To her credit, she raised her chin and holstered her “weapon” with the grace of a queen. ”I was…I do community theater. So I had to practice. For our play.”
“Play?” He dragged his gaze away from her smoking-hot body to meet her eyes.
“Yep, The Big Stupid Idiot. Neil Simon, you know.” She nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line and sucking in a deep breath.
She was turning into quite the accomplished little liar, even if her face did give it all away. Given his current state of befuddlement at her chilly beauty morphing into red-hot sexiness literally overnight, he opted not to call her on it. They both had something they were trying to hide. Might as well leave it even steven.
“Yeah, well, I wanted to go over some things with you. So get your stuff and we’ll get started.” He could hear the gruffness in his voice, but she seemed grateful for the change of subject and snapped to attention, collecting her shoes with a solemn nod.
“Right, of course. Lead the way.”
She followed him back down to the basement, and he asked her to wait outside until he gave her the go-ahead. Closing the door behind him, he gave Maddy a cool, appraising stare, but she didn’t bother glancing up from her newspaper. Instead, she said, “Unless you’ve got some kind of X-ray vision and are trying to locate a tumor, stop looking at me like that.”
“Be nice, okay? It’s important for Owen.”
Maddy rolled her eyes. “I’m the nicest person you know.”
“No, you’re not. Lindy is the nicest person I know, and the rest of my associates are ex-Special Forces, mercenaries, and criminals.”
She buffed her nails on her pants and didn’t reply.
“Maddy?”
She groaned and slumped in her chair before nodding. “Fine. You have my solemn oath. You need a blood seal or something or are we good now?”
“We’re good.” He opened the door for Sarabeth, and she stepped into the room.
She paused, mid-step, fingers tugging at her top, when her gaze caught on Maddy. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize there was someone else here. I can…?” She stopped fiddling with her neckline and gestured toward the door with a polite smile.
Maddy’s face lit with mirth as she turned to face him. “Ah, yes. You were correct, Gavin. Your protégé does appear to be very…qualified.”
Her pointed smirk wasn’t lost on him, and he wished he could defend himself without Sarabeth catching on. Sure, the doc looked hot in her second-skin black gear, but to be fair, he never would have guessed she’d fill them out so well, and he’d taken on the case before then.
“Hi.” Maddy stood and stuck out a hand. “I’m Maddy Saunders, Gavin’s partner at McClintock and Saunders. Welcome aboard.”
Sarabeth took her hand and shook it. “I’m…Sara Lockwood.”
Good. He hadn’t reminded her, or warned her that Maddy was going to be there, and she’d remembered to use her cover.
Maddy eyed her hard and pressed her. “Gavin says you want to be a PI? What type of work did you do before this?”
It was a reasonable question, given that she was in her late twenties rather than a kid fresh out of school, but one that he hadn’t given any thought to. He’d been so worried about covering their tracks, he hadn’t gotten to creating a full dossier for her yet. Leave it to Maddy to see if Sarabeth had her backstory memorized before they introduced her to the rest of the staff.
“I went to culinary school but realized it wasn’t my forte,” Sarabeth responded smoothly.
The lie rolled off so easily, he found himself staring at her. She was always so flustered whenever he asked her anything or talked to her and until now, he would’ve cited her as the worst liar in history. Now, five seconds into meeting Maddy, she was confident and together and had all the answers. He’d have to take some notes.
Maddy’s eyes lit with grudging respect, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who was impressed. “Not bad. If you can keep that up, you’ll do fine. If you have any questions, I’m sure Gavin can handle them. See you around.”
Maddy crossed the floor and let herself out, but not before she caught Gavin’s gaze and bit down on her knuckle exaggeratedly in the universal sign for “hot damn, she’s a looker.” He ignored her and turned to face Sarabeth as she padded across the gray carpet to stand in front of his desk, a frown marring her face.
“She hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t. She hates me right now,” he clarified, picking up the next file. “She thinks I’m going to dump you on her.” And possibly, that I’m trying to get in your pants.
“I’m sorry for that. I can imagine you’re not thrilled about your routine being disrupted.”
She sounded miserable, and he pretended to read the papers he held in his hand rather than glancing at her. Partly because he didn’t want to see her sadness, partly because he didn’t trust himself not to stare at her cleavage. “No problem.”
She sank to the visitor’s chair and leaned closer until he had no choice but to turn his attention to her.
“I know it’s a problem. I know all of this has been a problem, and I’m sorry. I’m going to stop. My behavior has been unacceptable. From now on, you’re the boss, and I’m going to make your life as easy as possible.”
He held her gaze, trying not to let the soft green eyes draw him in, but damned if he could stop it. The newly darkened hair was the perfect foil for them, and his thoughts drifted to witches and spells for an instant. The only thing keeping him from flipping the desk to the side to get closer to her was the constant bickering between them. If that was gone?
He’d end up in a little town called Fucked.
Close enough to keep an eye on, far enough to continue keeping her at arm’s length. If he wanted to stay clearheaded and effective, he needed to keep her annoyed enough to create a separation between them, and annoying enough to keep him from wanting to bridge the gap. So he did it the only way he knew how.
