“Just a water, please.”
“That’s it? No giant, sloppy burger?” Ms. True asked, blinking rapidly.
“That’s it,” I said, glancing between them.
Race shrugged and waited for the bartender to reach the far end of the bar before she started to speak. “I thought I’d buy you lunch while we talked.”
“I’d rather keep this strictly professional, Ms. True.”
Lie number three.
I did want to be professional, but sitting here and staring at her had my mind going a million different ways, and most of them were sexual.
Fuck.I needed to get laid or everything could derail in a hurry. Why couldn’t she have been unattractive? As I watched her, I wanted to know if she was as difficult to please in bed as she was at having a simple meal. I wondered if she screamed when she was fucked or what her hair looked like when her bun was taken down.
Race had pouty red lips, the whitest teeth I’d ever seen on a human being other than movie stars, and eyes the shade of emeralds. She was average size, with fabulous tits that peeked out from the neckline of her blouse and drew my attention. The pencil skirt accentuated her hips and made her legs seem a mile long.
“So, Morgan. Tell me a little bit about your background before I tell you about my problem. I want to know that you’re the right man for the job.” She sipped her wine, keeping her green eyes pinned on me.
It wasn’t going to be easy to keep my thoughts from straying from the purpose of the meeting. Hopefully, our contact would be minimal and mainly over the phone so I wouldn’t have to risk a slap in the face from gawking at her tits.
“I recently left the army after serving eight years. I worked the last four years gathering intel for the troops on the battlefield.”
“Oh,” she interrupted, placing the glass on the bar and resting her hand near mine. “That’s impressive.”
“Not really, ma’am.”
She stiffened and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Sorry. It’s a military thing. Everyone is a ma’am or a sir. It has nothing to do with me thinking you’re anything like your grandmother, but I’m sure she’s a lovely woman.”
“She’s a conniving hag. I’m nothing like her.”
It was my turn to say, “Oh.”
“Continue,” she demanded as she grabbed her glass again, averting her eyes.
“I became a civilian again about a month ago.”
“What makes Mr. Gallo so sure you’re the right man for the job?” she questioned, eyeing me with speculation.
I turned to face her, resting my arm on the bar. I didn’t like that I had to defend my qualifications to her. “Listen, Ms. True. If you’re not comfortable with me working your case, I can ask for someone else to be assigned to you. Right now, we don’t have the manpower for another investigator to take over right away. If you’re willing to wait, I’m sure we can find you a more suitable replacement. Someone more to your…liking. But no one will work as hard as I will.”
“No!” she said, her voice louder than before. “I just need to have someone work on this case who knows their shit. I can’t have some hack trying to clear my good name and fuck shit up.” Her jaw clenched as she pinned me with her stare.
My dick twitched—honest to God, moved inside my pants from her filthy mouth.
“As long as you can promise me that you have the skills I need to find out who’s behind this, then you’re my guy,” she said as she placed her hand on my arm.
I smirked, feeling a bit playful. “I have the skills you desire.” I glanced down, feeling the coolness of her touch on my warm skin. “I’m your man. I have more training in intelligence gathering than anyone else in my office. I was trained by the best the military had to offer. I have no doubt I’ll find the perpetrator.”
She nodded, brushing her fingertips across my skin before removing her hand slowly. “Fine. I’m sorry if I came off bitchy there for a moment. I know you’re new. You weren’t there when I went to the office to seek help. I just want to make sure I don’t have the newbie who’s learning on the job.”
“Why don’t you tell me about what’s going on? Your file lacked anything to help me start identifying my plan of attack. I promise you this, Ms. True: I’ll give your case my full attention and the utmost privacy.”
She glanced around the bar, checking our surroundings. “The messages started about a year ago. First they were just strange. You know, the type you delete and forget about.” She waved her hands in the air near her shoulder. “But then,” she whispered as her eyes grew large, “then the person started mentioning personal stuff that only someone I knew would know.”
“Like what type of details?”
