.

  “Viv,” he greeted with a smile almost immediately.

  A last bit of tension in her shoulders eased. “Jack, sorry to interrupt.”

  He chuckled and shrugged. “Not at all, April and I were just finishing things up.”

  At that, Vivian tilted her head and looked at the blonde. A tingle began along her spine and prickled up her neck when April met her gaze. The tension returned to her shoulders as she extended her hand. “April, is it? I’m Vivian.”

  “Nice to meet you,” April replied as she accepted the brief handshake.

  Unfortunately, her voice wasn’t high or annoying, but soft and smooth. If Vivian hadn’t been fighting a horrible rising sense of suspicion, she might have even deemed it pleasant.

  “Well, that’s one thing out of the way,” Jack said with his hands in his pockets. He was still smiling.

  Dread hit Vivian in full force. She kept her expression neutral, only raising an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  Jack glanced back at April. “That’s right. April just finished signing her preliminary contract.”

  To Vivian’s dismay, he refused to look her in the eye. Her dread began to shift into anger. Referral or not, they had rules. Jack wasn’t supposed to hire anyone until they’d discussed things. Together.

  She tamped down on her fury. Perhaps April had an impressive record, and he’d wanted to snap her up before anyone else could. “Well, don’t let me interrupt. I was just on my way out to lunch.” Despite her attempts to control her temper, her voice was taut. She idly wondered if Jack would bother meeting her for lunch today, or if he’d be busy. With a small nod and not much else, Vivian brusquely strode out to the lobby.

  “Irene,” she said as soon as she turned the corner, “can you print me off a copy of April Hawkins’ résumé?”

  Irene shot her a hesitant look, looking uneasy as she reached for a set of stapled papers and handed them over. “Already done, Miss Barrera.”

  As always, her uncanny resourcefulness threatened to make Vivian smile. “Thank you, Irene.” The urge to smile faded as Vivian made it to the elevator and began reading the résumé.

  “Cabrón,” she hissed when she got to the section marked ‘criminal history’.

  ***

  April groaned as she entered the apartment, tiredly kicking off her low-heeled pumps as soon as she’d locked and bolted the door.

  She relaxed back against the cool wood for a few moments, trying to mentally gather herself. The wait, followed by paperwork, had taken hours. At least she had a shiny new laminated security badge and a start date for work to show for it.

  Saying goodbye to Scott Investigations was bittersweet. The income it had brought in had never been consistent, some months leaving her wallet comfortably full, and others having her counting every cent before spending. Working for Josie Scott, however, had been one of the best decisions of April’s life. Josie had taught her a lot about the business and had given her a chance when so many other people hadn’t.

  Even with the new (impressive) pay and (surprising) benefits offered by MBI, April probably wouldn’t have quit working for Josie. But Josie had always had a knack for sussing out the truth, and when she’d spotted the business card for MBI on April’s desk, she’d all but pushed April out the door.

  “If it was just you, kid, I’d keep you until this place fell down around us. But you’re not alone, you’ve got Makayla to think about. I know that firm. They’re a little hoity toity, but that place is rare in our line of work. It’s job security and good pay. Don’t be an idiot.”

  April could picture Josie perfectly. The silver hair, spectacles, and floral-print dresses were incongruous with Josie’s gruff demeanor and knack for investigative work. She sighed.

  “Auntie, you home?”

  Pushing forward from the door, April felt a little energy return at the sound of her niece’s voice. “Sure am, ‘Kayla. Pull out the takeout menus ‘cause I got the job.” Having passed Rachel, Makayla’s temporary babysitter on the way in, April didn’t bother asking if she was still around. Rachel had apologized for the quick departure, but she’d needed to get to her second job.

  Makayla came skidding out into view on socked feet, a bright smile on her face. “Really? That’s awesome!”

  “Really. Hey, be careful, will you? The last thing I want is for you to bash your head open or something.” April smiled to soften the warning.

  Makayla’s small body was nearly vibrating with energy. “I’m just excited! You kept saying we shouldn’t get our hopes up because it was a super nice place, but you got it!”

  April couldn’t contain a grin. “Yeah, yeah. Now, come on. Grab the takeout menus. I’m way too wiped to cook. I promise we’ll go out this weekend and have a real celebration.” She tugged off her wool coat and tossed it toward the back edge of the couch. It caught just well enough on the back not to fall.

  The linoleum floor was cold to her nylon-covered feet, but she enjoyed the sensation as she stepped further into the living room.

  Makayla was off with an excited yelp, returning in seconds with an armful of menus. The pile was dumped onto the worn coffee table without preamble.

  As she sat on the couch and closed her eyes, April smiled to herself. She knew what Makayla would pick.

  “Pizza Mia!” Makayla declared scant seconds later.

  Without opening her e
yes, April passed her phone over. The new app for the pizza place had been a remarkable find. “Whatever you want, kid.” She knew Makayla, far too mature for her tender eight years, could be trusted to order.

  She lazily opened her eyes as Makayla began making selections on the phone. Makayla’s face was a study of concentration. April smiled, and then squinted. Makayla’s dark, curly hair that had been pulled back into a poofy bun was beginning to look frizzy. “Looks like we need to oil your hair some, squirt.”

  Realizing she was thirsty, she smacked her lips together and forced herself up. They still had apple juice.

  “Yeah, I think so. It was a little itchy today. Mrs. Hill said she’d do it tomorrow, if you wanted.”

  April paused at the refrigerator. “You saw her today?”

  “Yeah, I asked Rachel if we could check on her when we heard her come home. She gave us pie.”

  Curious, April opened the fridge. Sure enough, a plate with two generous slices of lemon meringue had appeared on the top shelf. April smiled and grabbed the apple juice. “We’ll have to visit her for tea when I’m off.”

  “She’ll like that.”

  April bobbed her head and silently poured out two glasses of juice. “So, what, at least half an hour on the pizza?”

  “Yeah,” Makayla said as she accepted one of the juices.

  “So, tell me how school was today.” April lightly slung an arm around Makayla’s shoulders as they walked back to the living room.

  “Only if you tell me about your new job.”

  April was quiet for a moment, remembering Jack’s enthusiasm and his partner’s… lack of it. She bit her lip. It was for the best that Vivian Barrera hadn’t taken an instant liking to her. Vivian—with her dark hair, thickly-lashed almond-shaped eyes, and luscious curves—was exactly April’s type. “You first, squirt.”

  ***

  The doorbell echoed through her loft, and Vivian scowled as she tugged her robe belt into a firm knot. She was going to complain to the building’s doorman for letting in whoever was incessantly ringing her bell. She’d already been struggling to fall asleep, having opted not to call her parents earlier in the day. There was nothing wrong with the decision. Apparently, her subconscious mind hadn’t agreed. The April Hawkins situation didn’t help.