Wrong Number, Right Guy

by Elle Casey

  “What’s the job?” Dev asks.

  “Corporate embezzlement. Marine accessories company. Not a lot of money involved from the initial look of things, but you never know.”

  They all nod, like there’s some inside story that goes with that comment.

  “Anything else?” Thibault asks, pushing out his chair.

  “Just Bo Peep. You all know who she is. She’s on a ninety-day probationary period, so make sure you do what you can as soon as possible to get her up to speed.”

  “I’ll show her the equipment,” Toni says, nodding at me.

  I nod back, leaving the Bo Peep comment on the table for later. I think I like May “the Meatball” Wexler better. It’s less insulting. Kind of.

  Everyone stands. I quickly follow suit.

  Ozzie speaks again. “May, stay behind for a minute.”

  “Okay. Sure thing.” No, I’m not freaking out about being alone with him up here while everyone else leaves and goes downstairs.

  I act like it’s critically important that my folders are lined up on all four sides while the team files out. Thibault is the last one to leave, and he closes the kitchen door behind him.

  Ozzie clears his throat, so I look up.

  “Listen, I don’t want to keep you, but I just needed to . . . uh . . . apologize.”

  He regrets what he did. I know he does. A sharp pain stabs me in the heart. Ouch.

  “Apologize?” My tone is completely casual. “For what?”

  “For the other night.” His expression is darker than I’d like. Yuck, it hurts.

  “Don’t be silly; there’s nothing to apologize for.” I wave my hand between us and scrunch up my face, acting like he’s crazy.

  “I was out of line, and I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

  “The lobster was a little over the top, but I forgive you. Can I get going now? I’m anxious to do this drive-by thing with Toni. I think she and I are going to get along great.” I leave my folders on the table and start walking toward the door. I’m going to save my tears of regret for later tonight when I’m drinking wine alone.

  “I’m not talking about the lobster.”

  “Lobster, wine, a kiss good-bye—whatever. It’s all the same to me.” I get through the door and shut it behind me before he can see my face crumple.

  By the time I’m at the door with the digital lock, I’m almost able to hold it together. I’ve been through this before, where a guy messes around with me and then regrets it later. I guess I can be irresistible sometimes, and this is the price I pay. Dammit. I really kind of liked him too.

  The door opens before I can start to panic about the code I don’t know.

  Dev is standing there, startled by seeing me. “You’re not going to shoot me again, are you?”

  “Not unless you’re about to hit me with a stick.” I gesture at the door lock. “Am I allowed to know the code?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I guess you need this one and the one outside the door here. You’ll also need one to open the big door outside, the gun safe, and the camera locker.”

  I dig around in my purse, looking for a pen.

  “Can’t write ’em down. You have to memorize ’em.” He points to the pad. “This one is my door, because I’m the one who collects the swords you see in this room. So the code for this door is Dev 1. Letters are on the number keys.” He shuts the door and gestures at the pad. “Go ahead and give it a shot.”

  I push in the keys, and the door clicks.

  He claps me on the back, throwing me forward. “Well done, Bo Peep. The other side of the door is Thibault’s domain. The code for the main warehouse room is T-B-O-1. Get it?”

  I nod. We go outside and shut the door behind us. “Try it,” Dev orders.

  I type in T-B-O-1, and the lock clicks.

  “You’re on a roll, baby.” Dev opens the door but lets it shut. He points from up where we are to a keypad down near the big door that lets the cars in. “Keypad over there belongs to Toni. Why? I don’t know. The code is T-O-N-1. You can close up when you leave. The rest of us have automatic openers. You won’t get one until you’re out of your probationary period.”

  “What about the gun safe and those other places?” I ask as we go downstairs.

  “Toni can give you those. I have to beat it out of here.”

  “Someone waiting on a stick to the forehead out there?” I laugh at my own lame joke.

  “Yeah, my son. My mom could only watch him for two hours today, so I’ve gotta get over there and take him back.”

