Through one open office door, Jess saw a broad window displaying a view of the La Jolla shoreline. Less than a mile away, gulls swooped down over white-capped water, and waves crashed violently against rocky cliffs. It was spectacular.

The annual lease on this property had to be at least a kidney and a half.

The trio tromped along in silence, reaching a set of elevators. River pushed the Up button with a long index finger, and then stared wordlessly ahead.

The silence grew heavy. “How long have you worked here?” Jess asked.

“Since it was founded.”

Helpful. She tried again. “How many employees are there?”

“About a dozen.”

“It’s a shame you’re not in marketing,” Jess said with a smile. “Such charm.”

River turned to look at her, and his expression sent a cold wash of sensation down her arms. “Yes, well. Luckily my talents lie elsewhere.” His gaze lingered on hers for just a beat too long, and the sensation turned into warm static just as the elevator doors opened.

Fizzy elbowed her sharply in the ribs. Sexy things, she was clearly thinking.

Assassin things, Jess mentally replied.

For all of the promises of exploiting this great research opportunity, Fizzy was uncharacteristically quiet; maybe she was also cowed by River’s rigid presence. It meant the rest of the slow elevator ride was as wordless as the bleak center of Siberia. When they stepped out, Jess watched her best friend begin scribbling note after note about—she presumed—the building; the handful of buttoned-up scientists they passed in the second hallway; River’s composed pace, perfect posture, and visibly muscular thighs. Meanwhile, Jess grew increasingly self-conscious about the obnoxious squeak of her sneakers on the linoleum and the relative dumpiness of her outfit. Fizzy was dressed like she usually was—an adorable polka dot silk blouse and pencil trousers—and River was dressed as he usually was—a glossy magazine version of business casual. It hadn’t occurred to Jess that morning as she’d hurriedly pulled on a threadbare UCLA sweatshirt, some old Levi’s, and a pair of scuffed Vans that she would later be strolling down a hallway in the most well-heeled part of biotech La Jolla.

At the end of the hall was an open door leading into a conference room. River paused and gestured for them to walk in ahead of him.

“Have a seat in here,” he said. “Lisa will join you momentarily.”

Fizzy glanced to Jess and then back to River. “Who’s Lisa?”

“She’s the head of customer relations and the lead on our app development. She’ll explain the technology and the matching process.”

Frankly this whole thing had become a boatload of confusing secrecy. “You’re not staying?” Jess asked.

He looked affronted, like she’d suggested he was the company water boy. “No.” With a vague smile, he turned and continued down the hallway. Ass.

Only a couple of minutes later, a brunette walked in. She had the sun-kissed, faux-no-makeup, beachy-waved look of perpetually active Southern Californians who could throw on a shapeless muumuu and look stylish.