Jamie couldn’t help snorting a laugh so hard he doubled over. “What kind of guys do you like?”
“Not you.” She nodded at the door. “Go. Logan and the others are probably at Trinity Hall Pub now. Figure out what you want to do, and for the love of God, no new girlfriends, okay?”
Jamie handed the half eaten bar of chocolate back to her and stood. Despite the fresh wound, part of him really was excited about this opportunity. So maybe the universe really was trying to tell him to take this risk?
1.
Two weeks later. Wednesday. Washington, DC.
Jamie swiped a rag across his brow in an attempt to mop up some of the sweat. A whole damn week of twiddling his thumbs and the day he decided to go for a mid-afternoon run the Team Leader summoned him to the Task Force Headquarters. There wasn’t even time for a shower or a change of clothes based on how terse the phone call had been.
Whoever had planned out this whole operation had been thorough.
A new set of apartments sat directly beside a small business complex that outwardly appeared to be limping along. On the inside, however, it was a state-of-the art black site. Jamie and the other Aegis Group guys lived in the building closest to the site, their apartments paid for and furnished.
Jamie swiped his key card at the side entrance and stepped into the frigid building, shivering as his body temperature dropped. He paused by the bathroom to wash up as best he could before heading toward the Assistant Director’s office.
“Silva,” a man barked.
Jamie paused and glanced over his shoulder. Logan Muller was the kind of guy who stood out in a crowd. He was tall, with arms like tree trunks, calculating eyes that could strip a person of their dignity without ever saying a word and one of the best damn tacticians Jamie had the pleasure of working with.
He waited for the man to catch up to him. “We have orders?”
Logan Muller stared straight ahead and kept walking. “Not the kind you’re going to like.”
You?
As in Jamie?
He sped up, matching his TL’s stride. “Come on, man. What are we in for?”
Logan merely shook his head, that grim look getting more ominous with every step.
Jamie let Logan enter the office of Supervisory Special Agent Zora Clark first. She might only be the task force’s assistant director, but he’d seen a hell of a lot more of her than he had the man in charge.
“Jamie, thanks for coming so soon.” SSA Clark closed a file and pulled another toward her. She was an unexpected figure among the mostly male crowd. Early thirties, she exuded an authority and maturity beyond her years. Her short, cropped hair set off a delicate face and skin the color of rich mahogany.
“Agent Clark, TL says you’ve got a job?” Jamie remained standing, acutely aware of the new leather smell of her furniture.
“Zora, please? Yes.” She opened the folder revealing a glossy professional headshot of a woman with the smile of an angel. “You’re familiar with HiTech Inc, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jamie said slowly. He’d done more than a little work with the company’s guidance systems used on a variety of weapons during his days in the Special Forces.
“This is Tabby Grissler, the founder’s daughter. She’s poised to take over, which means she’s working on the executive level of HiTech, but before that she worked in their research and development department. We need their help, but given the nature of our operation, we can’t ask for it. What we,” Zora nodded at Logan who merely scowled harder, “would like you to do is get close to her tonight. We need access to her phone so we can ascertain a possible threat.”
“Say what now?” Jamie cocked his head to the side. Was he hearing this woman correctly?
He was an operative, but not that kind. Sure, he’d done a little covert work. Most Special Ops guys had. It came with the territory. But this sounded like it crossed lines he wasn’t sure he wanted to trample.
Zora set her hands on the top of her desk and pushed to her feet, staring him in the eyes. “I know how this sounds. We would not resort to these methods if there was another way.”
“Are we sure we haven’t thought of one? Asking another agency to bring her in?”
“That will take time we don’t have. I cannot stress to you how dire this situation is. We need Ms. Grissler’s cooperation yesterday but we can’t get it without miles of red tape. This is the most economical method at our disposal.” Once more she glanced at Logan. “It’s my understanding you have a way with women. All you need to do is get your hands on her phone and plug this device in for thirty seconds.”
Zora pulled a device out from her drawer. It was the size of his damn thumb nail. She set it next to the photograph.
Jamie couldn’t look away from the image of a smiling Tabby Grissler. Hair that red should be criminal. Her hazel eyes danced, even in the photograph and her smile invited you to laugh along with her. Even from the picture he could tell she was a smooth, polished woman, and yet she didn’t cover up the generous smattering of freckles across her nose.
“TL?” He kept staring at Tabby’s eyes.
Logan blew out a breath. From that sound alone it was clear to Jamie that Logan didn’t like this job any more than Jamie did.
“Boss told us to trust Zora. She’s telling us this is what needs to happen, then it needs to happen.” Logan turned from Jamie to Zora. “I’m trusting you until you give me a reason not to.”
“Thank you, Logan. I know we are trying your team’s patience. What we’re doing is important, I promise you.”
Jamie shut his eyes.
In the week that he’d been here, he’d turned down two dates and twice as many phone numbers. He was following the advice he’d been given, be single. This job would be a lot easier if he had a girlfriend he could fall back on, explain that he couldn’t do it. And yet, here they were.