  I pause, surprised at his answer. “You have a son? How old?”

  “He’s four, and a handful and a half.” He grins with pride. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  A lightbulb pops on in my head. So that’s what he meant when he was complaining to Ozzie that he has responsibilities. As I recall, Ozzie wasn’t very understanding about that excuse. Surely he knows Dev meant his son . . .

  “Good luck out there.” Dev holds up a hand, and I try to high-five him, but miss.

  He punches me lightly on the upper arm twice. “Two for missing. Try again.”

  I do better this time, and he winks. “You’ll get there.” He’s jogging across the floor before I can respond.

  “Don’t make me taze you again!”

  He laughs as he climbs into his car, and I smile all the way across the room to where Toni is waiting with a scowl on her face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Whenever you’re done playing grabass, I can show you the lockers you’ll need access to.”

  I’m too stunned to answer. I thought we were going to be friends. I guess I thought wrong. Poo. I hate chick drama, especially at work.

  She points to the gun safe I noticed on my last trip here. “These are the weapons we use from time to time. I don’t always carry, but when I do, I get my piece from in here. The code is C-O-L-T-4-5.”

  “Original.” I’m too cranky to play nice now. Why was she so rude to me? Was she only being nice before because everyone was watching? That’s going to suck if that’s the case. I’m about to be stuck in a car with her for I don’t know how long. Too long, probably.

  She pulls the door open to reveal more weapons than I’ve ever seen in one place, outside of an action flick.

  “Wow. That’s a lot of firepower.”

  She points, giving me a tour. “Handguns there; rifles and shotguns there. That one’s not exactly legal, so don’t get that one out without talking to Ozzie first.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be taking any of these out ever.”

  “Sure you will. Everyone here gets firearm training. We do refresher shooting once a month after we’re certified.”

  “Certified?”

  “Certified marksmen. Ozzie insists on it. He doesn’t want any of us shooting the wrong guy.”

  Most of the energy is missing from my voice. “That’s nice. I guess.”

  “Grenades there . . . they’re not live until that pin is pulled out, but I don’t recommend you touch them.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.” My eyes roll up into my head. These people are crazy. Why am I here again? Oh yeah. The money.

  “Bullets there. The boxes are labeled, so make sure you grab the right box for the right gun.”

  “Yeah, okay.” This is a complete joke. As if I’d know what the right bullet for a gun would be. Ha. Not gonna happen. The only thing I’m shooting is a camera.

  “Knives, nunchucks, singlesticks there, brass knuckles in that small drawer.” She turns partway to face me. “Any questions?”

  “Yeah. Where are the rocket launchers?”

  “We keep those in a separate location.”

  She leaves me standing there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot, talking as she walks. I have no idea if she was serious or not.

  “Other gear is in these lockers over here.” She throws the doors of one open. “Gas masks, Kevlar vests, gloves, helmets, boots.” She closes that
door and opens another. “Camping gear for stakeouts that aren’t in the city.” That door closes, and she moves over to a locked closet. “And inside here is your domain. Lucky already changed the code on it.” She gestures at the lock and smiles deviously. “Guess what it is.”

  I walk up slowly, eyeing the stupid lock, wondering what the big joke is. “How many digits?”

  “Four.”

  I sigh heavily. Her face is giving everything away. I press on the alpha keys, one at a time: P-E-E-P. The lock clicks open, and Toni’s smile falls away.

  “Ha-ha, very funny.” I pull the door open, gasping when I see the contents.

  “You like?” she asks. She’s back to smiling again.

  “I like a lot.” I reach in and pick up a camera I’ve wanted to own for the last five years but haven’t been able to afford. “Holy mother of camera gods . . .”

  “Yeah. Ozzie doesn’t skimp. He says we’re only as effective as our tools.”

  I smile, thinking about Dev. “What’s up with Dev’s car, then?”

