to lie. It was gross.”
“I don’t know that Sophie needs extra babysitting money. She’s doing pretty well with her music.”
Pretty good meant that any college in the country she wanted to go to was already paid for. He knew her plans included Stanford, Stanford and Stanford. In other words, the school farthest from him.
“I wouldn’t charge them. I would do it because I like Kelly. You’re so coarse, Mark.”
Another mistake. He thought he was making an offhand joke. She thought he was an asshole. Typical.
“Can I hold her?” Mark asked. At least while holding the baby he could pretend that a child actually liked him.
Reluctantly, Sophie handed Kelly over and he cradled the nearly five-month-old in the crook of his elbow. She’d been almost a month early and to Mark she still looked impossibly small, but the doctors had all declared her perfectly healthy. Kelly seemed to be deciding whether to cry or coo so Mark helped that decision along by bouncing her gently. The cooing continued and he watched as she broke out into a large, wide smile.
So little. So precious. Mark remembered holding Sophie when she was even younger. He remembered it, because it was the last time he saw her before he left for Langley. The next time he’d seen her she’d been five years old.
Closing his eyes, he brought the baby close and smelled how fresh and lovely she was. How had he been able to leave Sophie as a baby? When he felt as possessive as a Neanderthal with her now. Now when she hated him rather than adored him as she had when she’d rested in his arms.
“Please,” Sophie said. “Don’t even pretend you’re all about Kelly. We know what you think of babies, Mark.”
Mark didn’t respond to his daughter’s jab. He was starting to become immune to them. Anna walked over with a sympathetic smile and took her daughter from him. “Time and patience,” she whispered.
He smiled back. “Look, we should be going. My daughter probably has some more nasty things to say to me and I would rather we not subject the baby to it. It could corrupt her subconsciously. Ben, you’ll continue thinking about our problem.”
“I’m on it. But it might not hurt to have extra help. You should show it to JoJo.”
“Who?”
“JoJo. The detective I sent to you. You said you were going to interview her. I’m assuming you hired her, so have her look into the matter. According to Tom, she’s one of the best he’s ever worked with.”
Mark frowned. “I didn’t hire her.”
“Why not?”
His doubt surfaced as he once more tried to put his finger on his problem with her. “She wasn’t what I was looking for. I was hoping for someone more conservative. I’m trying to create a serious agency with serious agents.”
“Yes. I know. She has serious talent. It’s why I let you have first crack at her.”
Mark struggled with how to identify his specific issue with her. “She’s got tattoos.”
“You have a tattoo.”
“You do?” Sophie stood with her arms folded.
Mark scowled at Ben. “It’s since been removed.”
“You should reconsider. Because if you’re not hiring her, then I will. She’s too good to let go. I figured I was repaying you for stealing Anna away.”
“You didn’t steal me away,” Anna countered. “I chose not to go back to work because of Kelly. You two can be so full of it.”
Ben waited until Anna was distracted with the baby to give Mark a small nod that said he still thought he was right about JoJo.
“I don’t know if she’s still in the area. She said she was sticking around for a few days before heading to D.C. for another interview, but who knows.”
“Then you better act fast. The next person who sees her résumé won’t be so foolish as to let her go because of a couple of tattoos.”
“They’re on her neck.” Mark winced as he tried to imagine why a young woman might do that to herself. It had to hurt like hell.
“Totally cool,” Sophie muttered.
“Don’t even think about,” Mark warned. “Okay. Let’s make a stop on the way home.”
* * *
JOJO LOOKED AT the movie list and considered what would kill time better—an engrossing thriller or some eye candy in the form of Ryan Gosling. In truth, neither was very appealing. Pounding her hand on the mattress, she considered what her next move would be.
She’d been so damn sure she would get the job with Sharpe. In her mind she had already adopted Philadelphia as her new home. She’d had a Geno’s cheesesteak. What was that if not commitment?
Now she really would have to follow up on opportunities in other cities. She had exaggerated slightly when she told Sharpe he was one interview in a long line of them.
Okay, so it was a total lie. She hadn’t contacted any of the other agencies she had researched because she didn’t think she had to. Tom knew Ben Tyler and Ben Tyler was a man with significant influence. Since he had recommended JoJo to Mark, it should have been a lock.
Apparently not for Mark. Because he’d seen the tattoos.
JoJo got up from the bed and walked to the mirror. She’d removed the ponytail hair extension and her jet-black hair was again short and spiky. She had dyed it black a long time ago, and it brought out her blue eyes better than her natural blond. She kept it short to accent her smallish face and because it was easier to care for and to cover with a wig when she was in disguise.
Did she look a little too badass? Yes. There were times when that was an asset. Sometimes having an edge helped when she was interrogating a criminal or interviewing a witness.
But other times badass tattoos cost you a job. Two, if she counted Tim Reid’s reaction to her. He never liked her, despite the quality of her work. While she blamed it on his sexism, it probably also had something to do with how she defied the conventionalities to which he adhered.
Tim had a lot in common with her father. When it was announced Tim was taking over the agency, she knew she could not work for him. They would drive each other crazy.
So where to next?
The phone rang, which startled her. There weren’t a lot of people who knew she was even in Philadelphia. It was probably one of those stupid surveys about the hotel service, and she answered it out of sheer boredom. “Hello?”
“Oh, good. I caught you. Ms. Hatcher, this is Mark Sharpe.”
JoJo pumped her fist in the air. Then calmly answered, “Yes, can I help you?”
“I’m downstairs in the lobby. I’ve had second thoughts and was wondering if I could talk to you again.”
“Sure.
