The Sweetest Hours

“What’s your name?” she asked, smiling.

Something stilled in him. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go quite like this. But he needed to convince her that he wasn’t a threat.

He looked her straight in the eyes. They were pale green and luminescent. The color reminded him of rolling fields in the springtime, but even more beautiful. “George Smith,” he said.

It was another lie. A complete and utter fabrication, but he didn’t feel a twinge of guilt, because it was his “security name.”

A look must’ve crossed his face, because a crease formed on her forehead. “What are you here for today, George?”

He tensed slightly. The moment he’d been waiting for. If she had chatted around the bush much longer, he would have thought less of her. As it was, she was utterly charming about it.

He opened his briefcase and handed her the folded letter. He’d hoped not to have to show it to anyone other than Andrew. It only increased complications.

She glanced questioningly from the letter to him. He kept silent, steepled his hands and waited as she opened it and read.

The printed orders were on letterhead from the CEO of Aura Botanicals, her company. “To Whom it May Concern,” it began, informing the reader to give “all and any assistance to Mr. George Smith, consultant.”

She put down the letter. “You’re a consultant? What kind?”

He frowned. “I specialize in brand expansion and cost savings.”

“So you’re a marketing guy?”

“Business strategy, actually.”

“Why are you here alone on a Saturday? Is Jay selling the company?”

For a split second, Malcolm almost broke his mask. She was more perceptive than Andrew had been. “No,” he said carefully. “Jay doesn’t want to alarm anyone. He just wants suggestions to improve profitability so he can expand the label.”

She digested his answer. “Are you talking about the ‘Morning Botanicals’ product line? Because I’ll tell you, that’s my favorite. People especially like the shampoo, but most can’t find it in stores due to spotty distribution. Maybe you could tell Jay that.”

“Kristin, there are one hundred twenty-five people in your company. Why don’t you tell him?”

“Well, I would, but his wife died a few months ago, and Jay isn’t as available as he used to be. He took her death hard. We all did.” She shrugged, moving to stand in front of the heater again. “We don’t see him as often as we used to around here.”

Which explained the state of the company financials. But Malcolm would discuss nothing of the sort with anyone besides Jay, the CEO.

“May I get back to work, please?” He held his hand out for the letter. God help him if he had to use it again.

“What kind of work are you planning to do today?” she asked, holding back his letter.

He sighed. She just wouldn’t let him off the hook. The irony was, it made him respect her more. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Andrew gave me the computer password so I could retrieve the reports I need from the system. I also need to have a look at the factory equipment. Andrew gave me diagrams, but I’d rather observe for myself.”

“Interesting,” she said, perusing the set of schematics showing the layout of the machinery on the floor. “Did you know I made those drawings?”

“That’s...perfect.”

“Why?”

She was entirely guileless. And she seemingly knew everything about the operations and the company.

“Because I could use your help,” he said.

“I don’t know....” She shook her head, smiling, tapping the letter against her chin. “The directive to give you assistance is definitely from Jay, because I know his signature.” She handed the letter back to him. “But, how do I know you’re George Smith? You really should show me some identification.”

He’d prepared for this, and he gave her his best sheepish look. “I’d like to, but my wallet is in the hotel safe.”

“You came here without a wallet?”

“I was dropped off by a driver,” he said honestly. The driver was supposed to stay with him for the day, but he hadn’t felt well and had returned to the hotel to rest. A damned unlucky move. Malcolm took extraordinary measures to avoid unlucky moves, but what could he do? “I didn’t realize I’d forgotten my wallet until it was too late.”

“You must have something with your name on it,” she said.

He had nothing on him that identified him as Malcolm MacDowall, and that was by design. Everything Malcolm did was by design. He was utterly careful, and he trusted no one.

But a piece of paper to identify him as George Smith?

He snapped open his briefcase again, reached into a folder and withdrew a printer copy of the reservation for his hotel stay. He passed the receipt to her.

She studied it. George Smith. The document did not list a company name for him.

She nodded and passed it back. “Thank you, George Smith. I hope you understand. We can’t be too careful these days.”

“I completely agree.”

“To be sure, though, I need to make a phone call to my supervisor. Will you wait here until I come back?”

Malcolm tried not to wince. It wasn’t his choice to prevaricate. Jay, the owner of Aura Botanicals, had made it a condition of his visit. Jay had seemed deeply sad, almost in a state of numbness the last time Malcolm had met with him. Personally, Malcolm didn’t think it was wise to make business decisions so soon after the death of a loved one, but what Malcolm thought didn’t matter.

And so, Malcolm was “George Smith” today. A generic “security name.” Less messy for all concerned.

As long as Kristin’s supervisor didn’t raise any red flags.

CHAPTER TWO

KRISTIN STRETCHED HER arms, twisted at her waist and then bent down and retrieved her fallen coat. She’d been overcautious in protecting herself from George Smith.

Clearly, he was not a physical threat, she thought, as she walked to the company break room. George seemed harmless enough beneath his rough exterior, once he’d lowered the gruff defenses he hid behind.

She hung her coat on a hook by the far wall, beside the vending machines and the coffee brewers. She couldn’t help but still wonder about the phone conversation she’d overheard him engaged in, but it would’ve been unwise to push him too far. That call had been private...intimate.

In all likelihood he’d been speaking with a Scottish lady. A girlfriend from his homeland, perhaps? That would explain the accent he’d been using—and the reason he’d been covering it up. It could just be simple embarrassment.

Still, it was best she inform her supervisor what was going on in the offices. It was safest that way. She didn’t want Andrew calling her “unprofessional” over her handling of the consultant, not if she could help it.

Carrying her purse under her arm, she slipped down the hall and into her hideaway in the factory. The best part about working at Aura Botanicals was the great smell of the organic body creams that they manufactured—a scent that was everywhere in the air, fresh and clean.

If she used her imagination and considered the silver lining in every cloud, then working for Aura was like taking a spa day every time she came to work. The essential oils of juniper and birch cleared her head, and the milk-based lotions made her feel like Heidi on her own mountain in Switzerland.