“Not necessarily,” Neil said smoothly. “Mr. Griffen has asked me to head up his new operation.”
“New operation?” Monica asked, glancing briefly at Kane before returning her attention to Neil. “And what might that be?”
“Curated Vintage Exchange,” Neil replied. “Import and export of rare relics, antiques for exclusive clientele only.”
The guy was slick. Too slick. And the way he was looking at Monica made Kane’s fists itch. He was either testing her or enjoying the view.
“Congratulations, I guess,” Monica said, folding her arms. “But I don’t see how that concerns me. You could’ve called, maybe even emailed me, and saved yourself the drive.”
“Mr. Griffen said you had spunk,” Neil said with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.
Kane wanted to knock that grin right off his smug face.
“Spunk doesn’t pay the bills,” Monica fired back dryly.
“Mr. Griffen was very fond of your work ethic,” Neil continued. “He’d like you to be part of this new venture. After meeting you, I can see why.”
She hesitated, which was smart. Kane could tell she was testing the guy herself, and she was letting the silence stretch until the man began to fidget. It was a dance of control, and she was leading.
“I don’t know anything about antiques,” Monica said finally, her tone light. “I’m not sure what good I’d be.”
“Are you trying to talk yourself out of a job offer?” Neil teased with a sleezy laugh.
“No,” she said, with the faintest smile. “Just being honest. Didn’t know much about logistics either, but I learned quickly.”
“So, that’s a yes?” Neil leaned forward slightly. “Mr. Griffen would be disappointed if you turned it down. There’s even a pay raise.”
Again, that calculated silence. Kane could practically see her brain working behind those beautiful blue eyes. She was matching Neil’s moves step for step.
“Listen, Mr. Farrar,” Monica said, using his last name. “This is truly bad timing on your part. I am burying my sister tomorrow. There are questions about her death, which is being investigated for foul play.”
Kane frowned, sliding a quick glance at Monica, but she was staring at the man. She was wading close to dangerous territory here and needed to be careful. Looking back at the man, Kane saw the slight narrowing of the eyes before he quickly recovered.
“A family friend who is a retired police officer has advised not only me, but my brother to look into security for not only ourselves, but our homes, since this has been a high-profile case. And honestly, I agree. Until the person responsible is caught, I don’t feel safe.”
“Of course, of course. I understand and can’t say I blame you. There is much evil in this world,” Neil said, nodding his head in understanding. “And again, my apologies for showing up today of all days.”
He sounded contrite, but Kane wasn’t buying it. The guy’s voice had that slick, salesman’s edge, like he’d practiced his sympathy in a mirror.
“But I can assure you,” Neil continued, “we’re securing only the best protection money can buy. And I’m certain Mr. Griffenwill add, as part of your signing bonus, your own personal bodyguard.”
Yeah, I bet he will, Kane thought dryly, fighting back a snort. What better way to keep tabs on Monica as well as the cops’ investigation into her sister’s murder than to plant one of his men at her side twenty-four-seven?
“Why would he do that?” Monica asked, her brow furrowing, head tilting just slightly. Kane had already picked up that she did that when she was really digging into something, and the wheels in her head were spinning faster than her mouth could keep up.
“Mr. Griffen has the utmost respect for you and all of his employees,” Neil assured smoothly. “If you work for him, he’ll make sure you’re well protected.”
Yeah, just like he took care of Joey’s dad, who was six feet under, Kane mused grimly.
“I appreciate that,” Monica said coolly, “but I already have someone, Mr. Farrar. I don’t expect my employer to cover my personal security.”
That snapped Kane’s focus back to her like a whip. She what?
“Oh?” Neil blinked, clearly caught off guard, and he wasn’t alone. Kane even glanced around out of habit, expecting to see some phantom bodyguard lurking in the corner, but he knew better because he would have picked up on that immediately. When his gaze slid back, Monica was staring straight at him.
And so was Neil.
Well, fuck.