“I imagine you have a plan?” He sank into the chair, no longer giving a damn if he was sweaty and gross.
“Tabby will be attending a fundraiser tonight.” Zora slid an envelope across to him. “We’ve secured you a seat at the same table as her.”
“What’s the fundraiser for?”
“Um.” She frowned and opened the envelope. “It doesn’t say.”
“I can’t exactly go to something and not know why I’m there.”
“I’ll make sure someone pulls the information.”
Jamie lifted his gaze and stared at the agent. “So, let me get this straight. You want me to go to a fancy function, do whatever it takes for this woman to let me have her phone for a minute all in the name of national security?”
Zora had the good sense to at least look apologetic.
When he’d accepted this job, he hadn’t expected this.
WEDNESDAY. FUNDRAISER, Washington, DC.
Tabby Grissler glanced at the empty seat next to her and sighed. Days like today were when she missed the presence of her best friend the most. They’d often made the charity circuit together. As executives of large companies, someone had to do it and if they had each other, well, they’d often made a night out of these things. But now Tabby’s best friend and partner in crime had a new life, a fiancé, a baby. Everything Tabby had always wanted.
She reached for her glass of water. It wouldn’t fill that void inside of her, but it would keep her from ordering something stronger. Without her best friend around Tabby didn’t enjoy these events as much. The less she drank, the earlier she would go home and get to video chat with her adorable goddaughter. Not that the baby did much besides sleep these days. Looking at that little human with its ten little fingers and ten little toes filled Tabby with equal parts joy and misery.
The sleepy baby was everything Tabby wanted. Men so often were a disappointment. They envied her money, her family connections, or maybe wanted bragging rights for having slept with her, anything except the future Tabby yearned for. She’d been groomed and raised to lead. If she were a man, it wouldn’t be a proble
m. But as a woman? She just wasn’t family material. She was too assertive, too successful, too much for the men she’d dated.
This just wasn’t her day. Her melancholy mood had no business being here. Maybe she needed to cut and run early?
It had started before she’d even gotten out of bed. In her not-quite-awake state she’d knocked her open water bottle off the nightstand, soaked her favorite leather sandals in the spilled water, put a foot through her panty hose, poked her eye with her liquid liner causing her to cry black tears and ruin what makeup she had applied, stained her teeth with her lipstick and she’d been out of coffee. The rest of the day had followed suit. It was probably a minor miracle she hadn’t ripped her dress or crashed her car.
“Evening,” a smooth, deep voice said just behind her.
Tabby glanced up at a man she’d never seen before as he pulled out the chair next to her. And damn if she didn’t appreciate the view. He had one of those faces that looked as though it had been carved from marble, all sharp lines, strong jaw. His skin was a warm brown that spoke of time in the sun and at least a touch of Latin genes. His hair was dark and luxurious, the kind she wanted to run her fingers through. And his eyes. God, even when they weren’t looking at her she could tell he had those piercing brown eyes. The kind that knew how to make her panties wet.
“Hello,” she said slowly.
On one hand, he was even more delectable up close. He smelled of something masculine, something she’d want to wake up to. On the other hand, that was her best friend’s seat.
In that moment Tabby could see the next few weeks of her life playing out. She’d tell herself to behave, but at some point she wouldn’t be able to help herself. They’d make small talk. She’d order wine. So long as he wasn’t a terrible human being she’d give him her number. Things would progress, she’d have butterflies for a week. If he was genuinely good, there might be a week or a month where she’d wonder how she’d been so lucky, was he the one, and just when she’d settled into being in a relationship, he’d dump her.
If she wanted a different kind of man in her life, the change had to start with her.
She mentally told her lady bits to stand down then leaned over to the man.
“Are you sure you have the right table?” she asked.
He glanced at her, brows lifted. Their gazes met and her stomach did that funny loopy thing where it felt as if she were on a rollercoaster.
Handsome wasn’t the right word, but it was the best her muddled brain could supply.
He looked away first, pulling out a ticket stub. “This is table nine, seat one, right?”
“Oh. You are correct, sorry. My misunderstanding.” Tabby let that information wash over her and felt another pang of loss.
Her bestie had left her family company to raise her baby out from under the oppressive umbrella they’d both grown up under. But Yvonne’s family company had continued to purchase the normal seat next to Tabby at all of the functions even if no one else went. Until tonight.
“This is some place.” He tipped his head back and took in the venue.
“Yeah, it’s a nice change from stuffy old rooms.” Tabby followed his gaze to the exposed brick, hanging lights, fabric swathing portions of the wall to create a backdrop for the slideshow of faces.
He twisted in his seat just enough to give her his full attention, and damn if she didn’t like it. “You come to these things often?”
Tabby chuckled.
He winced. “I just said that, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
He hung his head and chuckled.
A man who could laugh at himself? She dug that.
“I do come to these things often.” She lifted her shoulders. “I figure supporting causes is the least I can do.” Tabby had more complex thoughts about supporting charities, but she wasn’t going down that route with a total stranger.
