“Hazel? What are you doing here?” Ember exclaims, and I can see the relief on her face.
“Mr. Hottie over here thought you might like some company while he’s at work, and I missed my bestie.”
“Is that so?” Ember saunters toward me, the sway of her hips distracting me. “It’s not because you didn’t want me to be alone or because you thought I would be afraid?”
“Nope,” I lie like a rug. The truth is, those are the reasons why I asked Hazel here. For me. For Ember. For security. For my sanity—and hers.
“Mm-hmm.” She lifts onto her tiptoes and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you.”
“And just in case, I have Officer Joe patrolling every hour,” Hazel says.
“You still call him Office Joe?” I ask, confused by the formal acknowledgment when clearly, they are intimately acquainted.
“It just sounds… sexier.”
I roll my eyes, and Ember gives me a push toward the door.
“Go. It’s only going to get worse from here.”
“I’ll call you.”
“I’m sure you will, every twenty minutes.”
“Thirty. I will be working.”
One last kiss and I head out the door.
“Mark and your new client are already in your office,” Margie tells me when I walk in. “And just a heads up—the guy gives me the creeps.”
“Good to know. Thanks.”
I step into the office and immediately understand what Margie’s talking about. The guy looks put together—business suit, fancy watch, meticulous hair—but there’s something off about him. Nothing I can pinpoint, just a feeling.
“Ryder, this is Devlin Young, your new client,” Mark introduces us.
I step forward and extend my hand to him. “Nice to meet you.”
“Let’s get down to business,” Devlin responds.
To round things out, he’s a douche, too. I think it, don’t speak it, though I’m sure as fuck tempted to.
“Please, have a seat,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
“What is it we can do for you, Mr. Young?” Mark asks. He’s perched himself on the edge of my desk, arms folded and bulging biceps on full display. Obviously, our instincts are in sync. His typical relaxed nature was absent. Mark doesn’t seem to trust this guy, either.
“I need help locating someone.” Mr. Young is straight and to the point.
I hope he intends on giving us more than that.
“Who?” I ask.
“A client.”
“Was the client abducted?” Am I seriously going to have to keep pulling to get the fucking information from him? How in the hell does he expect us to help him if he’s not willing to give it up?
He shakes his head. “She ran away.”