I notice one guy eyeing the pair of us every time he walks down the hall. He’s got sandy blond hair styled up in a quiff, and a skin-tight blue suit with a bright yellow pocket square. Kinda dandy for my tastes, but he seems pretty proud of himself about the whole ensemble.

“Who’s that?” I ask Riona.

She takes those pale green eyes off her work for just a moment, so she can glance up and check who I’m talking about.

“Oh,” she says flatly. “That’s Josh Hale. He’s a sneaky little fucker who’s vying for the same job as me. That’s why he keeps trying to spy on us.”

“How much does he want that job?” I ask her.

“A lot,” Riona says.

“Enough to want you out of the way?”

“Maybe. But I don’t know if he’d have the balls to make that happen. He’s not from a mafia family. He’s just your average cutthroat promotion-chaser. The toughest thing about him is the fact that he was on the fencing team at Notre Dame. Which he’ll be sure to tell you within ten minutes of meeting you.”

Once Josh is done staring at us, I see him head into a messy office at the end of the hall. He pops out again only a minute later, looking red-faced and irritated.

Meanwhile, a pretty girl in an orange dress has scooted her chair several feet the left so she can peer through our window, too.

“What about her?” I ask.

“That’s my paralegal, Lucy. I would guess she’s looking in here because she thinks you’re attractive. She’s been single a while.”

Riona says the word “attractive” with a note of disbelief. Still, I can’t help grinning that she basically admitted I’m cute.

“What’re you working on?” I ask her.

“Purchase agreements for the South Shore Development,” she says curtly.

“Is that all you’re doing?”

She sets down her pen, looking up at me with annoyance. “Why?” she says.

“Well,” I reply patiently, “somebody tried to kill you last night. I assume they had a reason. Seems like it might have something to do with one of your current projects . . . ”

“It’s possible,” Riona says. “This is a two-billion-dollar development. That’s enough money to kill somebody over. But it doesn’t make much sense that they’d try to kill me. Drown me in the pool, and my family will just hire someone else to do the paperwork.”

She says it calmly, without emotion. But I think I hear an edge of bitterness in her voice. Like she really thinks the Griffins would just carry on with their project, barely missing her at all.

“I don’t think you get an office like this just by filling out paperwork,” I say.

“I think you know as much about lawyers as I do about chopping wood.” Riona sniffs.

“Fair enough.” I smile at her.

Riona goes back to her work.

I sit back in my chair and think.

The Griffins have a hundred enemies. Rival Irish families. Rival Italian families. Bratva. Polish Mafia . . .