Any second now.
Almost exactly as I wasthinking it, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was enough to startle me intofumbling it as I took it out, the stupid thing slipping out of my fingers andunder the desk. Who the hell decided phones should beslippery, anyway?All a glass back did was show fingerprints and make the damned things harder tohold onto than a bar of soap under a waterfall.
I got down on my hands andknees, grabbed my phone, and then banged my head on the desk as I was trying tocrawl out from under it.Son of a…
Climbing back up into mychair, I gingerly poked at the back of my head to check for blood while lookingat my phone. The number wasn’t one I recognized, so it was either atelemarketer—which would have completed my humiliation nicely—or a client.
As I swiped to accept thecall, I really,reallyhoped I hadn’t just risked a concussionfor someone trying to sell me a timeshare.
“Hello?” I asked, rubbingthe back of my head and completely forgetting to answerGuardian AngelsSecurity, Gray speaking. I still hadn’t gotten used to that.Probably never would.
Thankfully, I wasn’t bleeding. Atrip to the ER wasn’t on my to-do list for the night, and if I called Doc andhad to explain myself, I’d never hear the end of it the next time I saw him.
“Grayson Ward?” the voice onthe other end of the phone asked. A woman, not young, but not old, either. Andlocal.
“Speaking,” I said, tryingto move my voice away from rough to reassuring, since I was starting to get myhopes up that thiswasa client, after all.
“I’m calling on behalf ofEmerson Medical Technology. Apologies for the late hour.”
Thatgot myattention. Emerson was a name I’d heard plenty before.
“No problem, ma’am,” Imanaged, still a little stunned from the blow to the head I’d just taken. “Whatcan I do for you?”
“My name is Amanda Billings,personal assistant to Miles Emerson. We understand you provide personalsecurity services?”
Miles. Huh. Second time I’d come acrosssomeone with that name in a week. Must’ve been a sign, or something.
“Sure do,” I responded, thenimmediately felt like an idiot.Sure do? What kind of professionalwas I?
“Are you taking on newclients?” Amanda asked.
Yes.
Okay Gray, don’t screw this up.
“As it happens, wedohave an openingright now,”I said, heart pounding in my chest. The break we needed.
“Mr. Emerson would like torequest you, specifically.”
A referral, then? That madea kind of sense. Obviously, they didn’t realize that I was the only real option,other than Fox—who was usually busy one way or another. Any bodyguarding workhe did was for regular clients, and they loved him. Hard as I’d tried toconvince some of my old army buddies to come in on this, Fox was the only onewho’d caved so far.
“I think that could bearranged.” I reached out to grab a notepad and pen, a wave of harriedprofessionalism washing over me as I held the phone up with my shoulder. “Whendoes Mr. Emerson need me?”
“Tomorrow morning will befine,” Amanda said, as though it was generous of her not to insist I come rightnow.
Honestly, Iwouldhave. We needed this client to keep the lights on. But no one else needed toknow that, definitely not the client.
“Great. Could I get a fewdetails on that?” I asked, pen ready.Look at me, mom. I’m a realpersonal security specialist.
“Around eleven o’clock wouldbe perfect. We have your email address, I’ll send the rest of the informationthrough. We’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Ward.”
“Oh, uh. Thanks. Yes. Brightand early,” I agreed, thrown for a loop by the idea of an email. I’dtemporarily been thrust into the fantasy of a noir movie when the phone rang,and forgotten they existed.
Amanda—who I suspected Ishould probably callMs Billingswhen I met her—hung up the phone beforeI could recover from the pace that call had gone at. I was used to gettingdetails. I wasusedto getting a client’s life story and maybe evena few tears while I gently promised them that everything was going to be okaynow that they had a professional to help them.
Hanging up the phone, I letthe pen fall onto the unused notepad. It rolled off, and I watched as it tippedover the edge of the desk and disappeared beneath it.
I wasnotfalling forthat again. This desk was out to get me.
