Nadine fussed with the computer programs that were still relatively new to her, Lindsay added cream and sugar to her coffee. Today she craved the caffeine even more than ever. Perhaps it was because of the chill in the fall morning. Or maybe it was the light pounding behind her ears. Not a hangover, quite, but close.
“Three interviews,” Nadine said finally.
“Only three?”
“Maybe it was that bit about ‘no attitude.’ Possibly some people found that a little intimidating.”
“If they did, then they don’t belong here.” Damn it, though, she did need to hire someone. And fast. Nadine was making inroads on the backlog of administrative tasks, but if she didn’t get a new investigator soon, she’d be forced to turn away clients.
She’d never expected her business to do so well, so quickly. Just two years she’d been operating and the cases kept coming, most of them referred from her sister’s legal firm, or from her contacts on the police force. Lindsay was determined not to drop the ball on a single case.
“Stanley Hodges is your first applicant and he’ll be here at nine o’clock,” Nadine said.
That gave her just ten minutes. Could she clear her brain-fog by then? She gulped more coffee. “Fine. Send him in when he arrives.”
She retreated to her office with her usual sense of pride and ownership. This was her business. She’d started it from nothing and it was actually thriving. Over the past few weeks Nadine had let her know that she found the decor rather severe. But Lindsay had chosen everything for its functionality. She loved the furniture’s straight lines and the tranquility of the gray color scheme.
Her own desk was glass and stainless steel. She wheeled up her chair and opened the slick, iMac computer to find her favorite news site. Kicking off her shoes, she scanned the local headlines. She’d just relax with her coffee and prepare her thoughts before—
A timid tap on her door interrupted her. She frowned. “Yes?”
Nadine opened the door with an apologetic smile. “Stanley Hodges is here. He’s early, but you said—”
“That’s fine.” Lindsay tamped down her annoyance as she glanced up from the computer screen. “Send him—”
Her throat closed as her mind disconnected from the present and rewound to the past. To the one, frustrating year she’d spent as a member of the New York Police Department.
The man entering her office was lean and muscular, with whiskey-colored hair and eyes a shade lighter than that. Two years ago she’d thought she’d said goodbye to him forever.
“Hey, partner. It’s been a while.”
For a wild moment her stomach dropped and her pulse quickened. Her ex-partner was looking good, but then he always had—if you liked the clean-cut type. Beyond his boy-next-door looks, however, the polite facade, the pressed khakis and button-down blue shirt, Nathan Fisher was a man with lightning reflexes, who kept his body in top physical condition.
For one year they’d spent pretty much all their working hours together. Since she’d quit the force, they hadn’t crossed paths once, by mutual preference.
So what was he doing here now? She gave herself a moment to regain her equilibrium. Calmly she rearranged the papers in front of her, then finally cleared her throat. “Stanley Hodges, I presume?”
One side of his mouth curved up. The cheeky bastard. He didn’t even apologize, just dropped a clipping onto her desk.
It was her ad from the newspaper.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Maybe the guys at the precinct had put him up to this. They’d all have a good chuckle at her expense later, over lunch.
But Nathan shook his head. “I quit the force. My last day was Friday, October 9, to be precise.”
“What? Why?” This just got stranger and stranger.
“Let’s just say I needed a change.”
“I don’t believe it.”
His eyes darkened. “You’re not the only one.”
This had to be bullshit. But maybe she should play along a little. “Okay. Say it’s true. What are you doing here? You can’t expect me to believe that you want to work for me.”
“I don’t want to work for you,” he agreed.
“Then—?”
“I want to be your partner.”
A four-letter expletive exploded from her mouth.
He wasn’t fazed. “Fisher and Fox Investigations. Sounds good, right?”
“Get out of here.” She pointed at the door. Yeah, right, Fisher and Fox. He was definitely yanking her chain.
“I’m serious, Lindsay. From past experience, you know our skills are complementary.”
She remembered one dark, rainy night, when it had been more than their skills that had been complementary. Hell. Why was she thinking about that? She had to get him out of here. Fast.
“When we were partners, you drove me crazy.”
“You may not always appreciate my style, but you need someone like me around. Bending the rules now and then is one thing, but you don’t bend them. You bulldoze them.” He scooped something from the floor, surprising her when he surfaced with her red pump.
“High heels with your jeans?” He cocked his head assessingly. “Never saw you as the type.”
She snatched the shoe from his hand. She’d bought the Jimmy Choo heels full price, with the last paycheck she’d received from the police department, and she was going to wear them until the three-inch heels were worn down to the ground.
“Either you’ve changed, or I didn’t know you as well as I thought.”
“It’s not a big deal. I happen to like nice shoes.”
“Not enough to wear them, apparently.”
She slipped the shoe onto her foot, then fumbled for the mate. “Every morning when I put on a pair of heels, I’m reminded that I don’t work for a big organization anymore. There is no chain of command. The buck stops with me.” She lifted her chin. “It’s a good feeling.”
Nathan nodded. “I respect that. In fact, I respect a lot of things about you. That’s why I’m here.”
Despite herself, she felt flattered. Hearing Nathan say that he respected her…well, that was something.
Leaving the force had not been an easy decision. As a kid she’d wanted so badly to become a policewoman. After graduating from college and moving to New York City, her goal had been to work for the famous—and sometimes infamous—NYPD. But when she’d finally finished the education and training necessary to entitle her to wear the dark blue uniform, she’d been bitterly disappointed at the reality.
Rather
