by Mia Dymond
“This is an interrogation room?” She took one end of the sofa and crossed her legs.
He nodded while he opened a drawer in the front of the table, retrieved two coasters, and slid them under the mugs. When he glanced up, her amused grin made him offer an explanation.
“Diesel is obsessed with structure,” he mumbled.
She leaned forward and lifted her mug. “This room is nice. When you mentioned interrogation, I expected four sterile walls, a chair, and a lightbulb.”
He laughed out loud and then quickly decided he needed clarification. “You are kidding, right?”
“Yes, about my description. It’s very comfortable in here.”
“We don’t use it for interrogation like you think. We only interrogate our own clients here. If they’re comfortable, information flows like a waterfall.”
“Tell me more about the company.”
“Diesel retired from the Navy two years ago and developed the business to provide security services. Ice and I followed.”
“The three of you knew each other previously?”
“Ice and I were members of Diesel’s SEAL team.”
She nodded and sipped her coffee.
“Diesel is a pilot and can fly anything with wings. Ice is a diver; he spends most of his time in the pool. My specialty is cyber intelligence.”
She lowered her mug to her lap. “Do the three of you always work as a team?”
“Always. We actually have a team of fifteen guys on staff.”
“Were they all SEALs?”
“Yes.”
“When I drove in, I noticed a few houses behind this building. Are those training facilities as well?”
He shook his head. “No, we live there.”
“All of you?”
“Anyone that chooses the option. We don’t all live together; Diesel offers the land and the soldier builds the house.”
“Is it difficult, living where you work?”
“No. Sometimes leaving the military can be challenging, even if done voluntarily. Living near your team can assist with transition.”
“Incredible,” she murmured.
“What about your business? How did you become a professional organizer?”
“Like Diesel, I prefer structure and order so I put my obsession and business degree to work. Luckily, Saving Grace has been successful.”
“Do you work alone?”
“Most of the time. I hire subcontractors to provide services I can’t tackle.”
“Think you can handle me alone?”
“Absolutely.” She lifted her cup, took another swallow, and then grasped the empty mug in one hand while she hung her bag on one shoulder with the other. “Thanks for the coffee. I’m sorry to rush off, but I really need to go.”
“You’re welcome.” He gestured at her bag with one finger. “Leave the cup on the table. I’ll carry your things to the car for you.”
“That’s really not necessary, I can get it.”
“That thing is huge,” he said around a grin, “and it’s probably heavier than you. Please, let me help.”
She slid the bag from her shoulder and handed it to him. Just as he suspected, she might as well have a ton of rocks inside.
“Geez, Grace, do you carry this every day?”
“Of course. Everything in there is vital to my job.”
He reached out to her and closed one hand around her left biceps. “Impressive.”
She giggled and the soft, sweet sound went straight to his groin. The interested beast between his legs stretched.
“Shall I keep you on my calendar for tomorrow?”
“Grace, you’re going to have to block off quite a bit of time.” He grasped her elbow and guided her out of the room. “It’s going to take at least a couple weeks to reform me.”
Grace drove out of the security gate while she ran strategy through her brain and her hormones danced the happy dance. Harvard definitely needed her professional services, but it would be a challenge to her professionalism to keep herself focused in the process. On the surface, the man was an Adonis, hard-bodied and very intoxicating to her libido. Yet underneath that tantalizing body, his incredible intelligence and down-to-earth attitude intrigued her. Was anyone really as easygoing as he? Granted, they’d only spent a short amount of time together, but professional insight told her there was a whole lot more to him than met the eye.
Harvard was easy to talk to, a discovery that had somewhat surprised her. Normally when a client resisted her services, she required a shovel to dig out information. She grinned. Harvard had been refreshingly forthcoming, even about his doubt that she might reform him. She was determined to try, she would just have to practice self-control to do it.
She steered her car into the parking lot of Juan’s Salty Margarita, left the vehicle, and then entered the restaurant. Maybe Bailey would have a suggestion. She rolled her eyes. Of course she would – her best friend always had advice on tap.
Bailey King was much more than her best friend. From the moment they met as five-year-old mischievous neighbors, they not only became fast friends, but sisters as well. Blessed with a free-spirit and loads of self-confidence, Bailey didn’t hesitate to confront life head-on, an attribute Grace admired, and one that made her friend a very successful travel agent. Her friend wasn’t intimidated by anything or anyone. Case in point, Bailey wouldn’t hesitate to give her a few suggestions – whether she wanted them or not.
Once Grace stepped inside her favorite Mexican restaurant, Bailey waved from a booth in the back.
“Hi,” she said as she slid into the booth, opposite the other woman. “Sorry I’m late.”
Her friend pointed at two margaritas on the table. “I ordered for us. What’s the deal? You’re never late.”
“Well, my appointment was a little different than I expected.”
