“LOAs?” Dax asks.
“Letters of Agreement.” I look from Ford to Dax as they both cock their heads. “Contracts. The insurance companies will offer their customers discounts on their policies if they install Alfie devices in their homes. Our next phase of development will include a car unit that can monitor a customer’s driving and give them a discount on their insurance if they practice safe habits like always using their turn signals, and avoid actions like stopping short or exceeding the speed limit on residential streets.
Ford whistles. “Sounds a bit…invasive.”
Setting my mug down with a little more force than necessary, I ease back in my chair. “How much of your life is accessible online, Mr. Lawton? If you had to guess. What could I find out with a little searching on the dark web?”
“I don’t know. My name, address, phone number, and birthday? My military commendations?”
“Try your social security number, high school GPA, a copy of your birth certificate, all the plane tickets you’ve ever purchased, parking violations, credit score, and the results of your latest blood work.”
Ford sputters, almost shooting coffee out his nose, and pulls a pressed, white handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing at his lips.
Dax chuckles. “Man. Wren’s going to have a field day when I tell her how much of a luddite you are.” He takes another sip of his coffee, then touches the saucer with his free hand before he sets the cup down. “I gave up on privacy a long time ago, Evianna. Not much choice in the matter.” A roughness edges his tone, but in the next breath, he shakes his head and almost smiles. “We can offer you protection. One of our junior guys positioned outside your house at night, Ford or Trevor to accompany you to and from the office. And we’ll look into this Kyle—what did you say his last name was?”
“Devlin.” The hard knot in the pit of my stomach eases slightly, though I hate the idea of having a babysitter. Even if Ford is kind of handsome. “How much is this going to run me? And…in these cases, how long do people usually need…protection?”
“We don’t come cheap,” Dax says. “A deposit of five thousand will cover you for approximately ten days. That includes the nightly protection from 8:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m., escorts to and from your office twice a day, and a thorough background check on Mr. Devlin.”
Ford rests his elbows on the table, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “And once we get a better sense of Devlin, we might be able to strongly suggest he leave you alone.”
“You mean…”
“Yes.” The weight of Dax’s reply hits me hard, and I stare at him, forgetting my manners. There’s something mesmerizing about him. His eyes are unbelievably pale—or maybe that’s just an odd effect from the tinted glasses—shiny, rough scars cover the tops of his cheeks, and a lock of black hair falls over his forehead. I want to brush it away.
“Evianna?”
Get a grip, Evianna. Stop staring.
“My apologies, Mr. Holloway—”
“Dax.”
My cheeks flame. Not only is Dax staring at me, but now Ford’s gaze hardens. Unsurprising since I’m ogling his boss. “I-I’m sorry, Dax. This isn’t…anything I ever thought I’d have to do. I’m a computer geek at heart. I like my quiet office, my quiet house, and until this past week, I thought I was safe both places.”
A sympathetic smile tugs at Dax’s lips. “You’ll be safe from now on. That we can promise you. Do you know what a burner phone is?”
Scoffing, I give him a look that could probably break glass.
“That’s a yes, then,” Ford says with a chuckle.
For a split second, confusion slides across Dax’s face, but one breath, and it’s gone. “Good. Get one. All communications with Second Sight should occur using that phone. Normally, we don’t go to those lengths, but since this Kyle is a programmer, and you say he’s highly skilled, extra precautions aren’t a bad idea. Ford will be your liaison with the rest of the team. How often you communicate, and the level of protection you want from him—whether he stays hidden or is out in the open, that sort of thing—is between the two of you. However, here’s my card should you need it.”
He pulls a black business card from his pocket, and as our fingers brush, a burst of warmth settles in my core, and I smile at him. His expression doesn’t change at all, and frustration edges my tone when I turn to Ford. “Thank you. I have to get back to the office for a meeting. When…uh, when do we start?”
Ford glances at his watch. “I’ll have Clive follow you back to your office and home tonight. I have a few things to clear off my schedule, and Trevor’s wrapping up another case this afternoon. Can you pick up a burner phone on the way back?”
“There’s a drug store on the corner.”
“Good. Text me the number when you get it. And try not to worry, Evianna.”
I laugh for the first time in what feels like a week. “That’s like telling a chocolate chip cookie not to taste good.” The release of tension in my shoulders is so palpable, it feels almost like something snaps inside me.
As I stand, the two men rise, and I hold out my hand to Dax, wondering what the hell is up with his stone-faced expression. His hand hovers three inches from mine. Some stupid power move? Jerk. But my mother didn’t raise me to be rude, so I grip his fingers tightly enough his brows shoot up, highlighting the odd scars on his cheeks and forehead.
“Is something wrong, Evianna?” he asks.
“Nothing. Good day, Mr. Holloway.” Turning, I smile, and Ford inclines his head as we shake hands. “It was lovely to meet you, Ford. I’ll text you with the burner phone number in an hour or so.”
