Busting In (Busted Series Book 1)

by Vanessa M. Knight

  “What else did you see?”

  “Not much.” Which was true. It was like that game you played as a kid to see how many things you could remember. He was never very good at remembering minutia.

  “Good.”

  “Jessi,” a barista called, placing three cups on the counter.

  “Got to go.” She readjusted her bag and grabbed a coffee tray.

  He looked over her order. “Which one is yours?”

  “Oh, shit.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry. I just realized I forgot to get myself anything.” She looked at her phone and sighed. “I don’t have time.” She picked up the tray and ran out the door.

  Enzo watched her leave. Microburst was too small. She was a full-out tornado. And her name was Jessi, or at least that was the name she’d given for the drinks. He should have run out and gotten her real name. Maybe even her number.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. Probably the admin wanting that status. He had work to do. He turned to the counter, and saw a coffee and bag clearly marked with his name. How long had his order been there? He had no idea.

  This was what happened when he wasn’t focused. He lost time standing around waiting for a coffee that was already done. This was why he didn’t have time for women with golden brown eyes and large purses. He was building a career, and he had the mayor’s party to get ready for.

  So, not getting her phone number wasn’t such a bad idea. He didn’t have to see her again. Too bad he couldn’t turn off the part that was disappointed by that thought.

  Two

  “Thank goodness. You are a goddess.” Maggie didn’t even let Jessi get in the back door before she reached for her coffee. And Jessi wanted to get in the door. Her purse was heavy. The drink holder was heavy. And the realization that she wasn’t getting any coffee was adding a few more pounds to everything in her arms. She was sure of it.

  Maggie pulled out her drink and the holder shook. Jessi reached out her hand to steady it as two more hands took cups with thank yous and praise. Then the holder was empty. Empty before she’d gotten both feet in the door. Literally. One foot was still on the other side of threshold.

  Maggie took a deep pull from the cup. “Stakeout time. You coming with, Leti?”

  “Yes, get me out of here.” Leti tossed her reading glasses on the desk and grabbed her purse.

  “I have my cell phone if you need me and Danni will be upstairs in her lair if there are any problems.” Maggie snagged her purse and walked out the back door.

  The room was quiet as Danni drank down her coffee like it was the last drink she’d ever get. “I’m heading upstairs to work on some code. If you need anything, holler.” Her slipper-clad feet shuffled to the back of the room and she climbed up the stairs.

  Then it was all quiet, the only sound the ticking of the heater as it turned on. Jessi walked to the front desk and started her music. She had a couple hours. If she was lucky, the demon phone would stay quiet and she’d get a few minutes to just listen to her music and start her Abnormal Psychology paper. Just a relaxing afternoon with depression and anxiety disorders.

  That would be a nice way to end a somewhat crappy day. She’d hung up on most of the clientele at her new job, forgot her own coffee, and was the entertainment at the cafe. Or maybe not to the whole Café Colao, but at least for that ridiculously good-looking man. Of course he noticed her klutzy moment.

  When her feet didn’t stumble over one another, no one was around. But as soon as her shoes couldn’t keep her upright, a gorgeous guy was there to watch. And he was gorgeous. Tall. Very tall. And dark eyes. Dark brown hair. He wore a suit like it was made just for him—and it probably was. He looked like the type of guy who’d have people on staff to cater to his whims.

  Not her type. She didn’t like guys who couldn’t take care of themselves. Sighing, she opened her Abnormal Psych text. Which dysfunction should she start with?

  The front door flew open. Before Jessi could focus on the fact that Maggie told her they rarely got walk-ins, her mother strode in the door.

  “Mom.” Jessi stood up from behind the desk. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  “You didn’t tell me what time you were coming home.” Her mother’s hair was pulled tight behind her head in a bun. Her ankle-length Bohemian floral dress swished as her long legs ate up the distance across the room. Her mom was shorter than the moms at Jessi’s school, but taller than the other moms at church. It was an analogy for Jessi’s life. Too Chinese for school and not Chinese enough for church. It was just easier to be herself.

