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Maybe it’s my atonement for sins I didn’t commit.
Or maybe it’s just me doing what I always do best—running from any whiff of drama. Anything and everything that gets in the way of honest money and fresh ideas.
Regardless, I don’t have time for an ongoing stew of rumors.
“Fine,” I say. “If you think it’s a good idea, I’m not about to argue with you.”
“Excellent choice, sir.”
I glower at her.
Hannah doesn’t even blink.
“If you’re going to pick someone from social media to follow me around like a lost puppy, at least make sure they’re squeaky clean,” I warn. “I don’t give two shits who just as long as they’ll get the job done.”
She allows herself a small smile.
“Of course. Have I ever let you down?”
I don’t dignify that with an answer she doesn’t need.
She already knows the reason I keep her on is because when she’s in charge, I can take my hands off the helm.
That’s hard when I hate relinquishing control.
“Wipe my calendar for the weekend. I’m going to clear my head,” I say, pushing my chair back and shrugging my suit jacket on. The evening sun is big and orange, hanging heavier and lower as it slips below Seattle’s glossy horizon.
If I’m going to get out of here before sunset, I need to get moving.
As always, she takes everything in with a polite nod. “Another one of your excursions, sir? I can’t say I blame you.”
“Yes. I’ll be back Monday.”
“I’ll have some candidates ready for you then.”
“Good.” I switch off my computer and leave my tablet on the desk without a second glance.
God, what a fucking headache.
Why did I ever drag myself out of witness protection when it was all said and done with Uncle Aidan?
I have regrets.
If I’d kept the name Billy Jordan, I could’ve had a nice, boring life in Gilbert, Arizona. I could’ve been married and settled on a nice middle-class income with a couple orange trees.
No criminal baggage.
No Serena and her mess.
No fucking billions and cutthroat women thinking they’ll have the cleavage that’s able to restart my heart.
Instead, I’ve got Shepherd Foster’s problems and money and no fucking orange tree whatsoever.
Like I said, I have regrets a mile long, and there’s only one thing that ever gets my mind off them.
2
A Little Too Familiar (Destiny)
