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“Excuse me?”
“You can call me Toni. Since we’ll be working together.”
“Oh, um, okay.” With everything that had happened, he’d almost forgotten that he hadn’t actually been hired yet. He straightened his tie, then shook her hand. “Great.”
“Can you start immediately?” She escorted him back toward the door, her hand fluttering at her side as if she both did and didn’t want to reach out to him. “I realize you might have things on your agenda today that you need to handle, but I’d like you to be on call in case any more emergencies arise. Plus, we leave for Jubail in two days, and I’ll need to get you up to speed on my itinerary before our departure. We’ll also need to ensure all your travel documentation is in order.”
“Yes, ma’am.” At her impassive look, Spencer smiled. “Sorry. Toni. And I can start whenever you need me.”
“Good.” She stopped near the receptionist desk. “Be back in the office tomorrow morning at nine sharp, and we’ll get started. I’m sure the police will want your statement about what you saw—but if you have somewhere you need to be and can’t wait for them to get here, just leave your cell number with Paige, and we’ll pass it along.” She turned to her assistant. “Please call the building super. I want to move my things across the hall while the damage in my office is being repaired.”
“Right away.” The receptionist gave Spencer a not-so-subtle smile as she picked up her phone. “Have a great day, Mr. Nixon. Welcome aboard—and please let me know if there’sanythingI can do for you.”
While he had to admire her audacity, flirting like that right in front of her boss, he was no more interested in pursuing her now than he had been before. Maybe less. “Thanks, but I think I’m good for now,” he told her before turning back to Toni, who had started walking away. “Make sure you stay away from windows,” he called to her retreating back.
“Already covered.” She raised her hand in response. “The office across the hall is interior. No windows at all.”
Right. Okay.Spencer wrote his cell number on a Post-it note, handed it to Paige, and headed back down to the building’s lobby, his mind racing through all the things he’d need to do before they were wheels up on their way to Jubail. Top of the list was updating his team. Kyle would flip when he told him about the note Miles Arrieta had sent to Toni. He sent a quick text to his team about the new intel while he waited for the elevator.
He reached the first floor again just as a contingent of security guards raced past him for the stairs, presumably headed for Toni’s floor, while others rushed toward the front entrance, their radios squawking with reports of a possible active shooter situation.
Spencer veered toward a less busy side entrance, pushing outside into the midmorning DC sunshine and scanning the surrounding rooftops for more signs of snipers. Nothing. He walked to the beat-up black SUV that served as the team’s current mode of transportation, reaching it just as the first squad cars screeched up to Toni’s building, sirens wailing.
First on his agenda: get back to Scotty’s condo, which the team was using as headquarters these days. He needed to get the guys working on investigating the identity of today’s shooter.
As he headed down the Capital Beltway toward Woodrow Wilson Bridge, he thought about how simple things had seemed just a few months back—before that awful mission. Back when Nick was still alive, and their SEAL team had been respected and secure in their position in the Navy. Now one of their number was lost forever, and the rest of them were fighting against accusations of murder, struggling to expose a conspiracy that might reach into the highest echelons and finding more horrible surprises at every turn. It was one hell of a mess, but his commitment to his country and his team helped steel his resolve, spurring him onward.
No matter what it took, theywouldget to the bottom of this. For justice. For freedom. For Nick.
* * *
Toni sank into a chair in her new, windowless office space, her hands shaking as badly as her knees. It had taken all her strength to put on a brave front before Spencer Nixon, but now that she was alone, the shock and terror were definitely catching up with her.
This wasn’t how she wanted to live her life, constantly looking over her shoulder for the next attack, constantly afraid. An introvert at heart, putting herself into the limelight for the sake of her foundation was hard enough without people trying to shoot her. Still, it was an act she’d perfected over the years out of necessity.
Speaking of necessity…
She picked up the note she’d asked Spencer to translate and stared at the words. Toni had learned passable Arabic in order to better communicate with her contacts at relief organizations in the Middle East and could read the thing well enough herself, but she’d gone through more than her fair share of bodyguards these past couple of months. This time she’d wanted to make sure she got someone who could back up their claims.
Interesting that he’d not said a word about the part of the note that mentioned the e-readers. Part of her was glad. Maybe he considered the idea as absurd as she did. Normally, she wouldn’t bother with conspiracy blogs, but the rumors had been so persistent that her PR manager had thought she’d want to know, just in case it got picked up by mainstream media and was brought up as a barb against her in interviews. So far, the rumor had stayed in the shadows—where it belonged. Conspiracy theorists might like to spin wild ideas, but out in the real world, the concept of secret, coded intel funneled like dirty money through charitable organizations was too outlandish to be believed. It was all just lies used as weapons to destroy the good she’d tried to accomplish in her family’s name.
And it was the only part of her work that had gotten any kind of acknowledgment from her father at all. Not that he’d gone so far as to praise her or tell her he was proud of her—thatwas a pipe dream she knew better than to hope for—but when she’d shared her idea of bringing e-readers to children around the world, he’d stepped up to make her vision a reality. He’d paid for the e-readers and had them preloaded with stories. It showed that he believed in her, even if he’d never say it aloud. And that was why she wouldn’t letanythingget in the way of fulfilling the organization’s goals and delivering those e-readers. No matter how many threats she received.
Irritated, she shoved the note aside for the cops to take into evidence.
It really wasn’t all about her father. Not anymore. She believed in this charity mission. Access to education was the most powerful weapon the world had when it came to lifting people out of poverty. Jubail had a reputation as a rich nation, but that was only when you took the average. The elite were fabulously wealthy, but there were also pockets of extreme poverty. Fortunately, the country had a leader who was committed to doing something to help. The country’s archaic education system, which dictated that formal education was only for the wealthy—and only forsons,at that—couldn’t be restructured overnight, but the e-readers could make a big difference in regions where educational opportunities were scarce. If she could prove herself to Sheik Saaed, that could open countless doors for her among both wealthy donors to keep the charity afloat and government leaders who could help ease her entry into other countries.
She had to get this right. There was so much to gain if she succeeded—and so much to lose if she failed. Especially since she was already operating under a cloud of suspicion. A rival tabloid with a grudge against her father had started a nasty—and completely unfounded—rumor of misappropriation of funds within her foundation. Rumors she unfortunately couldn’t answer without help from her father and access to his private financial records. Which she wouldn’t have until he returned from whatever mystery location he’d disappeared to this time.
Ugh. She buried her face in her hands. Truth was, the foundation was faltering. If she couldn’t pull off this PR win in Jubail for Sheik Saaed and his organization, she might have to close up shop.
Toni took a deep breath and stretched her legs out in front of her, wincing when she noticed the multitude of cuts on her legs from landing in the broken glass. The cuts were tiny, shallow—they stung more than truly hurting, but they were a frightening reminder of what had happened. It could so easily have been the end of her—if not for her new bodyguard’s quick response. She took a deep breath and let her mind drift to the way he’d shielded her with his body, all his muscles pressed tight against her.
In the moment, she’d been too scared to pay attention, but thinking about it now…the remembered sensations were enough to make her cheeks heat. She wasn’t some blushing virgin, not by any means, but the tabloids expected someone with her money and social access to be a party girl, and she’d worked hard to fight against that stereotype. Her new bodyguard was the first man who’d been that close to her in months, so maybe that was why he had felt so good.
That’s the story she was going with, anyway.
She straightened and attempted to refocus on her to-do list for the Jubail trip until another knock sounded and Paige stuck her head around the door. “The police are at my desk, and building maintenance is on the way.”
