Page 35 of Perfect Pitch

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Love, loyalty, and friendship aren’t worth sacrificing over work. Get your priorities straight.

—Moore You Want

I punch my pillow before flopping over onto my back.

I can’t get Austyn off my mind, not just her beauty but her incredible wit and self-deprecation. I murmur aloud, “Like when the fish came tonight.”

Austyn stares at the whole salt encrusted seabass being presented to us for approval with abject horror.

“Problem?”

“It. Has. Eyes. Are you certain it’s dead? I’m certain he’s contemplating a counterstrike.”

Trying to stifle my grin I reply, “It’s definitely ready for us to eat.”

Picking up her fork, she taps it against the baked salt shell. “And we’re supposed to get through his coat of armor how?”

Just then, our waiter reappears with the necessary utensils, plates, and accoutrements to begin dismantling the fish into a succulent meal for us both. Austyn is fascinated by the process. I can’t help but remark, “Not used to this?”

She shakes her head, sending her rainbow braids flying. “I’ve been to my fair share of five-star dining establishments but they all center around things that moo.”

My gut twists a bit. Before I left the condo I share with the other Hudson Investigation agents assigned to Beckett’s detail, I ran a search on the conundrum that’s Austyn Kensington. There’s something about her that doesn’t add up for me and I learned long ago to trust my instincts. By the time it comes back, I’ll know more about her than what she shared over a meal I’ll cherish for the foreseeable future.

The problem is, after our night together, there wasn’t a single thing that set off any alarm bells other than the fact she’s trying to break into the same industry my boss works for.

So why did I push her away?

Resolute, I decide to reach out to her and apologize for my behavior just before my alarm goes off a few hours later.

* * *

Kane McCullough, head of Beckett’s security detail, begins our meeting by going over everything we know is on his calendar for the week. He jokes, “But as we all know, that could change on a dime.”

I raise my hand.

Kane points at me. “Clifton.”

“I’d just like to know if we need to start packing arctic gear or ghillie suits in the trunk. If that’s the case, we might need to requisition a new SUV just for gear.”

All the other agents burst out laughing. Kane, the most serious of all of us, permits himself a lip twitch. “If we get to that point, Clifton, I’ll be sure to let you know. Now, are there any questions?”

My hand shoots upward.

This time, Kane groans. “What now?”

“When was the last time anyone other than myself or Kane put in time at the shooting range?” I receive several glares from my colleagues for selling them out.

Kane jerks his chin upward. “Great question. Just because we don’t shoot first and ask questions later while we’re protecting Beckett doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be prepared in the event we have to. Everyone needs to fit in a couple of hours at the range this week.”

“When, McCullough?” Chin grumbles. “I barely see my wife and kid as it is.”

Kane’s cold blue eyes scan over the man. “You knew what the gig was when you agreed to the job. Don’t like it? Take it up with Caleb or Colby. This is part of your continuous training to make certain in the event we need to take action on behalf of our principal, we can.”

Chin’s head twists to the side. He flushes before bobbing his head in ascent.

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