“He wants a job.”
My head snaps in his direction. “Excuse me?”
I must have heard him wrong.
Owen laughs a bit awkwardly. “He wants me to hire him.”
“As an assassin?”
Owen shakes his head, laughing in earnest now. “No. That’s the craziest part. He wants a real job.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I simply stare at him.
“I told him I’d think about it.” Owen seems almost embarrassed.
I blink a couple of times. “You’re seriously considering it?”
Owen shrugs. “Isn’t there that saying about keeping your friends close and enemies closer?”
I blink again. Maybe I’m in shock.
Owen laughs. “That wasn’t all he said, though. He told me he has information I might need, and if I give him a real job, he’ll reveal the information and do his best to help me.”
“Why would he help you?”
“I asked him that, and he said because he only likes to work for people he knows will win.”
I scoff. “That bastard likes to speak in riddles. I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t either, but I’d rather have him as an ally than an enemy, and he seems to know information that may help me get out of this mess.”
“You going to hire him in my place?” I ask, mostly joking.
Owen’s face falls.
“Did you forget you fired me?” I keep my tone light, but the question is sincere.
Owen looks away from me and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t forget. I’m just not sure about anything anymore.”
My heart skips a beat, and I sit up, aware I still don’t have any clothes on. I know Owen is listening to me, but his eyes wander to my bare chest.
“How do you know Peyton won’t get on the payroll, steal all your secrets, put a bullet through your head, and then sell your secrets to the highest bidder?”
Owen’s eyes widen. “I don’t have any secrets.”
I cock my head to the side and smile. “Bullshit.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up, and his eyes sweep my body again, sending an involuntary shiver through me.
“Will you focus, please?” I ask him.
“A little hard when you have no clothes on.”
“Fine.” I stand up and cross the room, opening a drawer full of shirts. I grab one that is big enough to fall halfway down my thighs. “That better?”
Owen pouts like I ruined his day, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I pointedly glare at his still naked body, but he ignores me completely.
“You seem to trust Peyton,” I say, taking hesitant steps back toward the bed. I’m not sure if it’s a question or if I need confirmation.
