A wealthy business owner teams up with a bumbling investigator to uncover the reason his girlfriend died four years earlier. Will he get the answers he seeks? Or will his obsessive pursuit of the truth lead to his own demise?
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Geoffrey watched as Lance Bueller, the vice president of Hollister Holdings, exited Cole Hollister's office. Lance leaned against the door, closed his eyes, and exhaled deeply.
"Mr. Bueller?" Geoffrey called out tentatively. "Is everything okay?"
Lance turned his head. A flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes before the normally easy-going vice-president flashed Geoffrey a smile. "Everything's fine. I suggest you give your boss a few minutes alone before going in there." He stuck a thumb out towards Cole's office.
"Yes, sir," Geoffrey said, his fingers snapping at the red suspenders he typically wore—a habit he acted on when he was nervous. "Did you need me to get you anything? A cup of coffee or some tea? You seem stressed."
"I do?" Lance snapped, walking closer to Geoffrey's desk.
Geoffrey winced. "Sorry, sir. I don't mean to imply anything. I know Ms. Crawler was here and Mr. Hollister—"
Lance made a tsking sound. "You aren't about to talk poorly about your boss behind his back, are you?"
Geoffrey blinked before shaking his head and waving his hands in front of him. "No, not at all. I've very loyal to Mr. Hollister. He's the best boss I've ever had."
"Is that so?" Lance grinned. He placed both his hands on Geoffrey's desk, staring at the assistant's nameplate. "How long have you worked for Mr. Hollister, Geoffrey?"
"Th-three years," Geoffrey answered, fidgeting in his seat.
Lance leaned forward so his face was inches in front of Geoffrey's. "In these three years, you've never thought of leaving Cole's side? You never thought of betraying him?"
"No," Geoffrey lied. If he was being honest, he would love to work with Lance, but that probably wouldn't be wise. Being around the handsome vice president would eventually become distracting. Cole Hollister was equally gorgeous, but his demeanor was too serious for Geoffrey to imagine himself being in a relationship with the president.
Lance raised a brow and tucked a finger around one of Geoffrey's suspender straps, slowly inching his finger down before saying, "You dress just like my grandfather."
Geoffrey jumped back, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment. The elastic band snapped against his chest. Lance took a step away from the desk, straightening his suit jacket.
"I'm sorry," Geoffrey whispered, unsure of why he was apologizing.
Lance chuckled. "Don't be. I think it's cute."
The vice president winked before leaving a stunned Geoffrey alone at his desk.
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