But now, he knew for certain that the old man had lied. About Jase’s life. A web of lies that had grown with the years. Well, hell, what had Jase expected? He hit the Print button on several documents and tried to keep his rage in check.

It was time to call Edward Prescott Bridges on his crap.

Tossing the documents into his briefcase, he headed outside, but as he was walking out the glass doors, he nearly ran into Brianna Hayward heading into the offices of the Observer.

“Hey! I was coming to see you,” she said. In sunglasses, her dark hair caught in a loose bun, she looked a little messy and sexy as hell as she stopped short and he stepped outside.

A woman with pale hair and a pissed expression was walking a dog past the building. Jase had to hop over the beagle’s tether to avoid tripping.

“Hey!” the blonde said irritably as beads of sweat glimmered over her compressed lips. “Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry.” He backed away just before he became entangled in the leash.

“Jerk! Some people!” She half-trotted briskly ahead, the dog straining and pulling her forward. “Get a life!”

“Still making friends,” Brianna observed drily.

“Always.” He watched the dog tug its owner around a corner at the end of the block, then turned his attention to Brianna. God, she was beautiful. A carbon copy of what Arianna would have looked like, had she survived. His jaw clenched a bit, and he remembered his resolution to stick to business with Brianna.

Too late.

Jase felt drawn to her, wanted to know more about her. Because of Arianna and his guilt? Of course. His emotions played a big part in it, but there was more to his attraction. Something about the way she angled her face up to his, her eyes guarded by the oversized colored glasses, her chin a little point, her lips wide. He was near enough to observe a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Silently he told himself that being this close to her was dangerous.

“I think we need to talk, Bridges,” she said.

More than you know, he thought.

She added, “But probably, considering the heat and lack of privacy, not here in the street.”

Good idea.

“Your office?” she suggested.

Bad idea. The conference room was currently occupied, and his desk wasn’t exactly private. He cringed inside, thinking about Meri-Jo being so close, always with half an ear cocked in his direction, sometimes doing her own research on stories assigned to him, trying to one-up him. She was such a pain.

Brianna started for the door, but he grabbed the crook of her arm. “Not here.”

“No?”

“Too noisy, too much going on.” He offered a wry smile. “The Observer, it’s a happenin’ spot.”

“If you say so.”