  Her mom had embraced that philosophy; it was how she lived life. It was also the reason her husband had disappeared. Why keep a husband who won’t let you be yourself? Now, if her mother could just back off Jessi…

  Her mother wrapped an arm around her before resting a hand on Jessi’s stomach.

  Every freaking time. Her mother would never back off. “Mom, I’m not pregnant. It’s been over a year.” One pregnancy test, and she was suddenly a Pez dispenser about to pop one out.

  “Just checking.”

  “Why are you here?” Jessi pulled her mother’s hand from her stomach.

  “I wasn’t sure if you remembered that I’m not going to be home for dinner tonight. I’m getting the decorations together for Qingming Jie.”

  Ancestor’s Day. Her mother had been harping on Jessi to get involved. She’d already volunteered to work with the children to make kites, and ordered the dumplings. Wasn’t that enough?

  “You could do so much more,” her mother said.

  Apparently not. “I’m working. Why did you come all the way down here? You could call.”

  Her mother scanned the office like she was doing a real life Where’s Waldo, except she was probably looking for bongs and meth. She might be a self-declared old soul, an artist with Boho tendencies, but she was against drugs. Which was ironic since most of her friends were, at a minimum, potheads. Maybe that was why she saw the dangers of drugs everywhere her daughter went. It might also have to do with her newfound calling as a life-coach. “I finished with my last client and I wanted to see your new job.”

  “Well, this is it.” Jessi waved at the office, before her ears registered the music coming from her computer. Maybe her mother wouldn’t notice it.

  “So they like the angry music, too?” No such luck. Great.

  Jessi stopped Nine Inch Nails from singing about how they would make her hurt. They might be a little angry. “I thought you always said I should follow my own path. Doesn’t that mean listening to what I like?”

  “Yes. But they are so angry. They make you angry. How can you find peace in your life with so much anger in your ears?”

  The difference was that Jessi didn’t hear anger. She heard strength. And her mother would never understand that.

  Jessi dragged up a smile. “Well, now you’ve seen my job. You should go so I can get back to it.” It being her music, her homework, and the awful demon phone. Hopefully the thing wouldn’t ring while Mom was here. She didn’t need her mom watching the shit-show that was her transferring style.

  “Okay.” Mom nodded, but her eyes were locked on the Christmas tree. At least this one was fake. Her mom was all about the peace and love of Christmas, but killing trees for the holiday was one thing she couldn’t seem to get behind.

  Jessi braced herself for the lecture just as the door jingled open. Thank goodness for small favors. “I’ll be right with…” Him. Gorgeous guy from the coffee shop. Of course. Why wouldn’t he be here now? There were two hundred and thirty-four square miles in the city of Chicago and over eighty thousand seconds in a day, so naturally gorgeous coffee shop guy and her mother would pick the exact same moment to show up at the exact same place.

  Maybe he won’t remember her.

  His body took up the entire doorway. Just his presence sucked up all the oxygen in the room. He just stared. There was no way he didn’t remember. Awesome.

  How had he f
ound her? Stalk much?

  “Mom.” Jessi rested a hand on her mother’s back. “Don’t you have a class tonight? You don’t want to be late.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.” Mom treated gorgeous guy to an up-and-down glare. “Early.”

  “Okay. See you soon.” Jessi pushed her mom out the door and faced her coffee stalker. “What are you doing here?”

  “So you’re the new girl.”

  “Girl? Do I look ten?”

  “Fine. You’re the new woman who has hung up on me all day.”

  Shiiiit. The blood drained from her face right down to her toes. Her feet were heavy and her head felt light. It was one thing to hang up on nameless, faceless people all day. But facing one of her victims was a whole other thing.

  “By the look you’re giving me, you probably recognize my voice.” The smirk on his face didn’t give anything away. Was he laughing at her? Angry? Incredulous that a grown woman couldn’t figure out a phone? He could be feeling any of those things.