“We’ve got a job to do, and you’re going to help me.”
Chapter Seven
A job. Well, that wouldn’t be so hard with him around. Besides, it would give her the opportunity to prove to him that she wasn’t the flimsy, crying mess he’d met the day before. No, she was a warrior. Like Maddy. Like him. Her thoughts were instantly drawn back to her Finger Pistol Patty impression, and she winced. No way he’d bought her community theater excuse. She’d nabbed that one from Lindy, who’d told Owen the same thing early on in their relationship after an ill-fated fifties movie star impression. It hadn’t worked for her either, and Sarabeth knew things were going badly if she was looking to Lindy for inspiration. She loved her dearly, but she was a total nutball sometimes.
And now it’s finally rubbed off on you. The thought was almost as scary as the person trying to kill her.
“This will be yours,” Gavin said as he opened a drawer and laid an ominous-looking black gun between them on the oak desk. “There’s a holster attachment on those pants.” He nodded in the direction of her hips, and she tried not to show him how badly her hand was shaking as she picked up the pistol.
Apparently, her new persona was going to be initiated through trial by fire. Literally.
“Don’t worry, it’s not loaded. Just something to keep anybody who might want to come near you on their toes.”
“At eight in the morning?”
“Trust me to handle things at exactly the right moment, and we’ll do fine.”
His matter-of-fact words brought back the shuddering memory of him tackling her an instant before her car exploded into a fireball. She couldn’t argue that timing seemed to be a strong suit.
“Okay, then. You’re the boss.” And I’m the bait, she added, swallowing hard to try and muster up her courage.
I’m a warrior. I’m a survivor. She played the words over and over in her head, trying desperately to overpower her other, more natural mantra. I’m terrified. I look ridiculous. And the other, most quiet and yet more powerful internal reminder: I could die, and aside from Lindy, no one would really give a crap.
“Right then, no time to waste. Let’s go.” He stood and walked toward the door, cool as if they were headed to the grocery store.
When they’d run the gamut of alarm-setting and door-locking and had finally settled in the car, she got up her nerve to ask him. “So…what are we going to be doing?” Clearly, she didn’t hide her fear as well as she hoped, because he grinned.
“Don’t worry. It’s your first day. We’re going to take things nice and slow.” He glanced at her for a second before concentrating on the road again.
She swallowed hard, wondering why she could feel her heart beating in every cell of her body. Blood was rushing in her ears. Her hands were shaking. She’d be thankful if she didn’t simply pass out by the time they got wherever they were going. “Doing what?”
He considered her for a moment, examining her in the reflection of his visor mirror. “Simple security check.”
That didn’t seem so bad. Check some perimeters, probably look at some cameras, make sure they were functioning, see if the footage was clear maybe. It was like security preschool. That would be some relief from all the stress, a way to ease into handling the crisis that was so suddenly thrust upon her. Not to mention, give her something else to think about besides her impending death. Maybe she’d find something Gavin didn’t see, and he’d be impressed by how observant she was. By the time she emerged from her daydreams, though, she realized that he was parking in a crowded lot adjoining a strip mall.
“Are we stopping in to—” She glanced at the names of the shops. “Very Clean Chicken Shack?” She wrinkled her nose, but when he popped the car into park and got out, she followed suit.
“That place has the best red beans and rice in town, but unfortunately we’re not here for food. Get ready for your first lesson. We’ve got a job to do, and sometimes it’s easier to hide in a crowd than in perceived seclusion. Lots of cars here, people coming in and out.” He ambled over to the stores, toting a large black briefcase he pulled from the backseat along with him, and she followed close behind, trying to catch what he was saying. Really, this first pro tip of his seemed like a lesson in the obvious.
“Okay, then. So are we testing this mall’s security?” She eyed the Duds and Suds bar/Laundromat warily.
“No, there’s a chain-link fence behind these shops. Once we scale that, we’ll be in a gated community.”
She blinked rapidly. Scale that? He said it as if it was no big thing. She’d never been much of a climber. Between the designer outfits her grandmother always made her wear and her innate fear of ever breaking the rules, climbing anything—be it tree, rock, or fence—had been pretty much out of the question. But it was probably no big deal, really. They’d see how stable an enclosure was, high five all around, and then head home to make sure nobody made any more attempts on her life. That seemed like a fair enough deal. “All right, then.”
They crunched over some fallen twigs and rounded the back of the strip mall. Less than a minute later, the fence in question came into view, and she wished she could stuff every stupid word back into her mouth. The thing stood more than twice as tall as Gavin, probably at a solid fifteen feet, and above the chain there were spirals of long, sharpened barbed wire.
“Right then, here we are.” He opened his briefcase and shuffled around its contents without sparing her a glance.
She peered over his shoulder, her stomach in knots. “Oh my gosh. Is that a grappling hook?” Anxiety bubbled in her stomach, threatening the back of her throat. “I didn’t agree to grappling.” Already her words were raspier than she would have liked, but she cleared her throat, remembering again that she wasn’t Sarabeth Lucking in that moment. She was Sarah Lockwood, experienced kick-butt security gal. She could do this.