  “The Phoenix?” she grins. “You can put like ten dead bodies in the trunk. We’ve used it a ton since he bought it last year.”

  I almost drop the camera.

  She takes it away from me gently and puts it back on the shelf. “Easy, Bo Peep, I was just kidding. Kind of.” She shuts the door and makes sure the lock is engaged. “I’ll let you play in there later. Now we have to go before all the bad guys wake up.”

  She leaves me standing at the locker. “Bad guys?”

  She’s climbing up into Thibault’s SUV, expecting me to go around to the passenger side. The motor is already running.

  “Shouldn’t we bring a camera or something?”

  “Nope.” She answers me through her open window. “This is just eyes-on recon, nothing more.”

  I hold onto the handle above the door to get inside. The SUV is higher off the ground than it looks. “Eyes-on recon. Eyes-on recon.” I’m repeating the expression so I can use it later in conversation. I’m starting to hate the fact that I stick out like a stupid Bo Peep in this group. Seeing all that camera and video equipment makes me want to give this thing a serious whirl.

  “Buckle up,” she says, adjusting the rearview mirror.

  I just get the belt clicked into place when she throws the car into reverse and tears out of the warehouse. Grabbing the handle is the only thing that keeps me from falling into her lap.

  “Holy crap, where’s the fire?”

  The tires screech a little as she swings the car around to go forward. “No fire. I just don’t see the need to drive like a grandma.”

  I frown as I sink down into my seat. Great. I’m a grandma Bo Peep. How much farther out of my element can I get?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Turns out, pretty far. I can get really, really far out of my element, hanging out with Toni for half a day.

  We started out in a seriously scary part of town I never want to go back to and ended up in something worse. What do you call a place where you see people actually dealing drugs in broad daylight? Hell?

  This is the place, believe it or not, where I’m supposed to set up some surveillance—with Toni’s help—so we can try to gather some information from the scumbags who live here. Or deal their crack here or whatever it is they’re doing. Ha! Crazy town! All I know is I’ve seen way too many pants hanging down past way too many butts today. Don’t any of these guys own belts?

  “So, what do you think?” Toni asks as we head back to the BSB lair, making her way through the Port, through the maze of commercial buildings and warehouses. “Doable?”

  I shrug. “I suppose. I didn’t really see what you have for equipment, but in theory, sure.” Anyplace can be photographed, watched, spied on. Whether you can do it without getting killed is the question. I have my doubts about the locations we scouted today, but Ozzie guaranteed my safety, so I’m going to focus on that and not the handguns I saw in people’s waistbands.

  “Wait ’til you see our van.” She’s grinning and squeezing the steering wheel. Two seconds later she jerks it to the right, and we take a corner way too fast. The tires complain. Again. She must go through a new set every couple months, the way she leaves rubber behind wherever she goes.

  “What van?” I ask.

  “Eyeballs on wheels. It’s where we monitor everything when we don’t have feet on the ground.”

  “Feet on the ground?”

  She pulls up to the warehouse door and grabs a small black remote that she taps a number into. “When we’re on foot and not in the van.” She sighs, like she’s tired of dealing with the lady on the short bus.

  It’s very disheartening to know I’m such a disappointment. I’m pretty sure I failed my trial today with her. It should be telling that I gain a point electrocuting her friend and lose a point not being a crazy driver with a death wish. I should probably not hang out with her too much.

  “Who does that work?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going. “The being-on-foot stuff?” I don’t see anyone in the warehouse, and I’m afraid we’re going to be stuck with each other for another two hours. Gotta keep things flowing.

  “Sometimes Thibault, sometimes me. Maybe you one day.”

  “Me?” I can’t keep the panic from my voice.

  “Not now. Not until you get some serious training.” She drives into the warehouse, shifts into park, and shuts the engine off. “Maybe after about six months you’ll be ready.” She opens her door and gets out.