  And all Jessi could feel was her mother’s handprint on her stomach. Every day. If she had her own place, her stomach would be safe from the belly-fondling. But she’d never get her own place if she lost this job. “I’m really sorry.” The feeling returned to Jessi’s toes, making her want to run. Run fast. Run far. But the look in his eyes kept her in place.

  He smiled. All gorgeous white teeth and full pink lips. And that smile lit up his eyes. He was having fun. At her expense.

  And somehow, she didn’t mind. She did recognize his voice. The sexy deep voice she’d wanted to listen to over and over. And she had, since he’d kept calling after she hung up on him for most of today. Not that it was on purpose, but still, he deserved to be angry. He deserved a chance to yell. Yet there he stood, with a goofy grin on his face.

  The goofy grin didn’t make him any less hot. Dark brown eyes. Dark brown hair. His skin was golden. Mix all that with those lips and he was more beautiful than before. If that was even possible. “It’s okay. I needed to take a ride out here anyway.”

  “Oh, good.” She twirled her hair around her fingers.

  “I’m Enzo.” He held out his hand and waited.

  She reached out. Palm to palm contact. Oh my. Warmth spread from his hand to hers. Her insides turned all mushy. “Jessi.” Ugh. She didn’t do mushy.

  She thought about pulling her hand away, but his grip felt so nice. With just this one touch, she swore she was glowing from the inside out. And that was one touch. Her lady parts squirmed just thinking what he could do with lots of touches.

  That line of thinking was so not helpful. She couldn’t jump the clients on her first day at a new job. There was a whole professionalism thing. Right? Don’t sleep with the hand that feeds you—or the hand that pays the hand that feeds you. Something like that.

  She finally pulled her hand away and walked back to her desk. “Ummm… Can I get you anything?”

  “Just Maggie.” He sat in the chair in front of her desk. “I need her help tonight.”

  “Oh.” Jessi hated to be the one to say this, but since she was the only one here—wait. She wasn’t the only one. “Danni’s here. Maybe she can help.”

  “It’s not computer work I need.”

  Of course he needed Maggie. She wasn’t here. “I can call her. She’s on a stakeout.” Jessi picked up the phone and started to dial.

  “No. I don’t want to pull her away from anything. I was hoping to catch her before she left.” Like when he’d called the numerous times during the day. Not that he actually said that, but she knew.

  This was her fault, so she needed to fix it. “Are you sure Danni can’t help?”

  “No, I need someone to…” His frown turned right side up, and she swore a lightbulb went off above his head. “What are you doing tonight?”

  Drinking. Crying. Praying that her second day of work went better than the first. Checking the want ads. “Nothing.”

  “How would you like to help me out?” He leaned back in the chair and rested his right ankle across his knee. “I have a party I need to go to tonight. I need someone to go with me.”

  A date? Maggie hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend, but it’s not like the two of them had sat around braiding each other’s hair and talking boys. She could see the attraction. Maggie was long-legged and blonde. Enzo was an Italian god. Either way, she wasn’t about to lose her job because she took her boss’s boyfriend for a joyride. “Maybe I should call Maggie.”

  “Why?” He looked confused. Like Maggie wouldn’t want to know that her boyfriend was asking out another woman. Creep.

  “If you’re dating—”

  He laughed. “We’re not dating. She just helps me with these types of situations when I need her expertise.”

  “What type of expertise?” Was this some kind of girlfriend experience thing? Or more? “I don’t think I can help you with that.”

  “I’m not sure what’s going through your mind, but from the look on your face, I think you have the wrong idea.” He stood up from the chair, all bravado gone. He truly looked upset. Although, to be fair, there was no way this Italian god needed to hire his girlfriends by the hour. “I need someone to go with me to the mayor’s party so I don’t look suspicious.”

  “Why would you look suspicious?” This conversation with him just kept getting weirder and weirder.

