Fuck.
I stashed my phone and sped-walked carefully the rest of the way up the block. I passed the bakery, but Chaz could get his own damn carbs. Then I rounded the corner and saw the car. A gleaming Bentley in a charcoal-ish shade of silver so sophisticated I didn’t even have a name for it. With rental plates.
A large man in a black suit and trench coat leaned on the car, just standing there, despite the drizzle of rain. The car was parked right in front of the agency, which meant it had been there a while; the best street spots were all parked up well before eight o’clock. I had to park blocks away myself.
I walked slowly past, eying the scene. I knew this scene. It often followed in Jesse and Katie’s wake. But this was no rock star security detail. Jesse’s security guys didn’t wear suits just to hang out on the sidewalk at nine a.m..
As I approached the agency door, the man’s head swiveled to watch me pass. It was an overcast day and he wore opaque black sunglasses. Super subtle.
I walked into the agency office, and something felt… different… as I stepped in the door. No, not just different.Wrong.
I could sense it in the air.
Actually, I could smell it.
Man.
A man who didn’t belong here. A well-groomed, well-dressed, virile, powerful man. I sucked back the heady scents of obscenely expensive cologne, fine leather, luxury fabrics and confidence.
God, why did that smell so good?
Because it’s all your favorite things.
His scent had changed a little since high school, and it disturbed me, deeply, that my lady parts noticed it. Back then, the unique scent of Dane Davenport was tinged with teenage sweat and lust, crisp new denim and chewing gum, and a certaineau de hockey playerthat punched a girl in the hormones. Especially when he’d just come off the ice after a game, all sweaty, with that crisp ice rink smell on him… and his skin all dripping wet…
Damn, that drifted sideways fast.
Focus.
I took a few steps into the reception area, cautiously, looking across at the window to Janelle’s office—like a rabbit checking the field for a fox—but I couldn’t see him. Why was I hesitating? I worked here. His family might own the agency, technically, but his ass worked in Toronto.
I drew my shoulders back, tried not to breathe through my nose, and strode over to Suri’s desk. And there he was. I could see him through the window now, standing over Janelle’s desk.
Dane Goddamn Davenport.
The lights were on and he was in there alone. A large man with linebacker’s shoulders and an air of perpetual doom. Strangely familiar, his shape and his presence, when I hadn’t seen him in years. More built than he was in high school. Way more accomplished. And even more entitled and full of himself, judging by our brief conversation yesterday. But still, the same guy.
I knew how to deal with this.Ifhe wasn’t my employer.
Now, I wasn’t so sure.
I glanced at Suri. She was seated at her desk, frozen, like she was afraid to make any sudden movements. He wasn’t looking this way, though. I tried to mentally telegraphHe’s not looking, move slowly.
She turned slowly in her chair to face me, a sympathetic/scared look on her face. “What the hell,” she whispered.
“I know,” I whispered back.
It was crypt silent in here. Where the hell was everyone? Cowering in their offices?
He’d better not have shit on all the staff when he slithered in here this morning. Or worse…firedthem.
No. Chaz just texted me.
They were hiding, for sure.
I glanced up as a door up the hallway quietly opened. Chaz materialized and sidled up next to me. “That’s the gentleman from corporate,” he whispered.
“I see that,” I whispered back.