His lips curved up into a warm smile. “Very admirable.”
“Says the man who paid five hundred for that seat.”
“Guilty.” He perched his elbow on the back of his chair.
There was something about him that was a breath of fresh air. He was untainted by politics. He didn’t strike her as the schmoozing type.
Who was he?
“Tabby.” She held out her hand.
His fingers wrapped around her palm, his hand enveloping hers in a firm, warm shake that sent tendrils of warmth throughout her body, chasing away those bad day blues.
“Javier.” His lips curved with the word, making it sensual.
“So, Javier, what do you do?”
“Well, right now I’d like to get us a drink. What will you be having?”
Him?
She knew his question was simple on the outside. It was just a drink with a good looking man. But on the inside it was a much deeper question. If she accepted this drink, she was staying. That meant leaving herself open to wanting something she might never have with this man, because under her corporate polish she was a hopeless romantic. It had taken her best friend finding the forever kind of love to wake Tabby up to that realization.
Javier held up his hands. “Is that question too hard? Should I have started with something easier?”
“No. Sorry, it’s been a very long day. A white wine would be lovely, thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He got up and strode toward the bar closer to the front of the room where the line was shortest. A tightness she hadn’t been aware of released her ribs and she sucked down a deep breath.
What the hell was she doing?
Tabby had no answer for herself. All she knew was that maybe tonight might have a better ending than its beginning.
She watched Javier from across the room. He was tall, somewhere over six feet. Despite his suit, there was a slightly rough around the edges quality that screamed ultra-bad boy, the kind that would burn a girl like her. There was no way a guy like him was into politics and he lacked the shark quality of a business man. So who was he? What was his story?
Javier tapped the bar then glanced around, not at anything in particular, just looking.
Military.
It was the way he carried himself, that muscular build. She could almost always spot it. Judging by the length of his hair, he wasn’t active. Retired? Something else? He was an enigma. Sexy, but a complete mystery.
She had a type, didn’t she?
Her last serious boyfriend had also been a Hispanic man, retired military turned private contractor. She’d thought he’d been different, that maybe she’d found the one. In the end, he just hadn’t felt the same way about her. It was one of the rare relationships she’d broken off because she’d known she was setting herself up for failure. Now here was Javier.
If she didn’t lie to herself, if she were honest, would it hurt?
He turned toward her, drinks in hand, and began walking back to her.
She didn’t have an answer by the time he reached the table and handed her the glass.
“Oh, I think I love you.” She swirled the liquid in the glass and smiled up at him. “Sorry, hope it isn’t too soon.”
His lips curled into a slight smile and her stomach did a little flip. Was that an I-have-a-sense-of-humor smile? Or a lecherous I-know-what-I-want-to-do-to-you smile?
“It’s a great start to a relationship.” He lifted his own glass and clinked it with hers.
Hello sense of humor.
Rawr.
“Tell me, how’d you end up here?” She gestured at the venue, guests slowly trickling in.
Javier gestured to himself. “I’m the son of immigrant women. What’s not to support?”
“Most men just write a check instead of coming to something like this.” She sipped her wine, watching him.
“I’m not that rich.” He held up his hand.
No inflated ego there. That was a change.
“What other charities do you grace with your presence?” He was turned toward her now, all tha
t focus aimed at her like a spotlight.
“That’s an odd question to lead with.” She tilted her head. Usually men came at her with something obvious.
“Is it?” He matched her head tilt.
Tabby had never made her contributions private, but she was also passionate about those charities she gave to from her own funds. In that moment, she realized how vulnerable that made her to a stranger. She was revealing her soft underbelly to a man she knew nothing about. “Personally, I try to make time and money for any charity that supports women and children. Professionally, our company gives to a number of organizations.”
“That’s admirable. I’d like to be more like that. You. I just...” He shrugged and glanced away, his face losing a bit of the light.
She reached over and touched his hand resting on the table. “You’re here now. And besides, sometimes what these organizations need isn’t more money. It’s people who believe in what they’re doing.”
Javier lifted his chin and met her gaze once more, only this time it was serious. He was truly wrestling with being a better person. Doing more.
How much of a better world would this be if there were more of him?
Whoever Javier was, he was one in a million, that much was clear to her. If Tabby was going to take another chance on a man, why not him?
“This conversation is getting far too serious for two people who have just met.” She lifted her glass. “When you’re in a funk, what do you do to feel better?”
“I play pool.”
“Pool?”
“Yeah. You play?”
“I have held a stick and hit a few balls but I would not say I have played.” She chuckled, more than ready to own up to her failings.
The sexy smile came back, warming his eyes. “Well I’ll have to show you how then.”
“Will you now?” She arched a brow at him. “What’s the craziest rule you’ve ever had to follow?”
“Wait. You don’t have to answer?”
“Oh. Sure. When I’m in a funk I either shop or convince my best friend to send me a video of her baby. And the craziest rule I ever had to follow... God there’s so many.” She tilted her head up.
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