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“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. Uh...” JoJo considered her appearance. She could change out of the jeans and sweater and into something more appropriate, but it would take her at least ten minutes to redo the hair extension. Oh, hell, it 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 winked at Sophie and his daughter smiled. Great, he thought. She’d known this woman for minutes and they had bonded more than he had with his daughter in months.
He did need another agent. Especially if the threat against Sophie was real. JoJo’s résumé did speak for itself....
Not that he was worried about losing, but he conceded that, if she pulled off the impossible, it wouldn’t be the worst thing from a professional standpoint.
Personal, maybe, but he could get over that. He would get over that.
He looked at his watch and pressed the timer.
“You have thirty minutes. You must be in my line of sight. If I identify you, I win. If I don’t, you’re hired. Go.”
She didn’t run. She didn’t leave through the front door, which was what he would have done. Much better to be someone coming in that way, then coming down the elevator where he could concentrate his attention.
Instead, she sauntered to the elevators in that same efficient, but also aggressive, walk of hers. A walk that said, Get out of my way, I’m coming through. She stepped through the door and Mark leaned back to wait.
Thirty minutes. He wished he had a magazine to help kill the time.
CHAPTER THREE
MARK CHECKED HIS WATCH. Twenty-three minutes had passed. He watched the elevators for activity then swung his attention to the front entrance. A man and woman walked in, but a quick assessment told him the woman was well over fifty. Not that makeup couldn’t do wonders, but JoJo wouldn’t have had enough time to put together a costume like that.
He turned to the elevators and spied a family getting out. A mother, a father and a teenage boy who was dressed from head to toe in black and carried a skateboard over his shoulder.
At least he looked like a boy. Mark kept his attention on the kid, searching for tells. There was a tattoo on his arm, but nothing around his neck. Was that sparkle on his face a nose ring? He heard Sophie gasp—clearly she was wondering the same thing.
Had JoJo, a small woman, turned herself into an average-sized teenage boy?
The front door opened again and a single woman walked in. Tall, blond, pretty, wearing a shockingly red coat over a short skirt and high heels. Mark assessed her quickly, and decided anyone trying to blend in wouldn’t wear such an eye-catching color, nor something so provocative as the short skirt. It would naturally draw the attention of any man in the vicinity. It, in fact, drew his. Her legs were fabulous.
Still, there was something about the way she moved. Mark’s gaze followed her to the desk, where she asked to use a phone. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she held the receiver to her ear. Mark could not see tattoos on her neck.
“Twenty-eight minutes,” Sophie announced.
Mark stood to scope out hiding spots around the lobby where she could claim to be in his line of sight, but actually be hidden from view. The people working behind the desk hadn’t changed, so she hadn’t sneaked in that way. The family stood together, using the lobby computer. The boy had his back to Mark, so he couldn’t check for blue eyes. Instead Mark studied the shape of his back, his height.
Close. Definitely close to JoJo’s height. Had she paid the two people to pose as parents?
“Twenty-nine minutes. She’s so going to win.”
Mark shot Sophie a glance and started toward the kid. A motion in his periphery caught his attention. The woman on the phone had lifted a leg up behind her. He followed that beautiful leg to her shoes.
Not just high heels. Platform high heels. They raised her height by at least two inches.
Gotcha.
“Time is up. Who is she?”
Mark looked at his daughter. “Do you know?”
“I have my suspicions.” Her smile was smug.
Smiling. Sophie was smiling. Mark looked at the blonde again. She had turned and he briefly caught her eye, but she bent her head and continued talking into the phone.
“You think that’s her?” Mark pointed toward the kid.
Sophie’s face fell a little. She obviously thought JoJo was the boy, and that he had won. He wasn’t sure if Sophie was displeased that he had won or that JoJo had lost.
