Page 78 of Nixon’s Promise

“Storage,” he unnecessarily told me and turned directly opposite and pushed open a door. “Office number one.”

It was a good size. One window facing the street, the same beat-up wooden floors and white walls. They should’ve been painted an antique white or cream with a matte finish. The high gloss showed every imperfection in the plaster.

Nixon closed the door and walked a few feet to another door and opened it. Office number two was a carbon copy of office number one. At the end of the hallway there was a set of stairs that I feared we’d fall through if we walked up together. The stairwell was also dark, the only light illuminating the area was from the open archway at the top.

“Someone’s gonna bust their ass if they try and climb these at night,” I noted.

He didn’t answer, but he did chuckle as he led me up the steep stairs.

The room on the third floor was gigantic. It was the same size as the downstairs but one big open space.

“Wow,” I muttered.

“Total waste of space. We’ll break this up into four or five offices. Maybe take out the wall between the two offices downstairs and make that a conference room.”

“There were two more doors off the main space, what are those?”

“Bathroom and a coat closet,” he told me.

“This is great, Nix. But it’s gonna be a bitch getting furniture up both sets of stairs,” I reminded him.

“That’s the only downside,” he agreed. “I needed something in a pinch and when the owner cut the rent nearly in half, I couldn’t pass it up.”

I was still amazed he was able to find something as fast as he had. Not that Cliff City was a thriving metropolis, but ordinarily it took more than a few hours to find a place, negotiate a price, and sign a lease.

“Well, I love it. Zack was right about all of it. Totally cool and badass for a bunch of…well…badasses.”

He shook his head at my stupidity and asked, “What about you? Could you see yourself working in this place?”

“Me?”

The thought of working with Nixon made butterflies swarm in my belly. I was helping him out with his current case but there was an expiration date on that. We had under ten days until whatever the bad guys were planning would happen. Which reminded me, I had a ton of work to get started on.

“We could easily separate the space up here into six offices, or you could share mine, or we don’t have to tear out the two downstairs. There’s enough room for sure.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Did I want to work in this awesome office and see Nixon every day? Hell yes. But the thought scared me. I was already tied to him in a variety of ways—mixing business into that on a full-time basis might get messy.

“What has you thinking so hard, McKenna?”

“You want me to have an office?”

Oh, God, that sounded stupid.

Nixon didn’t say anything, he just waited for me to continue.

“What if… I mean… you want me here? Like every day?”

“The guys and I talked. Gemini Group isn’t only mine, all five of us own the company. I may own the majority but we’re a team, and as such, all decisions will be made as one. We need a computer expert. All of us are proficient but nowhere near expert. We also need someone we can trust—explicitly. So, we all agreed you’d be perfect.”

He said they needed someone they could trust. Explicitly trust, and they had agreed I’d be perfect. Besides the belief my dad and stepmom had extended to me when they’d named me guardian of their two beloved children, no one had ever shown such confidence or trust in me. Sure, I’d worked on jobs that were considered sensitive and I had a security clearance, but those weren’t the same.

“You think I’m an expert?”

“Babe.” That was all Nixon said, like it was an answer when it wasn’t.

“Things could get complicated, us working together and being what we are.”

“Complicated isn’t a bad thing.”