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“Nathan and I wanted to tell them in person,” I lie. “And with them living so far away, we haven’t had a chance to yet.”

That sounds plausible, right?

I finish mopping up the spill and drop the sodden paper towels in the garbage.

“The company has access to a private jet,” Hart reminds me.

“I didn’t want Nathan to use it for a personal trip. Global warming and all.” I gather up the pieces of the mug, avoiding Hart’s gaze.

“Miss Nicole. Let’s cut the crap, shall we?”

I watch him warily.

“You’re not in love with my son. This is some ploy to help him win the board vote next month. I don’t know what he’s paying you to play along...” he smirks, “but whatever it is, I’ll pay double.”

“How dare you,” I hiss. I’m shaking with anger now. Anger and fear that he’s figured us out. I drop the shattered pieces of coffee mug in the trash. “I’ll have you know Nathan and I are visiting my parents this weekend. And tell me. Do you really think Nathan Coleman would waste his time tramping through the mud
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