Page 23 of The Auction
Her lips twitch. Almost a smile but she schools it fast.
CASSIDY: I will not tell him.
Now leave me alone.
JAXON: Can’t.
I’ve got a job to do.
CASSIDY: Stalking me isn’t a job.
JAXON: A little light monitoring.. if anything.
Her nostrils flare. I zoom in, frame it and hit the screenshot. That’s art.
She types again, stabbing the screen.
CASSIDY: Where are you sitting?
I’d like to slam that flambé in your smug face.
JAXON: Mmm, I love foreplay.
You look unbelievable tonight.
I attach the screenshot and hit send.
On-screen, she blinks. Sees it. And if looks could kill, I’d be a smoking crater in the middle of Manhattan.
She’s livid.
God, I love it.
Without moving her head, her eyes lift—straight up.
Right at the camera I’m watching her through.
My grin kicks up a notch. I lift my beer in salute like she can see me.
I snag another screenshot and send it to her.
JAXON: Hey, beautiful.
Right then, the corner of my screen lights up with a notification the facial recognition results just hit.
Finance Douche is now identified, and I immediately initiate a full background check.
Pings come back faster than a Red Bull-fueled coder during a hackathon.
My jaw tightens. “My, my. What a colorful history we have here.”
CASSIDY: Don’t call me that.
JAXON: He doesn’t deserve that dress.
I stand, grabbing my phone, heading to the closet.
JAXON: I mean look at this guy…
