Trish couldn’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm. “It sounds wonderful.”

Adam looked thoughtful. “Cheryl was in charge of the big opening-night gala we’re throwing for the investors.”

“A gala?”

“Red carpet, formal ball, the whole bit.”

“Sounds exciting.”

He stabbed at a small piece of chicken. “It will be if we can still pull it off. That’s something else I’ll need to bring you up to speed on tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’d love to work on something like that. I’ve always dreamed-” She stopped. Whoa. No dreaming, please. What was she thinking? She’d been drawn in by his charm again. She carefully checked her watch, then stood. “Naturally, I’ll be glad to do whatever you need me to do. I’d better be going now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Adam seemed surprised by her abrupt change in attitude, but said smoothly, “Of course, it’s late. Thanks again for everything. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, good night.” She hurried out of his office, grabbed her purse off her desktop and raced to the elevator. As she waited, she berated herself. What was wrong with her, sitting around chatting with him as though they were the best of friends? Lest she forget, Adam Duke was not her friend and never would be.

And furthermore, as far as the opening-night gala was concerned, if she managed to complete the real job she’d come here to do, she’d be long gone before the Fantasy Mountain formal ball ever took place.

Three

She should’ve quit yesterday.

It was now Trish’s fourth day on the job. She’d been through every file drawer along one long wall of her workspace but had found absolutely nothing incriminating about Adam Duke. Nothing that could be used to create even the tiniest public outcry against him and his company. On the contrary, yesterday she’d stumbled upon a full drawer of files containing the many charitable foundations he served on, along with pages and pages of donations he’d given over the years. The man seemed to be a veritable paragon.