they approached the tall building she’d identified from her bedroom window, a portly man in a red jogging suit lumbered past on the snowy sidewalk. He had on a knit cap instead of a fur-trimmed one, but his white beard was very Santa Claus-like.
She’d decided not to make any more comments, but seeing the jogging Santa look-alike was a safe enough topic. “That guy we just passed looks exactly like Santa Claus.”
A muscle in Cole’s jaw twitched. “I know.”
“Is he some local character?”
“Something like that.”
“It’s kind of cute, don’t you think? A middle-aged guy lives in Gingerbread and decides to take on the persona of Santa Claus. It’s like the role players in old Western towns like Tombstone.”
“Guess so.”
“You don’t seem to appreciate the charm of it, my friend.”
Cole took a deep breath and looked over at her. “I’d forgotten that your brain is always analyzing, always evaluating, sifting and cataloging.”
“Of course. So’s yours.”
He flicked on a turn signal and pulled up to a wrought iron gate with scrollwork incorporating an elaborate E. “I’m going to ask you to focus all that brainpower on the Evergreen database. Pretend you have blinders on and ignore everything else.”
“Sounds like censorship, Cole.”
He touched a button on the dash and the gates swung open. “That’s because it is.”
“For the love of God, what’s going on in this building?”
Pulling into a parking space labeled with his name, he shut off the engine and turned to her. “I promise you that what goes on in this building is benign. There are no criminals here, no terrorists and no drug dealers. Nothing bad happens here, Taryn. Can you accept that and just do your job?”
“If it’s nothing bad, why can’t you tell me?”
“I can’t tell you because...” He looked into her eyes and his throat moved. When he spoke, his voice was husky with emotion. “I can’t tell you, not ever, and I really wish I could, because...”
“Because why?”
“Because I love you.”
She gasped, shocked that he’d said it, but thrilled, too. “But I love you, too! And people who love each other share things they wouldn’t tell anyone else.”
“Not in this case.” His gaze searched hers. “I need you to analyze the database. You’re the person for the job—maybe the only person who can do what I need done. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes, I will.” He hadn’t asked her to promise she’d wear those blinders. Maybe he secretly wanted her to find out what was going on.
Whether he wanted her to find out or not, she intended to. This was ridiculous. They belonged together, and she wouldn’t let him throw their future away, at least not until she knew why he was so intent on doing it.
The lobby was decorated for Christmas, which she would have expected. A blue spruce that had to be thirty feet tall stood in the center of the two-story vaulted ceiling. Evergreen ornaments hung from every branch. Many of them gave off that mysterious glow she’d noticed in hers.
Display cases filled with ornaments lined the walls, and each ornament was labeled with the year in which it was manufactured. Taryn didn’t have much time to look, but she’d swear at least one of them dated back to the 1600s. “Cole, some of those ornaments are really old.”
“The company’s been around a long time.”
“Did it originate in Europe?”
“Yes, it did, in fact. Let’s get you signed in.” He guided her toward an ornate desk that looked as if it might have been imported from Versailles. Behind it sat a sweet-faced woman who could have been anywhere from fifty to seventy. She wore a red velvet dress, and the nameplate on her desk identified her as Jolie S. Garland.
Taryn wanted to ask her, with a wink, if that was her real name. But something about the woman’s calm gaze kept her from doing that. Taryn suspected it was her real name, and she’d be insulted if anyone suggested otherwise. Whether she’d found her perfect job or the job had found her, she’d discovered the right spot for a person with that particular name.
Smiling, she handed Taryn a gold pen. “Sign here, Miss Harper, and I’ll give you an access card.”
Jolie reached into a drawer and came up with a sparkling gold card with Taryn’s name embossed on the front and a magnetic strip on the back. “This will allow you to board the elevator, which will take you to the IT center on the twelfth floor. If you need anything, please come back to the lobby and I’ll assist you.”
“Thank you, Jolie.” Taryn returned the woman’s genial smile, but she had the distinct impression she’d been given a ticket to the IT floor and nothing else. Once she and Cole were inside the shiny gold elevator, she confirmed it with him.
“That’s all you were hired to do.” He unbuttoned his coat and loosened his scarf, but he stood on the opposite side of the elevator.
She found that significant—depressingly so. “I thought you might give me a tour of the building while I’m here.” She hadn’t really thought that, but it was worth a shot.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Would you settle for a tour of the IT department? It’s my favorite floor.”
“I’m sure it is. But your parking space said you were the CEO. Who’s in charge of IT?”
“I am, for now. I haven’t found anybody I’d turn it over to, so I’m doing double-duty.”
“That can’t be easy. This looks like a huge operation. How can you handle the IT department when you’re supposed to be the head honcho of Evergreen?”
“Obviously I’m not doing a very good job of it. You hacked in.”
“You shouldn’t let that bother you. As I said before, I know your MO. The average hacker wouldn’t have nearly such an easy time of it.”
“Nevertheless, you exposed my vulnerabilities. I want those protected.”
That, too, was a telling statement. She was the woman who knew too much. He’d hired her to barricade him against future invasions, both business-related and emotional, and then leave.
The elevator came to a smooth stop on the twelfth floor. It hadn’t stopped once since they’d left the lobby. Other people had to be working in this large building, and yet she’d never know it. Jolie S. Garland was the only employee she’d met. That was spooky.
“I gave the rest of the IT staff the day off to go Christmas shopping,” he said. “I wanted you to be able to work undisturbed.”
That meant he didn’t want her talking to anyone. He’d done his best to isolate her from the rest of the workers at
