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a better show.”

Their gazes held.

Jenny’s breathing was a tad too fast, but she couldn’t seem to slow it down.

Olivia’s eyes had darkened to a rich, golden brown. “You should work up a presentation and show Derek,” she said, breaking their heated impasse.

“What?” Jenny sat back abruptly. “No way!” Then her heart skipped a beat while her stomach rolled. “Wait, is this your big plan?” She glared at Olivia. “This is how you’re going to get me out of the way, isn’t it? Set me up to look dumb in front of Derek. You didn’t manage it completely with the Excelsior stuff, so now you’re—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Olivia hissed, her forehead creased. “I’m not planning anything! You’ve got a fantastic idea for—”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Jenny folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not stupid, Olivia. Sure, I can be a little gullible but I’m not dumb. I know what you did before, and I’m not letting you do it to me again.” She rewrapped her untouched sandwich, then picked it up and rammed it in her bag. She pushed back from the table. “Nice try.” She was furious with herself that she’d nearly fallen into Olivia’s trap.

Olivia stared at her. She looked distraught. Not even angry, just upset. Oh crap, is she going to cry?

“Jenny.” Olivia’s voice was thin and trembling. “Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She was good at this; her hurt seemed almost real.

Jenny steeled herself. “Look, I get that you want this job. I get that you’re ambitious. But taking all my photos and notes from that visit to the hotel and presenting it to Derek, claiming it all as your own work? That sucks. I’m not a doormat, Olivia. Sure, I didn’t say anything about that stunt at the time, but I won’t let you stomp all over me again.”

Olivia stood, placed her palms flat on the table, and leaned toward Jenny. “I didn’t do anything with the Excelsior photos and notes.” She enunciated each word as if speaking to a child. “I certainly didn’t take them to Derek.” Her voice was rough, tight. “Let me guess, Chrissy told you that?”

Jenny frowned. “Yes, she did. She’s looking out for me.” Isn’t she? In the face of what seemed to be Olivia’s genuine denial, Jenny’s doubts about Chrissy’s motives when it came to Olivia surfaced once more. But why would Chrissy lie to me about that Excelsior stuff?

Olivia blew out a loud breath. “Well, a lot of things make a lot more sense now.” She straightened. “I swear to you, I did nothing with your notes from the Excelsior. And your idea to improve this ghastly show is wonderful. I have no ulterior motive in saying that, or suggesting you work up a presentation for Derek. But somehow, I don’t think you’ll ever believe me. You’ve already made up your mind based on the misinformation she’s fed you, that I can’t be trusted.” She grabbed her purse and stepped away from the table. Then she turned back. “You say you’re not a doormat, but that’s exactly how Chrissy is treating you. If only you could see that for yourself.”

With one last mournful look at Jenny, Olivia left.

Jenny watched her go, her mind in turmoil. Someone was lying to her. Olivia, who’d been fairly snooty to her from minute one? Or Chrissy, who’d generally fallen over herself to be helpful and welcoming? It seemed clear, didn’t it? And yet… Jenny couldn’t claim to know either woman that well after only knowing them for a couple months. So why was so she willing to accept everything Chrissy said as the gospel truth when she couldn’t do the same for Olivia?

Chapter 17

It hurt. Good God, it hurt. Olivia didn’t want it to. She wanted to be able to scrub that entire conversation from her mind and spend the rest of the day in blissful ignorance of how little Jenny trusted her.

She took her time walking back to the office; she had no meetings for another two hours and, quite frankly, she had no desire to be back at her desk until five minutes before they started. To hell with everything that waited in her inbox.

“Bloody Chrissy.” The words, spoken aloud, earned her a sideways glance from the suited man she’d ended up walking alongside. Fuck him, she thought. New York was full of people talking to themselves; what difference did one more make?

Chrissy was now a serious problem, it seemed. One Olivia could no longer ignore. What she needed, however, was solid evidence. Proof. It was obvious from what Jenny said that Chrissy had somehow taken Jenny’s work and presented it as if it were Olivia’s. Or at the very least, complained about that so-called fact to Derek, whose ear she seemed to command. Maybe that was the angle—whatever Chrissy and Derek were doing with each other. She shuddered at the image.

When she finally arrived back at the office after two, Maxwell was back in his chair opposite Jenny. Olivia was relieved; the last thing she wanted was her and Jenny alone again.

As soon as Olivia sat, Jenny sprang up, telling Maxwell she had some work uptown. After undocking her laptop and cramming it into her messenger bag, she left without a single glance back at Olivia.

Sighing, Olivia logged back into her laptop and skimmed over her inbox. Nothing dramatic, which gave her more thinking time. She entered the SharePoint site and searched the directory. It didn’t take long to find Jenny’s original files from that visit to the Excelsior. She whistled in appreciation at Jenny’s extremely well-structured directory, with main folders, subfolders, and sub-subfolders. Such a comparison to Chrissy’s, she discovered a minute later, which were a shambles. How the hell does she find anything in here?

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for but decided to check every single folder for something, anything, she could use to prove to Jenny it was Chrissy who couldn’t be trusted, not Olivia. While she

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