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Shaking it off, I return to pumping him for intel. We have a few more drinks while I pepper him with seemingly innocuous questions. Family, friends, work— the typical shit. But every question has a purpose. He seems a tad guarded about his family, but he’s an open book with everything else.
I bat my lashes and nibble my lip before asking, “When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?”
He exhales a soft sigh and grins. “You don’t want to know that. It’s silly.”
Chuckling, I needle deeper. “Oh, come on. Don’t do that to me. Now Ihaveto know.”
He squints and shakes his head, waving me off with his open palm. His reluctance is adorable. Every fucking thing about him is adorable.
Focus on the mission, girl. You can do this.
I keep my gaze locked on his, pressing my features into a playful yet hard line.
Finally, he spills it as his cheeks turn ruddy. “I didn’t know how or why, but I always knew I wanted to help people. I felt like I had a bigger purpose in life.”
Not so much as a single nervous twitch when he says it. No tells that hint at a falsehood. It’s not a line. He believes those words.
Well, this blows.
He’s got a hero complex, which isn’t all that surprising considering his career history. Enlisted in the Army at twenty. Joined the Rangers at twenty-six. Left the service at thirty to join Redleg Security with his fellow soldiers. A life of service to others.
But more than that, he seems genuinely altruistic.
That earlier discomfort blooms until it’s threatening to cut off my airway.
I don’twantto hurt him or use him.
But the pimp in me demands I get the intel from him. And you don’t dare cross the pimp.
As time passes, we get closer and start touching more. A shoulder nudge here. A brush of a hand there. My palm on top of his thigh and his on mine.
The way we look at each other warms, but it’s not all passion.
It’s something…more.
Nah. It’s probably just the alcohol buzz making me see things that aren’t there.
Cal tries to pivot the conversation to me a few times, so I do what I do best and distract him by creeping my hand up his thigh or stroking his arm.
The longer this ruse goes on, the stronger he pulls me in until I hang on his every word.
Son of a bitch. I fuckinglikehim.
For real.
I should tell him the truth about why I’m here. Perhaps I can simply explain that I just realized we’re going to be coworkers. That seems believable, doesn’t it?
Not really. If that were true, I’d have said something when he told me he worked for Redleg. He never attempted to conceal his employer— further proof of his trusting nature.
It’s too late to turn back now. I’m committed. The only thing left is to stay the course and complete the mission.
Even if it hurts a little.
What’s one more stain on my soul? At this point, there’s more dark than light.
Disgusted with myself, I order two rounds of shots to help me shake off this unexpected connection I feel to him.
Klein never explicitly tells me why he wants the position so badly, which is unfortunate, but I learn quite a bit about him in the process. I think I have enough to outmaneuver him at the office, keeping one step ahead. He doesn’t have the technical knowledge required for the position. That’s probably why he hasn’t already been promoted.
