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back to work.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    Grant escorted Tamara to her car. He wished that he had the time to continue this discussion elsewhere. Her doggedness impressed him. Although deep down inside he knew that he would end up accepting her candidates, he wasn’t quite ready to give in.
    She unlocked her trunk and opened her briefcase. While she continued to extol the merits of each teenager, he flipped through the file.
    They all exhibited academic excellence. But he’d have to lie if he said that their checkered pasts, and in some cases, too-recent run-ins with the law, didn’t make his gut clench. On paper, they were extremes of good and bad.
    Easy to see why most people would not give them a second look. As cold as it sounded, there were good kids who excelled just as well or better with nothing that was cringe-worthy in their backgrounds. Those were the ones being cherry-picked by the top companies, ready to be molded and tossed into the corporate culture of their sponsors.
    But Benson Technologies had its own unique, indefinable culture. Grant prided himself on making sure that the environment didn’t stifle creativity or create clones. But how far could he go with pushing the limits? Bringing on ten young men to be mentored was a job unto itself. As it was, he maintained a lean staff where everyone worked a job and a half.
    “Please don’t let my...actions and words stop you,” Tamara said. “I’m laying it all on the table. Whatever you can do...” She handed him the last file. Her fingers tightened briefly as he took the file from her.
    He touched her hand. “I promise not to let you sway my decision.” Even as the words left his mouth, Grant had to cross his fingers on his other hand because he had already reneged on that promise.
    Tamara had an eerie power of persuasion that was slowly affecting him. From the tantalizing scent of her perfume, to her sexiness, to her fearless stance, she influenced more than his mind. She caused his body to react as if it were under the influence of a potent drug.
    From what she’d said, he surmised that she didn’t have a plan B. He didn’t think that he was too off the mark. Why else would she have spun herself into a low-grade twister, ready to take him out? Maybe time was running out to help these kids.
    But how far did he want to go?
    He tucked the files under his arm and walked away. He wasn’t done with Tamara Wendell yet.

Chapter 4
    A week had passed since Tamara Wendell had beaten him in a game of golf. Grant had taken the files she had given him back to his office, and now he’d finished reading each teen’s bio. His decision to help hadn’t wavered. How could it waver? He had once been one of those kids on the brink of heading down a bleak path.
    Trespassing. Fighting. Truancy. He had earned his parents’ displeasure and then some. It hadn’t been until his father had landed a solid job and could get their family back together that Grant had turned a corner in his life. But those early years, consumed by poverty and despair, had ripped the family apart. He and his siblings had gone to live with a foster family while his parents had desperately tried to get their lives in order, determined to reunite the family.
    Grant had taken on a rebellious attitude to steel himself against the shame and anger that had grown and swelled in his heart. By the time he was back with his parents, he was out of control. His father had quickly gotten tired of his bad behavior. Considering how hard his dad had been with him, Grant suspected that he hadn’t been able to deal with feeling like a failure. Finally, a strong-willed mentor who didn’t take any of his rage had gotten him on the straight path. But even now Grant hadn’t stopped apologizing for putting his father through the wringer. The guilt still gnawed at his gut.
    Now that Grant had information on the teens, he also wanted information on Tamara. He tossed the assignment to Deanna Rushgrove, his human