wasn’t like the disguise worked anyway—he hadn’t bought her conformist costume for one second. If they were going to work together, she would have to show her true self eventually. It might as well be now.
She even left the nose stud in.
* * *
MARK WATCHED THE elevators for Josephine Hatcher. When he spotted a woman with short dark hair walking toward him, he did a double take.
He would never have thought she was the same woman who had been in his office if it weren’t for the tattoos around her neck. The way her hair stuck up from her head at different angles should have made her look like she’d just woken up. Instead it made her look chic and hip. She wore skinny jeans with knee-high black boots and a bulky sweater that moved with her body. Ms. Hatcher was efficiency in motion, with an edge.
She stopped in front of him and held her arms up, clearly communicating that this was the woman beneath the conservative turtleneck. The woman he would get if he hired her.
Everything in Mark recoiled. Not that she wasn’t attractive in a certain sort of way, but she was so not what he needed in his life right now. Yesterday, he’d thought she was trouble. Now he knew she was more than that. She was dangerous. He could imagine what kind of example she might set for Sophie—who was already staring at the woman with awed admiration.
“Mr. Sharpe, you wanted to talk?”
Now what was he supposed to do? His gut and his brain were at war. This never happened. What was crazier was that his gut and head seemed to be taking opposite sides from what they ought to. His head should have told him that this woman was not employable and his gut should have said to take a chance on her. Instead his head was remembering her résumé, line by line, and his gut was churning with...something.
Ben said this woman was the best. Seriously?
“Uh...sorry to drop by like this unannounced, but I had second thoughts and didn’t want to miss you.”
“I’m glad you stopped by. Who is your sidekick? She looks a little young to be head of the HR department.”
“This is my daughter, Sophie. Sophie this is Josephine Hatcher.”
“JoJo,” she corrected.
Sophie gave him that look of hers. “Why do you have to introduce me as your daughter? Why can’t you just say I’m Sophie?”
“Well, most people like context and the crazy thing is, you are, in fact, my daughter.”
“Whatever, Mark.”
It was her third whatever of the day. He was starting to loathe the word.
He looked at JoJo—what a silly name. “As you can tell, my daughter and I have a very loving and close relationship. It’s why we’re here together today. She can’t stand being apart from me.”
Sophie sat in one of the lobby chairs and said nothing. Mark sat on a couch and gestured to a chair across from it, indicating that JoJo should sit, as well.
He didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to ask, now that, once again, he was firmly against the idea of this woman working for him. She simply wasn’t going to fit in his world. His old one, yes. No question she would have fit. Hell, in his old life he would have been champing at the bit to get to know the woman behind the tattoos.
But in his new world, he couldn’t allow himself to cater to personal whims.
“You don’t quite look like the candidate you presented yourself to be.” Perfect. He could back out under the pretense that she’d misrepresented herself. Covering up her hair length...who did that?
“Sometimes people don’t look past the surface. So I didn’t dress to be obvious.”
“Obvious is one word for it.”
“Mark,” Sophie snapped. “How uncool. Just because she doesn’t look like everyone else that’s somehow wrong?”
Oh, yeah. The joys of fatherhood just kept on coming. “Do you mind, Sophie? I’m conducting an interview.”
“You’re being a total square.”
“Seriously? People still say square?”
“No.” She smirked. “People say douche bag but I thought that was crossing a line.”
“It did,” he snarled.
“Uh, excuse me?” JoJo waved her hand. “My interview, remember?”
“You do understand,” Mark said, “in this line of work blending in matters. Not standing out.” He waved his hand to indicate her whole being as one big standout. “No offense, but you don’t exactly blend.”
“Is that the only thing preventing me from getting this job? You’re concerned about how the way I look would affect my work?”
Not really. But what was he supposed to say? That her unapologetic style bothered him? That he felt uncomfortable merely sitting across from her? That his discomfort wouldn’t be conducive to a solid working relationship? That her eyes were really, really blue?
She would be the only other investigator working for him, and he imagined them spending a lot of time consulting with one another on their cases. Something akin to a partnership. Then there was the idea of having her look into the note. That meant actually trusting this woman.
He couldn’t explain all that. Instead he kept it simple. “I guess it is. I’ve spoken with Ben and he says I would be crazy to let you pass by. In fact, he’s waiting in the wings to scoop you up if I do.”
Another fact that rankled him. If he didn’t hire her and she worked for Ben, he might run into her at Ben’s office. How irritating would it be to find her solving cases for Ben while he was left with someone less talented?
No doubt Ben would lord it over him.
“Okay,” JoJo said, “we’ll make it a challenge. I bet I can leave and, within half an hour, be in your line of sight without you realizing it’s me.”
“That’s totally awesome. Mark, you have to let her do it.”
Mark gave his daughter a wry smile. Maybe he could impress her at last. “JoJo, you do realize I was a CIA black-ops analyst in the field for years.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “And years and years...”
Okay, maybe not.
“Observation is what I do. It’s how I survived. You can’t get past me. Especially not with the tattoos.”
JoJo held out her hand. “It’s a bet then. I do this, I get the job. You win, you get to show off your observation skills to your daughter. The only thing you’re out is a half hour of your time.”
“We were going to go eat—”
“Are you kidding me?” Sophie said. “I’m not leaving. I want to see this.”
JoJo
