I’d been in the process of peeling my orange but paused at the name. Jim was Evaline’s husband, and he happened to head the security side of the company. “What does he need me to do?”
“Do you remember the big case we took last week?”
“The one about all the credit card fraud claims at the fast-food place?”
“That’s the one. Jim and Tony finally finished all the interviews yesterday, and he’d like you to transcribe them.” She pushed her glasses higher up her nose, worry lines appearing on her forehead like she truly thought I might say no.
“I don’t know how great I’ll be at it, but I can do it. Was that all?” I tossed the peel in the garbage and pulled off a few chunks of fruit, shoving them into my face.
“He wants you to apply for an Unarmed Guard license this week so you can take over a few shifts at the community college.”
I choked, burning citrus juice shooting straight up my nose. I gasped, patting my chest and blinking away tears. “What?”
“We’re picking up companies faster than people are applying. We’re understaffed, and he’s hoping you can pick up an occasional weekend shift.”
“Me though? Like…seriously, me? He wants me to take a guard shift at the college?” I was not an intimidating woman. I ran from spiders and peed myself when I saw snakes. I was not, in any way, cut out to be a guard.
“You have the educational background to qualify for it, and it’d only be when we have no other choice.” She smiled at me, but it was a forced expression, and it was clear she didn’t exactly agree with her husband on the matter.
“Okay, I guess. But I’m only available for a day shift on Saturday.”
“That’s perfectly fine. I’ll let him know your answer and send over the information for the license later this afternoon.”
I knew I was still sporting a grimace as we discussed the rest of the day’s schedule, going over client deadlines and the transcription assignment. My primary responsibility was running background checks, but we were getting in so many new clients I wondered how I’d fit in anything else when I only worked there thirty hours a week.
I’d been starting, stopping, rewinding, and replaying an interview for about an hour, and was diligently concentrating when fingers curled around my shoulder and warm breath tickled the back of my neck. Goosebumps erupted across my skin, and not the good kind. More like the kind you get before an evil spirit appears.
I’d been sitting hunched over my keyboard with my legs crossed in my chair, so when I slammed into the back of my chair, I smashed my knees into the underside of the desk and nearly tipped over. Ironically enough, it was the bear-sized grip still attached to my shoulder that kept me steady.
The feel of his breath stuck to my neck, and I slowly lowered my headphones and looked up at the man standing behind me. A few inches over six feet, Rob Spencer stood above my seated form like a fucking skyscraper on steroids. The guards and security technicians who sometimes came through the office had even nicknamed him after a famous, bald-headed wrestler.
A solid decade out of the military, Rob still maintained a high and tight haircut and always kept his sharp jaw shaved clean. He was thirty-eight and could have been an attractive man, if he wasn’t such a goddamn creep. Just being alone in my office with him was sending all sorts of bad vibes up my spine.
“Something I can help you with, Mr. Spencer?”
“As much as I enjoy hearing you say my name that way, darlin’， I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Rob.” He smiled at me, and he had the nerve to caress his thumb along the top of my arm. I looked down at his hand and back up at him.
“Rob. Something I can help you with?”
“Many things.” He smirked, and I vomited slightly in my mouth. “But today I’m actually here to help you.”