by Cat Johnson
"Gotcha."
"I'll get the paperwork we'll need you to fill out. We'll need to run some checks and clear you before you start interacting with clients and handling business. There's a non-disclosure agreement too. It might seem like a lot but given the kind of jobs we do and who our clients are, it's all necessary."
"I understand."
The guys hiring these escorts were probably some of the big names in politics, not only in D.C. but around the world. They couldn't risk me selling their secrets.
"Good." His smile turned to a frown. "I almost forgot. I need you to arrange for new locks for the front door. And find a contractor who can install a steel door with a secure lock on that closet."
I followed the direction he pointed. "For the coat closet?" I asked.
He grinned. "Not for long. It's going to be the weapons room when we're done."
Weapons room? My eyes widened.
I glanced down at the business card and at the logo embossed above the letters GAPS. The same insignia was on Zane's shirt. I studied it closer on the card in my hand. It featured angel wings and a ship's anchor . . . and a really, really big gun.
I drew in a breath and raised my eyes. "One more question."
"Of course." He nodded.
"What does GAPS stand for again?"
"Guardian Angel Protection Services." He sniffed out a short laugh. "That's what you get when you give a team of Navy SEALs some beer and ask them to come up with a name for your new PMC."
"PMC?" I asked, a bit afraid of the answer.
"Private military contractor."
My eyes widened further.
"Don't worry. We'll try to keep you out of the gunfire. Promise." He laughed like it was a joke, which I guess to him it was.
To me, not so much. I forced a laugh as my mind whizzed through a review of the events of the day, trying to figure out how the hell I’d ended up here.
My new boss pulled out his cell. "Let me call Jon and see if he can email all the paperwork you'll need."
"Okay. Sure."
He turned and I noticed the bulge under his shirt at the back of his pants. A gun, I guessed.
As he was busy on the phone getting the papers I'd need to be cleared by the NSA or FBI or whatever, I whipped out my own cell.
I closed the map and got back to the search results page and there it was. I saw exactly where I’d gone wrong. Listed right below Angel Escort Services was Guardian Angel Protection Services.
I'd hit the wrong name and gotten the wrong directions. I’d gone to the wrong office.
Holy shit, I'd gotten the wrong job.
A job working for a Navy SEAL. A job that required a security check. A job in an office that had a weapons room.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
Sound interesting? GET THE BOOK
FIND MORE TITLES BY CAT JOHNSON AT
CatJohnson.net/books
ABOUT CAT JOHNSON
A top 10 New York Times bestselling author, Cat Johnson writes the USA Today bestselling Hot SEALs series, as well as contemporary romance featuring sexy alpha heroes who often wear cowboy or combat boots. Known for her creative marketing, Cat has sponsored bull riding cowboys, used bologna to promote her romance novels, and owns a collection of camo and cowboy boots for book signings. She writes both full length and shorter works.
For more visit CatJohnson.net
Sign up for deal & new release alerts at
http://catjohnson.net/news
BILLIONAIRE FOR HIRE
Copyright © 2018 by Cat Johnson
All Rights Reserved
CatJohnson.net
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.