  “Six months?” I get out too, a little offended. “I’m not that out of shape.” I pinch my side just to be sure. There can’t be more than an extra inch there. Inch and a half maybe, if I’ve recently been on a Ben & Jerry’s splurge.

  She’s walking up the stairs. “You won’t know how out of shape you are until you start working with Dev. Trust me. None of us did.”

  I flex my bicep and smile with pride at the little lump that comes up to say hello. Toni has no idea what she’s talking about. I lift cameras all day long without complaining. I stand on my feet for hours at a time. Three months. That’s all it’ll take me to become a badass. Ka-chow, baby—look out!

  A badass? Where did that idea come from? I don’t want to be a badass, do I? I let my arm fall back down to my side as I picture that man coming after me in his car and shooting at me again, and I nod. Yes. I want to be a badass. I want to be someone who won’t be afraid when she walks out the front door of her house, when she sees someone just drive by her house slowly, for God’s sake. I want to be the kind of badass that Ozzie finds attractive.

  “Oh my god,” I say out loud to myself. “Seriously, May, you need to get laid.”

  “What’s that?” says a voice off to my right.

  I look to the left instead. Nope. I’m not even going to acknowledge this person who might have just heard me. This isn’t happening.

  “Were you talking to me?” Ozzie comes out of the dark shadows and walks in my direction.

  I jerk my head over to see him. “Who me? No, I didn’t say anything. Just reminding myself of some chores I have to do later.” Namely, talk to a therapist because I’m crazy.

  “I thought I heard you say you need to get paid.”

  I point at him in a hurry. “I did! I did say that. Wow, you have great hearing.” Thank you, God!

  “I just need you to fill out a form with all your details, and then Lucky can get you on the payroll. Remember to keep all your receipts. He’ll show you the format for turning them in at the end of the month.”

  I nod, using my very serious expression. Keeping this all business will erase all those sexy thoughts that continue to try to pop into my head when he’s around. My inner poet takes over:

  Muscles, muscles, hard butts and pecs,

  Why must I keep my libido in check?

  Ack! Go away, sexy thoughts!

  “How’d your first day go?” he asks.

  This is good. Focus on work. “Good, I guess. Am I done?”
I’ve only been here a total of three hours. I can’t imagine he considers that full-time.

  “You just have one more thing to do, and then you can go.”

  I hitch my purse up on my shoulder. “Great. What is it?”

  “A workout.”

  “A workout as in . . . like at the gym?”

  Ozzie nods over at the equipment on the other side of the room. “Our gym, yeah.”

  “Okay.” I rub my hands together and look around. “Where’s Dev? He’s my trainer, right?”

  “Normally he would be, but today he’s recuperating from a Taser strike.”

  “Oh.” Aaaand the guilt is back.

  “So you get me as your trainer instead.”

  Aaaaand the sexy is back.

  He pulls off his sweatshirt to reveal a very tight sleeveless T-shirt underneath. It goes way too perfectly with his very revealing gym shorts.

  Quick! Evasion tactics, engage!

  “I, uh, didn’t bring my workout clothes.”

  “That’s all right. We have some for you.” He points to a locker. “In there. Get changed. I’ll be back in five.”

  And with that, he leaves me in the warehouse alone to work myself up into a righteous panic. I don’t know how I’m going to watch his muscles bulge and not throw myself at him. This is going to be a total test of willpower.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Turns out, it’s not such a hard test of my willpower to keep my hands off Ozzie while we work out together. The minute he starts making me strain and grunt to press things with my legs and lift some stupid dumbbells up into the air, all his attractive qualities take a back seat to his military hardheaded unattractiveness. I’m surprised he didn’t trade his beard in for a tiny, square mustache.

  “Give me one more!” he yells. “Come on! Push it out!”

  “Errrrrgh!” I know someone who won’t be invited to the birth of my first child. Push it out, my ass.

  “One more. Come on—you can do it. Push it!”