Page 42 of Fanatic

“Yup.”

“Sorry, I’m Fanatic,” Fanatic said, as if he had just remembered his manners.

“SSA José Jimenez,” Jimenez replied, rising and holding his hand out.

Fanatic shook it before looking at the table. “Making headway?” he asked.

“This pile we’ve agreed, this one we do not like, and this is maybes,” I answered, tapping my pen on each.

“If you’ve got maybes, then they’re nos. They’re a maybe because one of you picked up something wrong about them. I’d make that a no-pile. If you don’t have enough, either ask for more apps or consider who you want working for you and invite them to the interview. Might be some didn’t apply because they did not think you’d pick them,” Fanatic said.

“Such as Worrell,” Jimenez mused. “I’ve not seen a file for him and he’s an amazing agent. Solid and methodical but able to work alone, take the initiative, and have flashes of great inspiration.”

“Good call,” I replied, flashing Fanatic a smile and looking for Worrell’s file. It wasn’t here.

“Glad I could help. See you soon,” Fanatic said and, with a chin lift, walked out.

“Never seen a guy so morose to go on a date,” Jimenez stated with a chuckle.

“Me either. I’m going to order food, what do you fancy?” I asked.

“Anything’s good with me, ASAC Ware.”

“Call me Willow, Jimenez, unless we’re on a job. I’m starting to get itchy with the constant ASACs.”

Jimenez chuckled again as I dialled for pizza.

Fanatic

This was a total fucking nightmare. The sweet girl I thought I’d asked out on a date had turned into some sort of sex maniac. I had met April at a restaurant downtown, and the cute girl next door image had been replaced by a slut on the prowl look. April had plastered on make-up, and it didn’t flatter her. She wore a seriously short dress that made me worry for her if she had to bend over. It was clingy, too; Lycra pushed April’s boobs up until they nearly gave her black eyes. Crap.

I smiled politely as April began babbling the minute I greeted her; after, I took three looks to check it was her. April was using a breathy voice that was starting to grate on my nerves and a silly twitter of a giggle.

Yeah, April had a stunning body, but holy hell, she wouldn’t stop fucking talking.

She had questioned me about my role as prospect and then about the club. It was followed up by questions about last year, which I promptly shut down. Once I think she’d gaged my worth, April began bleating about how she was a social influencer. She only worked at the coffee shop until she got established, apparently.

An hour later, I was ready to stab a knitting needle into my ears.

I paid close attention when April asked about my family, and while I was vague, she was more than pushy. Slowly, it dawned on me: April knew exactly who I was and was playing me.

After dessert, I called for the bill and once settled, we left.

“Would you like to come back to mine?” April suggested as we stood outside. “You can follow my car.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Fine, where are you parked, I’ll follow you. I don’t mind,” April said, pursing her lips and wriggling. Did she think that shit was sexy?

“You’re not coming to mine. My housemate would not like it.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t care,” April stated, stepping closer and pressing against me.

I stepped away quickly. “She most assuredly would, and so would her baby son,” I replied.

“Hey, if threesomes are what you are after, I’m game for anything,” April teased, blowing her hair out of her face.

“This is a one-and-done. Sorry, you’re not what I thought. I don’t like sexually aggressive women. Especially those who’ve done their research and know who my mum is. Yeah, I clocked it through your not-so-subtle questioning. I’ll walk you back to your car and then I’m going home alone,” I said.

---