Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(17)

“Yes, obviously. And I think it’s sweet of him to do this, but you don’t know Reggie like I do.”

“You think Reggie is paying our rates because he’s sweet?”

She set her laptop on the floor. “No, I think he’s paying because he’s paternalistic and overprotective, especially when it comes to me and Ross. And because your involvement will generate publicity for him.”

“If you’re so opposed, why didn’t you refuse protection?”

“Reginald Gunn is a hard man to say no to.”

He looked at her. “How long have you known him?”

“I met him in Dallas seven years ago when I was fresh out of law school. Back then, we were on opposite sides. I’ve worked for his firm for three years.” She shifted in her seat to face him. “And I’ll save you the guesswork—I’m thirty-three. But I bet you already read that in the big fat file you probably have on me, right?”

“We’re the same age,” he said, dodging the question.

“I know. I have a big fat file on you, too.”

Erik tried to hide his annoyance. He’d underestimated her.

“I had a friend run a criminal background check on you and your teammates.” She paused. “What? I’m not about to shack up with a bunch of strange men twice my size without checking them out first.”

“So how’d I check out?”

“All clear. Except for last year’s speeding ticket in Virginia. Congratulations, you’ve been vetted.”

Vetted. She had no idea how much vetting he’d gone through during the course of his career.

She cast a sideways look at him. “You’re smiling. Something funny?”

“No.”

“You think I’m paranoid.”

“No, caution is good. Especially for someone like you. I wish more people would take commonsense precautions.”

“Someone like me . . . meaning a single woman living alone?”

He caught the defensiveness in her voice.

“Someone in your job. Anyone involved in the criminal justice system needs to be careful. In my opinion.” He glanced at her. “Your picture’s been in the news, too, so that doesn’t help.”

He didn’t add that her boss was the worst kind of client. The man was a publicity hound, and his law firm was frequently in the media. Erik didn’t know if Brynn was like that, too.

“On the contrary, publicity helps a lot,” she said.

And there was his answer.

“How?”

“My client is young,” she said. “When we win this trial, he has a life to go back to, and I want to help him rehab his image. This kid is more than just a mug shot everyone’s seen on TV. But I digress.” She smiled. “We were talking about you.”

She seemed to like needling him.

“I also know you’re from Rockville, Maryland, and you were in the Marines before joining the Secret Service. Very impressive.” She paused, as if she expected him to say something. “How come you quit?”

The word “quit” rankled.

“Various reasons,” he said.

“So . . . the hours? The travel? Better money in the private sector?”

He could tell from the spark of interest in her eyes that she wasn’t going to let it go. And this was why he hated small talk.

“Something like that.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There’s not.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ve spent a whole lot of time deposing people, and I happen to be pretty good at sensing when they don’t want to talk about something.”

“Maybe another time.”

“I knew it. But just tell me, you weren’t one of those guys who got fired for partying on the job, were you? Drugs and prostitutes?”

He shot her a look.

“Didn’t think so.”

She sounded pretty pleased with herself for boxing him into a conversational corner. And she sounded something else, too. Flirty? Maybe he was imagining it.

She slipped off her sandals and shifted on the seat, tucking her feet underneath her, and he noticed her red toenails.

Erik cleared his throat. “So tell me more about this trial you plan to win.”

“Nice redirect.”

He waited for her to answer, but she just looked at him. She’d been doing that all morning, and it was messing with his head.

Erik’s last client had been a tech CEO, and he’d spent every minute of every car ride glued to his phone. But this client was a lawyer, which meant she got paid to talk, and she evidently enjoyed it. Erik hadn’t counted on so much conversation. He hadn’t counted on any of the things that were making this the car ride from hell.

First problem, she smelled good. Not perfume but something sweet and subtle, like maybe her shampoo.

Second problem, she looked good. He’d known that going in, but he hadn’t realized how hard it would be to be cooped up right next to her without getting distracted. She wore skintight jeans—dark blue today—that showed off her killer legs and high-heeled sandals again. Yesterday’s were thin and strappy, but these had big, chunky heels that gave her an extra few inches. Not that she needed it. She wore a white button-down shirt that could have been a man’s, only there was something feminine about it—but damned if he could pinpoint it. It was too loose to reveal her shape, but he kept getting glimpses of her collarbone.