“You don’t have to stay,” I told her.
“I know.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because I want to see how a man carries himself after losing something he thought mattered.”
“That sounds like an experiment.”
“Most interviews are.”
I smiled.
Then one of her attorneys hurried from the conference room.
His expression had changed.
“Mrs. Halston.”
She turned.
“What is it?”
“We have a problem.”
“What kind?”
He glanced at Gavin, then at me.
“Confidential Halston acquisition documents were accessed last night.”
Eleanor’s face hardened.
“From where?”
The attorney hesitated.
“This office.”
Everyone stopped talking.
The files had been traced to an internal computer.
When the attorney showed us the device identification, I recognized my own name.
CHRISTOPHER BENNETT.
My entire body went cold.
“That’s impossible.”
Gavin looked frightened rather than surprised.
I turned toward him.
“Gavin?”
He glanced between my cardboard box and laptop.
Then he whispered:
