That would not be a very good day.
He paid for the meal in cash and they retrieved their coats. He waited until they were outside until he spoke again. The mood between them, which had been friendly an hour ago, was as icy as the air.
“Look, Autumn, let me give you the lowdown on Eleanor,” he said, softening his voice. “She’s very old-fashioned. She doesn’t want her money being handled by computers, but by real people. Any investments we advise are going to be backed up by real numbers, forecasted to predict the dividends she could expect to receive in x number of years.”
Autumn nodded, looking contrite, and for a moment he felt guilty for getting so angry at her.
She tilted her chin, and he noticed she had a tiny mole on her jawline. “When do we get started?”
“Immediately. The presentation is in two weeks. I want you to begin looking into possibilities this afternoon. I have a full day of meetings tomorrow, so if you’re available, I’d like to have an early dinner so we can review your initial recommendations.”
Autumn buttoned up her coat. “There are hundreds of industries or companies she could possibly invest in. Any idea where to start?”
Isaac thought a moment. “How about with her best friends?”
Autumn gave him a quizzical smile. “And who might they be?”
“Diamonds.”
She burst out in a deep, knowing laugh, which was definitely better than almost making her cry.
He wiggled his fingers at her. “Now let’s bust open these hand warmers and get back to the office. We both have a lot of work to do.”
As they walked back, hands stuffed deep in their coat pockets against the harsh January winds, Isaac knew the hardest part of the days and nights ahead would be trying to stop Autumn from getting under his skin, or into his heart.
Chapter 4
When they got back to Paxton, Autumn stopped at the restroom to freshen up. Just as she suspected, the tears she’d nearly unloaded on Isaac had taken a toll on her mascara. Of course, they weren’t real. She’d only pretended that she was going to cry.
Deep down she hated to use such a manipulative trick, but it was the only way she knew how to get a sense of his character.
She wet a paper towel and dabbed at her eyelashes. When she was finished, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Thank goodness, Isaac had passed her test.
He cared.
She was impressed with how well he treated the street vendor and their waiter at the restaurant. He didn’t have to give either man any extra change or tips, but he did.
And he didn’t have to care whether her hands were cold, either. Her heart swelled remembering how he’d bought her the hand warmers. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so sweet for her, just to save her from discomfort.
And she was relieved because maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t like all the other greedy, stingy, emotionally dead men she’d met—and busted—while working undercover.
In her experience, the maxim “the bigger the bank account, the larger the ego” was a reality. There was something about making a ton of money that made some men turn into arrogant egomaniacs who thought they were above the law.
It was true that Isaac didn’t seem to be too concerned about how Wall Street sometimes negatively affected Main Streets all around the world. He was likely worried about his job, and rightly so; otherwise, Sterling wouldn’t have hired her to investigate him.
If he didn’t have the activist mentality that she did, perhaps it was because he truly believed he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Autumn hoped that’s what she would discover, too. All she had to do was remember to avoid letting her emotions get in the way of her case.
When she got back to her office, Isaac’s door was open, but he wasn’t there. Presumably, he was already well into his afternoon meetings.
She hung up her coat, walked to the desk and noticed a light blinking on her phone.
Oh joy, she thought, her first voice mail.
Twenty minutes later, she’d figured out how to retrieve the message. It was Sterling calling for an update. The man certainly didn’t waste any time, she mused while locking her purse in her desk. Although she wasn’t particularly afraid it would get stolen, she wasn’t stupid.
Petty crimes in the workplace were a common occurrence—a box of binder clips here, a laptop there. She wasn’t about to give anyone the rope of temptation. Plus, the location of her office was a little remote, which was likely the reason it was originally used for storage.
Autumn grabbed a pen and an index pad and headed down to Sterling’s office. His secretary, Doris, a plump woman who somehow managed to look attractive even with a tiny gap in her front teeth, informed Autumn that Sterling was on a call and she would have to wait.
Ten minutes later, the woman ushered her into his office and Autumn almost burst out laughing when she tiptoed out. But when she saw Sterling’s face, she knew why. The man looked like he could melt copper off a penny with his eyes alone.
She took a few, tentative steps toward his desk. “I got your voice mail. You wanted to see me?”
Sterling motioned her closer, waving his hands impatiently.
“Yes, yes. Come in.”
Autumn parked herself in one of the maroon-tufted leather chairs fronting Sterling’s enormous desk.
She gave him her sweetest smile. “Is there anything wrong?”
“The world’s gone to hell, that’s all,” he barked, and sat down hard. “I’m hoping you have some good news for me. What have you learned so far?”
That Isaac was as kind as he was cute, she thought, but she knew that wasn’t the information Sterling was seeking.
“Not much yet,” she admitted. “We went to lunch and he informed me of our assignment.”
“And what do you think?”
“It’s brilliant.”
“I know,” Sterling replied. “I thought of it, didn’t I?”
Autumn wanted to gag at the air of superiority in his tone, but at least his eyes didn’t have daggers in them anymore.
“You certainly did, and it’s the perfect way for me to observe how Isaac prepares for a new client presentation from start to finish.”
Sterling steepled his fingers. “I called you in here because I want you to know that this is a real assignment with a real client, not a decoy.”
Autumn nodded. “I’m glad you told me. I was kind of wondering about that when Isaac indicated the client seems to be afraid of computers.”
“Eleanor Witterman is not afraid of computers,” Sterling corrected. “She simply doesn’t trust them. Quite frankly, on days like today, I think she might be right.”
Autumn raised an eyebrow, not knowing what he meant but gathering it had something to do with the world going to hell.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Paxton. I’ll do my best to make every investment we advise as transparent as possible.”
“Good,” he replied with a satisfied nod. “How do you like your office?”
“It’s great. Nice touch on the old office furniture. Very film noir. I feel like Jimmy Cagney’s going to show up at any second and offer me a cigar.”
He snorted a laugh. The sound was like a