A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(63)

“I . . .” She sighed, trying to find the right words. “I’m honestly not sure what happened. Or why I was attacked, I should say.”

He stiffened, his gaze darkening much the same way Nathan’s did when worried about a threat. “Attacked?”

She nodded and gently extracted her hand to rub the back of her stiff neck. “Yeah. Don’t freak out or anything, but someone rammed into me while I was driving home from the auction the other night. I knew it was intentional and I contacted the police. My . . .” She started to say “friend” but stopped herself. “My contact with the police department just left.”

Mercado nodded and something she couldn’t define seemed to click into place in his eyes. As if he’d known who Sinclair was. That was interesting. And not in a good way. Why would he know who a police detective was? Unless maybe he’d seen Sinclair on the news. Or maybe he’d had run-ins with him. . . . No, Sinclair would have told her if so.

If Mercado really was a criminal mastermind—and apparently she was thinking in James Bond–movie terms now—then it made sense he would know who some of the police were. Now she was very thankful that Nathan had kept her involvement in all this very quiet. The fewer people who knew, the safer she was.

“Yesterday I was attacked in a similar way, but it was more brazen. I had to pretty much crash to avoid hitting innocent people. The guy got away, but this morning a man . . .” She swallowed hard. Damn it, she’d been keeping it together, but talking about it was making too many emotions surge to the surface.

Mercado took her hands again, and a small part of her was grateful to be able to hold on to someone. “You don’t have to tell me. I was just worried, but you shouldn’t upset yourself.”

“No, it’s okay. It just hit me harder than I realized. Long story short, a man I fired not too long ago attacked me and another employee in the parking lot this morning. I thought I was being smart bringing someone with me, but the man Tased one of my waitstaff.” Which she still felt guilty about. “I managed to disarm Neal—that’s his name—with pepper spray and a lot of screaming.” She let out a short laugh. “It was absolutely terrifying, but I’m hopeful they’ll be able to prosecute him for everything.”

Mercado’s jaw had tightened and for the first time she could see more to him than the sweet, potentially possessive man. There was a rage simmering beneath the surface. It flared like a bright meteor before dimming and the polite man she knew was back. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Thank you, truly.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you headed home?”

She nodded. “Yes, and I think I’m going to take tomorrow off. Maybe.”

The ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “You’re like me. Work, work, work. If you’d like to be alone, that’s understandable, but if you want company I’d like to spend time with you.”

This was pretty much the perfect opportunity. She desperately wanted to go home and crash, but she smiled. “I don’t really feel like going home and I definitely don’t want to go somewhere public. We could . . .” She gave him the most sincere smile she could muster. “. . . kick up our feet by your pool with a couple drinks. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

His smile was easy. “That sounds like a plan. Do you want to go home first for anything?”

“No, just let me grab my purse and let my staff know. Should I drive or will you be able to bring me home later?”

“My driver will take you home whenever you wish.”

If it wasn’t for Nathan’s reentry into her life and the whole “potential psychopathic criminal” thing, Mercado would be a catch. “Perfect. Just give me a few minutes.”

Amelia kept her movements steady and normal as she headed back into the restaurant when in reality her heart was racing triple time. She’d gotten the invite to Mercado’s house again and all because of a deranged ex-employee. She was going to take full advantage of it and she sure as hell wasn’t going to his place without backup.

She ignored everyone and made a beeline to her office. Once inside, she locked the door and with trembling hands dialed the number Elliott had given her before.

He picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Amelia. You okay?”

She could hear the soft clicking of a keyboard and other voices in the background. “Fine. I don’t have time to get into it, but I got what you needed. I’m going there now.” She wasn’t sure how much she should say over the phone.

There was a brief pause. “Right now?”

“As soon as we’re done talking. I’m not going without backup.” Again, this was apparently her new James Bond dialogue. For her, backup had only ever meant a wing-woman when headed out for drinks with a friend. Someone to save her when an annoying guy was chatting her up. Not someone with a gun waiting nearby to infiltrate Mercado’s house in case he wanted to kidnap her.

“You’ll have it. Think you can stay an hour?” His voice was clipped.

“Probably longer.” It was afternoon. She could stretch out a few drinks with him and then beg off with a headache. The thought absolutely exhausted her, but she’d be potentially helping find Danita and a lot of other women. Being tired was nothing compared to what they could be going through.