  “I need to grab something while I’m there, and it doesn’t exactly belong to me.”

  “Something that doesn’t belong to you. Can’t you just ask for it?”

  “I need something that proves the witness against my client gave the mayor donations for the express purpose of getting himself out of trouble. It discredits a witness. I need that information, but—” Enzo shook his head and stepped away from the chair. “I can tell you’re busy. I’m really sorry to bother you.”

  He would have had Maggie to help him if Jessi had just transferred his call correctly once. Just once. It was her fault he didn’t have a party-beard. So she should fix it.

  Not because he was silly-hot. But that didn’t hurt. And not because he looked so sad, the sparkle in his gorgeous eyes dimmed to nothing. It was because it was the right thing to do.

  “Wait, Enzo.” This was such a bad idea—she had no clue what to expect and he was gorgeous and he worked with her boss and her body wanted to do bad things with his body. The whole thing was a disaster waiting to happen. Don’t think. “If you need me to go with you to the party, I can.”

  He turned around and smiled. “Are you sure?”

  “I have nothing going on tonight, so why not?” She closed her textbook. She didn’t want to get anything done tonight anyway.

  “Are you in school?” He looked concerned. He probably hadn’t seen the inside of a classroom in years. “How old are you?”

  “Yes, I’m in college. I’m twenty-six. Is that a problem?”

  “What are you getting your Masters in?”

  Masters. Funny. She was on the ten-year-program for her undergraduate. “Bachelors in Psychology.”

  He must have liked that answer because his smile grew. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Text me your address.” He pulled out his phone and held it out.

  She typed in her name and phone number. “How about you just pick me up here?” One run in with her mother was enough. There was no way Jessi wanted to chance a second.

  “I’ll see you at seven.” He pushed the front door open and angled back, that smile still on his face. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  And then he was gone. The air in the room whooshed around without him taking up the space, and she was finally able to breathe. She hadn’t realized how much oxygen had been sapped from her body until it rolled back in waves.

  She had a date. Well, not a date. A party-beard that covered up espionage and spying. Two things that would make up for dealing with the nightmare telephone system all day.

  He was looking forward to tonight. Well, for her that didn’t really cover it, she was straight-up e
xcited. And if that didn’t scream mistake, she didn’t know what did.

  Enzo tugged at his bright blue dress shirt as he jogged up to the front door of Busted. He was nervous. He could admit it. It had been a while since he’d been on a date—not that this was date. They were merely playing a part. Going in. Getting the information. And getting out.

  End of story.

  He knocked on the glass door and looked inside the office. The lights were off. The space was still. He put his hand to the glass and tried to see to the back room. No lights there either.

  Maybe she had left. She’d said she’d help him out, but maybe she changed her mind. Given the look of pure disgust when she thought he was dating Maggie and then when she obviously thought he was asking her out as some kind of escort, no wonder she ran.

  He probably scared the crap out of her. Dammit. No wonder he was single. He didn’t know how to behave. Stepping away from the building, he looked up to the second floor. Light streamed from a crack in the blinds. Someone was upstairs.

  He could almost hear music coming from the space. He just needed to be louder. Hitting the frame of the door with the side of his fist, he closed his eyes and listened.

  A click at the door was all the warning he got. The door swung open and her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked out. Walked out? More like glided. Tall high-heeled boots rose to the top of her calf, then pale fawn thighs disappeared beneath the black dress swishing several inches above her knees. The skin between her boot and the bottom of that skirt was a Sarah McLaughlin song. Soft, bare skin begging to be touched—pleading for his help while somewhere puppies gave sad eyes.

  The dress cinched at her narrow hips and covered her meager but absolutely perfect chest. A leather jacket hid that perfect chest. He wanted to say words, but he couldn’t think of the best ones to say. He didn’t think, your boob looks to be the perfect size to fit in my mouth, let’s test that theory, would go over very well. Even if it was a huge turn-on, and he meant it as the highest compliment.