“That sounds interesting.”
She smirked. Interesting? More like stimulating.
“Grace?” Bailey prompted. “It was interesting, right?”
“Extremely. Have you ever heard of a company called Watchdogs, Inc.?”
“No. Is it new?” Bailey nudged a basket of tortilla chips and a bowl of salsa toward her.
She shook her head as she dipped a chip into the salsa. “They’ve been in business for two years.”
“From the name, I’m assuming it’s some kind of security firm.”
“Any form of security.” She relayed the information Harvard gave her about the business. “The company is located several miles out of the city on a compound that resembles a military base.”
“Sounds hi-tech. What did they hire you to do?”
“Organize one of the members.”
“Female or male?”
“Male. All of the members are men.”
“I see.” Bailey lifted her glass, took a drink, and then returned it to the table. “That explains your rosy cheeks.”
“Yeah, well, Harvard is going to be a challenge.”
“Harvard?”
She nodded. “Nickname. His office is a disaster area.”
“Do you know his real name?”
“Paxton Gray.”
“It’s interesting that you not only know his name, you know his nickname, and you refer to him by that nickname.”
Grace frowned. “So?”
“So, you rarely call a client by his or her first name.”
“He insisted,” she mumbled.
“He hired you to clean up his office?”
“No, the owner hired me.”
Bailey giggled. “This just keeps getting better and better. Was he too totally resistant?”
“Actually, no. He was surprisingly open to working with me.”
“So you’re challenged because ….”
“Because he’s a walking advertisement for sex-on-a-stick.”
Bailey proceeded to choke on her margarita. Grace handed her several napkins and patiently waited until her friend stopped coughing.
“Like what?”
“Attracted to a client.”
Grace paused to lift her glass, take a long drink of liquid encouragement, and then issued a weak denial. “I didn’t say I was attracted to him.”
“You’ve noticed his attributes,” Bailey pointed out.
“Yes, but like I said, you can’t miss them.”
“Are you going to be able to work with him?”
“Absolutely.” As long as she kept her tongue from rolling out of her mouth. “It won’t take long anyway.”
Bailey moved her finger over the salt-covered rim of her glass. “You know Grace, maybe you should get to know this guy.”
“I’d like to, but I’m not so sure.”
“Why?”
“He’s a client, first of all.”
“So? Your line of work isn’t one that requires that kind of ethic, really. Yes, it would be awkward if it didn’t work out but you wouldn’t be violating any kind of contract or anything.”
“True,” she agreed,” but then there’s the real problem.”
“Real problem?”
“My inability to operate without a direct plan.”
“I don’t think he cares about that. He already knows what you do for a living so he’s got to be a little suspicious.”
“He’s very easygoing.”
“Opposites attract.” Bailey shrugged. “You need to give him a chance.”
She took another long drink before she attempted to redirect the conversation. “He has a team of fifteen men.”
“Nuh-uh. We’re talking about you.”
“Probably all just as good looking.”
“Nice try. Drink your margarita so I can order two more.”
She gladly finished the tangy beverage while Bailey signaled for the server. “We need a vacation.”
“Funny you should say that. I have an invitation for a complimentary week at White Sands Resort on Sea Gull Island.”
“Wow! It’s all inclusive, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m in.”
“Great! Check your calendar and let me know when you’d like to go.” Bailey lifted her glass, swallowed the contents, and then returned it to the table just as the server brought two fresh drinks. “My only requirement is that we fly.”
“Wouldn’t you rather take the ferry? It’s only a thirty-minute ride.”
“No. I’ll book the flights. I have frequent flyer miles to use anyway.”
“Won’t that take more time?”
“Yes.” Bailey shrugged. “It’s a vacation. Why not make the most of it?”
“Sounds good to me. I frankly don’t care as long as we get there.”
Bailey lifted her glass. “Then it’s settled. Here’s to beaches, relaxing vacations, and your scorching hot Navy SEAL.”
***
Sweat dampened his forehead as he squeezed the phone in his grip and prepared to offer the news he knew was unexpected. His nerves shook like Mexican jumping beans, rendering him edgy and paranoid. If this phone call didn’t go the way he planned, his life would take a drastic turn for the worse and although he had no one to blame but himself, he still held out hope that he might actually receive a reprieve.
“Did you acquire the piece?”
He cringed at the familiar voice on the other end of the line. “No. Your man and I scoured every inch of the place. It’s not there.”
“Perhaps she locked it in the safe.”
“No. I opened it. Nothing but paperwork.”
“Do you suppose someone beat us to the heist?”
“It’s possible.” He issued the admission reluctantly. “There are renovations in progress at the house.”
“Are you familiar with the contractor?”
“Quite. She provides services to a number of people in an elite circle.”
“The contractor is female?”
“Yes, Grace Portland is a professional organizer.”
“I believe I read an article about her recently.”
