Chapter 13

Less than twenty minutes later, I’m in the back of a large SUV with tinted windows and sitting mere inches away from him. My briefcase is on my lap, and I have a pen in one hand. I’m preoccupied, mulling over the weirdness of this request.

“That habit is at odds with how you present yourself, you know.”

I look up at his remark questioningly. He is regarding me, half-smirking.

What the hell is he talking about?

I then realize I have a strand of hair between my fingers, absent-mindedly twisting it. I drop it and still my hands on my lap, internally cursing him out.

For God’s sake.

It’s the being unprepared that has me on edge.

Nice move, Emma.

I scowl inside at teen Emma, always peeking at me from the recesses of my mind, and I smile tightly at Jake in response.

“Nervous habit?” he presses further, looking smugger.

“I don’t get nervous, Mr. Carrero,” I respond drily.

Because I’ve spent many years perfecting the art of h