Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(21)
“Water.”
The waiter looked at Brynn. “Any wings or nachos tonight?”
“I’d like the Otto Burger, no cheese, please.”
“I’ll have the same,” Erik told him. “And one to go.”
When the waiter was gone, Brynn looked at him. “For Hayes?”
“Skyler. She texted me in the car.”
Brynn put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “So let me guess, no drinking on the job?”
“That’s right.”
“What else don’t you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You guys seem pretty disciplined. No drinking on the job, no sleeping. Anything else off-limits?”
“No tobacco, no stimulants.”
“What, like Red Bull or something?”
“Anything with caffeine.”
“No way.” She leaned closer, and Erik tried not to glance down her shirt. “You don’t drink coffee?”
“No.”
She shuddered. “I would die. No, first I would turn into a complete hell-bitch, and then someone on my team would shoot me. You don’t drink coffee at all? Not even in the morning?”
“Never.”
“Is that by choice, or is it some kind of rule?”
“It’s in my contract.”
“Seriously?” She leaned back. “You need a new lawyer. And Liam sounds like a control freak.”
“Doesn’t bother me. I gave all that up when I joined the Secret Service.”
“Why?”
He smiled at her look of disbelief. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, I do.”
“It messes with my focus,” he said. “Coffee, sugar, junk food. Anything that gives you a short-term buzz eventually wears off and causes cravings. You’re better off without it.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Shouts erupted from the bar as the Rangers scored a run, and Brynn turned to look at the TV.
“No, it’s true,” he said. “Imagine you’re protecting someone. You need to be completely in the moment. Every moment. You can’t be distracted because you’re jonesing for a cigarette or a hit of something. You have to be focused on the principal and the surrounding environment, ready to tune into any threat, at any time.”
She stared at him. There was something smoky and sultry about her eyes tonight. And then there was that shirt. He was trying hard not to stare, but it was nearly impossible. Had she worn that for him?
No. She’d planned to go out with Ross tonight. So was there something going on between them? The guy didn’t seem like Brynn’s type, but Erik had only known her for two days. Anyway, if there was something going on, he’d find out. That was how these things went. Everything came out eventually—affairs, rivalries, grudges. Erik was trained to observe people and pick up on precisely the things they wanted to hide.
Such as the guy at the far end of the bar in the leather biker jacket. He had a gun tucked in the back of his pants, and Erik was keeping an eye on him.
“So . . . ‘be in the moment.’ ” She gave him a long look. “Interesting philosophy.”
“It’s more of an operating principle.”
“What else?”
“What else what?”
She smiled. “I want to hear more about your operating principles.”
Did she really? He watched her expression, but he couldn’t tell.
“Wolfe Sec is the best in the field,” he said. “Liam’s put together a workforce of highly trained, intensely focused operators who will go to any lengths to protect a principal.”
“Any lengths . . . like jumping in front of a bullet?”
He nodded.
“Really? I mean, come on. I can see why someone might do that for a president. But a rock star? Or a lawyer?”
Erik sighed. Here was the trust issue again. “Ideally, nobody’s jumping in front of bullets,” he said. “The best security is preventive. First and foremost, that requires having trust with the client. Meaning you.”
“Hmm. That’s a tough one, because I hardly know you.”
“You don’t have to know me. You have to know that your safety is my top priority. You have to know that I’m thinking about your case around the clock.”
“Even when you’re off duty?” She sounded skeptical.
“That’s the point. I’m never really off. None of us is. While we’re working for you, you have our full attention.”
The waiter dropped off their drinks. When he was gone, Brynn clinked her glass against Erik’s.
“Thanks for coming out with me.” She sipped the foam off her beer.
“No problem.”
He hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, but now he was glad to be here. There were things they needed to talk about, and she seemed more relaxed away from all her case files and legal pads.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about it. That’s bad luck.”
He smiled slightly.
“What?”
“You’re superstitious,” he said.
“Isn’t everybody, at least a little?”