He attempted to voice his skepticism delicately. “She’s quite exclusive and bonded, as well. I highly doubt she would risk her reputation by stealing from a client.”
“The item is one-of-a-kind and worth more money than most people see in a lifetime. She could be easily persuaded.”
“Would you like me to arrange for another search?”
“No. We are wasting time by searching the premises. You will talk to the woman without drawing suspicion, of course.”
Panic seeped into his bones at the other man’s confidence. “I’m not sure I’m the appropriate person for that task. I have no idea how to proceed.”
“You have no choice in the matter. You will figure it out or the consequences will be quite undesirable.”
The call abruptly disconnected and doomed silence crept across the line. Not only did his unintended associate issue an almost impossible directive, the accompanied ultimatum wrapped him like a hungry python. He swallowed hard as he returned the phone to his jacket pocket and faced the reality of the situation. The order had been crystal clear and his life depended on following it.
CHAPTER TWO
The next day, Grace glanced at the roll of paper tucked into her bag on the seat next to her as she drove to meet Harvard, confident he would be happy with the plan for his office. The plans she’d sketched to show the reorganization of the room were fairly simple but perfectly-suited to his personality. In her interaction with him so far, she’d learned that Harvard was not only a play-it-by-ear kinda guy, but extremely methodical in this thinking at the same time. He had a unique talent for making a snap decision and then molding it into a successful plan in a matter of minutes.
She negotiated a sharp turn and then glanced into the rearview mirror out of habit, surprised to see a black, four-door sedan rapidly approaching. She pressed the accelerator harder in an effort to keep distance between them. Only, the other driver accelerated as well and gestured with a hand for her to pull over onto the shoulder.
Yeah, right. Single girl rule number one: Don’t pull over for a weirdo in a black car.
She glanced back out the windshield to assure that no one else occupied her lane and then increased her speed. A quick look into the mirror revealed that the crazed driver refused to be deterred and flashed his headlights. Now concerned more than annoyed, she gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands and lifted her foot from the gas pedal, hopeful he would take the hint to pass. However, as soon as her foot left the accelerator, the driver increased his speed and headed right for her bumper. With no other choice, she smashed the brakes with both feet, steered toward the shoulder, and braced herself for impact.
Grace brought the car to an abrupt stop while her whole body trembled and she heaved to pull oxygen across her lungs. Only then did she realize there had been no metal-on-metal noise. Had the other driver stopped?
Terror forced her to look out all four windows to assure she was alone. Once she determined that to be true, she quickly gathered her wits. The engine continued to purr, she hadn’t collided with another vehicle or anything else for that matter, and all of her body parts appeared intact.
She took several breaths to steady her nerves and then steered back onto the highway. With a calmness she certainly didn’t feel, she pressed the Bluetooth link on the steering wheel.
“Call Bailey.”
Her friend answered on the second ring. “Hi, Gracie.”
“Hi.” Bailey’s use of her nickname brought tears to her eyes.
“Grace? You sound funny.”
“I just had a near accident on the way to Watchdogs, Inc.”
“What happened?”
Anger chased away the tears. “Some jerk forced me off the road.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, just tense.”
“Do you need
me to come there?”
“No, I just needed to hear a calming voice. Thanks, anyway. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I can be there in no time.”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not far from the compound. I’ll let you know as soon as I get there.”
“Okay, but if I don’t hear from you in the next few minutes, I’m coming after you.”
“I’ll text, I promise.”
Now a little more relaxed, Grace disconnected the call and continued the trip to her destination. Idiot driver. Other than a bad case of road rage, he really had no reason to threaten her. Theirs had been the only two vehicles on the highway and if he had simply pulled around her, he could’ve left her quickly behind.
She shrugged and stopped at the security gate outside Watchdogs, Inc., feeling truly safe when the gate buzzed and opened. She typed a quick text to let Bailey know she’d arrived and then pulled into the compound.
Once parked in front of the office, she left the car and headed inside the best she could on weak legs. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and then closed the distance to Harvard’s office, taking care to smile and wave at Diesel on the way.
By the time she stood in the doorway of Harvard’s inner sanctum, she thought she might be able to put the incident behind her.
Standing in front of the sofa, he greeted her with a friendly grin. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
As soon as she spoke, the grin immediately dissipated. Obviously, she’d been wrong about forgetting about the incident.
“Grace? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Really? Because you’re so pale I can almost see through you.” He took her elbow and pulled her into his office. “Sit.”
While she maneuvered around the paper obstacles in the floor and sought the support of one of the chairs in front of his desk, he turned to the mini-refrigerator next to the sofa and then handed her a bottle of water. She gladly accepted the offering, unscrewed the cap, and then tipped it back until the cool liquid soothed her throat. After several swallows, she lowered the bottle with shaking hands.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“I think someone ran me off the road.”
