Page 7 of Fierce-Zander

“Am I?” he asked his assistant. She’d been with him since he opened his business years ago. He’d met her when he was a police officer and she’d been a witness in an office mishap.

Damn, that woman had all the details and facts he needed before he could even ask.

She’d joked that she loved cop shows and playing detective and when her radar was up she was just on watch.

When it came time for him to start his business, he’d taken a risk and asked her if she’d be interested. He couldn’t pay her much, but she’d been so thrilled over the prospect she jumped.

“You are,” Betsy said. “Did your phone die when you were trying to take pictures or something just now?”

He laughed. “No.”

One of his biggest contracts was with an insurance company trying to catch fraudulent worker compensation cases. They were simple enough and sometimes he even sent Betsy on field trips to do it for him. He’d been nervous about it, but she’d been a great asset when it came to sniffing things out.

“So you caught the guy running?”

“I didn’t,” he said. “Just out walking his dog. I did hear him on the phone talking to someone about a basketball game at four at the park.”

Betsy was rubbing her hands together. “Did you find out the name of the park?”

“I’m going to assume it’s the one around the corner from his apartment since he’d said he can get there in three minutes.”

“Could be driving though,” Betsy said, punching into her computer. “Nope. No parks within driving distance that close. That’s on my way home. Oh...they’ve got a dog park there too.”

It was the hopeful look in her eyes. He had a shit ton to do anyway and wouldn’t mind passing this off.

It was almost on cue that Betsy’s rescue dog, Rocco, came out from under Betsy’s desk where he slept on a pillow.

He wasn’t sure if dogs were allowed in the building, but Rocco was small enough to fit in Betsy’s bag and no one saw her bring the mutt in.

His best friend, Royce Kennedy, was one of the owners of the building and knew Rocco was here but had never said a word.

“We know how this plays out,” he said. “No reason to waste either of our time talking about it. You can leave and do what you need to do. But get that picture.”

“Yes,” Betsy said, doing a little fist pump. “Best job ever.”

“You’re only saying that now because you got your nice fancy building and get to chat with other women on this floor.”

Betsy snorted. “Hey, can I help it if the last place had a leaky roof and smelled like mold? The doors didn’t shut all the way and the windows rattled in the wind.”

“And you threatened to leave multiple times.”

“Just look at how your business has expanded since you moved here,” Betsy said. “You’re more professional looking and you are getting referrals from other tenants. Trent is always giving you business.”

“Which is why I returned the favor just now,” he said, smirking.

“What happened?” Betsy asked.

He filled her in on the couple in the hall. “Then Regan came out right when her client marched into Trent’s office. I thought for sure I was going to get an earful about ruining all her good work.”

“Nah,” Betsy said, waving her hand. “Regan isn’t like that.”

“Do you talk to her much?” he asked. It was news to him, but it’s not like he was in the office all that much. Sometimes he was even out of town for days.

“Once in a while,” Betsy said. “If I see her in the hall or the staircase. She normally walks up and down. I find her refreshing.”

“Refreshing?” he asked. “I’d say more like cool.”

“That’s right,” Betsy said. “Cool and refreshing. She’s beautiful. She’s smart. She’s witty. And she’s shy. Kind of perfect, don’t you think?”

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