Chapter 1 - The Dropped Secrets
Julian did not wait for an answer. He knelt gracefully, his tailored charcoal slacks perfectly creased, and began gathering the spilled contents of Clara’s tote. His large, manicured hands brushed against her small, calloused ones. Clara yanked her hands back as if she had been burned.
"I can get it, sir. I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. She didn't dare look up past his silk tie.
Julian’s eyes scanned the papers before he handed them back. He saw the complex accounting mock-ups, covered in red ink and brilliant marginalia. He saw the final utility shut-off warning, glaring in bold letters. And he saw the pharmacy receipt—two heavy-duty asthma inhalers, painfully expensive, paid for in cash.
"You don't need to apologize," Julian said, his voice a low, soothing baritone that seemed entirely out of place in the sterile, high-stakes lobby. He held out her plastic access badge.
Clara snatched it, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She scrambled to her feet, shoving the crumpled papers back into her frayed bag. "Excuse me," she murmured, practically fleeing toward the service elevator.
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Julian stood up slowly, watching her disappear behind the heavy metal doors. The lobby was beginning to fill with the usual morning rush of executives, but the space suddenly felt entirely empty. He looked down at the granite floor. Lying near the toe of his Italian leather shoe was a cheap, plastic flash drive. She had missed it in her panic.
Julian bent down, picked it up, and slipped it into his pocket. For the first time in months, Julian Hayes smiled. He finally had a reason to speak to her again.
