Do what? Lucky growled. “Agents are required to type their own reports.” Because if they didn’t, he’d have Lisa work on all of his.
The department’s resident jerk turned a sneer on Lucky. “She’s helping me work through a backlog. When you handle as many cases as I do—”
“Blow as many cases as you do, don’t you mean?”
Lisa shoved a manila folder between Lucky and Keith’s ever-closening noses. “As promised.” She sat back, wringing her hands.
Keith brandished his folder and stalked off without so much as a word of thanks.
“Thank you,” Lisa whispered.
Lucky kept watch until Keith vanished around a corner. “For what?”
“For sticking up for me. I get so tired of doing his work for him, but what can I do? He’s a senior agent, and I’m only a receptionist.”
She didn’t need to know Lucky defended her by accident while trying to get a rise out of his mortal enemy. “Anytime. He gets you to do all his reports?”
Lisa’s sigh sent her bangs flying. “Yes. For some reason, he considers me his personal assistant.”
If the SNB started handing out personal assistants, they’d better give Lucky one first. Only, who in their right mind would want to work for him? He barely registered approaching footsteps.
“Is there a problem?” Bo gave Lisa concerned eyes, and narrowed those eyes Lucky’s way.
“Oh hi, Bo!” Lisa’s attitude suddenly changed from gloom and doom to sunny. “Lucky here was saving me from doing Keith’s job.”
Bo’s wide-eyed disbelief might be worth a hit to Lucky’s asshole character. He looked from Lisa to Lucky and back again in a quick whiplash. “You’re doing his work?”
Lisa nodded. “For the last year.”
“And Lucky told him off?” Bo arched a brow in Lucky’s direction.
Nobody did smug like Lucky. “Sure did.”
A furrow appeared between Bo’s eyebrows. “Is your counselor giving you meds?”
“Hey! I resent that. Why’s it so hard to believe I done a good thing?” Ha! Let Mr. Politically Correct answer without putting his foot in his mouth.
“It’s not. You do good all the time. You just won’t admit it in public.”
Oh, fuck. Lucky better get a grip before he ruined his hard-earned asshole reputation all on his own.
Bo brightened and slapped Lucky on the back. “Good job. You seem to have this under control. Lisa, why don’t you tell Walter about Keith?”
“Keith’s a senior agent. I’m entry level.” The receptionist who took way too much shit off a major asswipe swung her chair back and forth.
“Doesn’t give him the right to dump work on you. If it happens again, I want you to let me know.” A world of hurt for Keith flashed in Bo’s eyes.
Lisa darted a glance from Bo to Lucky and back again. “Okay. But I don’t want to start any trouble.”
No way Lucky couldn’t add his opinion. “Someone told me ‘don’t start nothing and there won’t be nothing.’ Keith started it.” How many times had Lucky spoken those three words over the years?
“If you’re sure.” She stopped biting her bottom lip long enough to smile. “Thanks, guys.”
“Anytime.” Bo strolled down the hall, clutching his gym bag, pausing to take a barely perceptible glance over his shoulder.
Lucky followed, grin widening with each step. Nothing worked better than showing up an enemy while impressing a lover to renew a man’s strength.
***
