Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(44)

He stood up and walked over to where she stood beside the breakfast bar. Without her heels on, she was much shorter than he was, and she felt distinctly disadvantaged. She crossed her arms over her chest.

He stepped past her and opened the fridge. “Then why does he dangle you out there like that?”

She laughed. “Oh my God, do you even hear yourself ?”

“What?” He grabbed a bottle of water and leaned back against the counter as he twisted off the top.

“You don’t think your boss uses you?” She stepped closer. “You don’t think Liam Wolfe uses you guys with your combat fatigues and your muscles and your mean-looking guns?”

He tipped his head back and laughed.

“What the hell is so funny?”

“Our muscles? Like we strap them on when we come to work?”

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” she said. “You guys show up looking like SEAL Team Six, and it intimidates people. That’s your boss using your looks to get clients.”

His expression grew pensive, as though he was considering her point.

“And anyway, Reggie didn’t dangle me tonight. It’s called introducing me to the client. Danny Sheffield has a well-deserved reputation for being a hothead. He shoots his mouth off, gets into bar fights, punches paparazzi. Reggie wants him to know that if he hires our firm to represent him, he’ll get a woman in the courtroom to smooth some of his rough edges, and he definitely needs that to win over a jury.”

“So you admit he’s using you?”

“As an attorney, I sometimes use the fact that I’m a woman. If I don’t, you can be damn sure someone will use it against me to make me look weak.”

He just watched her.

“I freely admit it, Erik. I’ve been known to use sex appeal. I wear heels and skirts to work because it gets people’s attention. I tower over men whenever possible. I assert myself because people like strength. They respond to it. They respect it. You, of all people, should understand that.”

Erik looked at her, his expression unreadable, and she felt frustrated with herself for caring what he thought.

“You know what? I don’t need to defend myself to you.” She turned away, and he caught her arm. He gazed down at her, and she felt the heat of his touch all the way to her bare toes.

“You’re right, you don’t.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I offended you.”

“Whatever.” She shook his hand off. “I’m going to bed.”

Erik stared after her as she disappeared into her bedroom.

She was dead-on accurate.

His looks did help him do his job, and he was being a hypocrite. He intimidated people, and it was completely intentional. If a potential threat took a look at a target’s security team and backed down or decided to change targets, all the better.

Erik leaned his head back and sighed. He’d pissed her off. He should have kept his thoughts to himself, but instead, he’d spoken his mind. He wasn’t thinking straight tonight.

The instant he’d seen Brynn backed up against the wall by that asshole, Erik saw red. He’d wanted to deck the guy when he tried to kiss her. And if she hadn’t given him the slip, Erik would have decked him.

For the first time since he’d started this job, he felt rattled. Not because of some idiot ballplayer but because he felt his discipline sliding. He was getting distracted, which made him prone to mistakes. And he knew damn well this job left no room for error. What had happened this morning was proof of that.

Erik’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Jeremy.

“Are you at Brynn’s?” he asked, and Erik caught the tension in his voice.

“Until midnight. Why?”

“I just sent Keith over to cover for you. You need to come see this.”





THE PARKING garage beside the Ames Theater had nearly emptied out for the night by the time Erik pulled in. He found Jeremy on level six, leaning back against his gray pickup.

Erik parked the Tahoe next to him and got out, surveying the area.

“Not a bad view,” he said grimly.

“Look at this.”

Jeremy led him to a corner beside a stairwell. The parking spaces were empty, and over the four-foot wall of concrete, Erik had a view of the downtown skyline.

The Atrium was a sparkly tower in the distance.

A ball of dread formed in Erik’s gut. “That’s got to be, what, two hundred meters?”

“Two fifty,” Jeremy said.

As a former Marine sharpshooter, Jeremy would know.

This building was well beyond the area they had canvassed earlier. Jeremy handed him a pair of binoculars. Erik assessed the scene. From this elevation, he didn’t have a view of the Atrium’s entrance. It was blocked by the overhang that covered the apartment building’s driveway. But he could see where the driveway met Commerce Street.

So could a shooter.

“Now look at this,” Jeremy said.

They walked down the row of empty parking spaces. Before they reached the end, Erik knew what he was going to see. Sure enough, between two tall office buildings was a narrow view of the intersection in front of the mini-mart.

“That’s an even longer shot,” Erik pointed out. “That has to be three hundred meters.”