Page 193 of Bossy Hero

A soft knock causes me to straighten in my seat and exit from the airfare search results on my screen. “It’s open.”

Vibrant red hair and big green eyes poke through the crack of my door. “Hey, Boss. You wanted to see me?”

I wave her in. “Come on in and close the door, Mia.”

There’s a tentativeness to her gait that I haven’t seen from her before. Her smile is stiffer than usual. And after she lowers to the seat in front of my desk, her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath.

It’s oddly entertaining to see the former CIA analyst off-kilter.

I force my face and voice to remain impassive. “Something wrong?”

Her lashes flutter as she attempts to reel in her unease. “I’ve been expecting this for a while.”

Taking a quick look under the hood, I see she’s itching to come clean about something. No fucking clue what it is. But I’d be a monster not to let her clear her conscience.

Yes, it’s entirely altruistic.

Holding her gaze, I scratch my fingernails through my beard and nod slowly. She tips her chin up, confidently looking me in the eye.

Impressive.

One of the reasons I hired her—on top of her stellar technical skills—was her refusal to cower. She’s got a spine of steel. It’s ironic how Klein calls hertiger. It’s perfectly fitting for Mia. Couldn’t have named her any better myself.

I flare my nostrils with a forceful exhale, hoping it spurs her into talking. Most people can’t stand awkward silence, so they’ll say anything to make it end.

If only they realized that in silence, we are given the chance to hear the truth.

There’s a tiny crack in Mia’s facade. It’s right under her left eye. A minuscule twitch. Then it travels to her left cheek before landing in the corner of her mouth, where it’ll stay until she confesses what she’s done.

All it takes is a sharp plunge of my brows to get her talking.

“Boss, I’m sure you can understand why I’d investigate you and the team before joining Redleg.”

Ah. So that’s where this is going.

She likely knew about Lettie well before the night of the prep house raid.

Keeping my lips pressed in a hard line, I simply nod and wait for the rest of her confession.

“I would have told you, but I figured you already knew.” Her features crumple, and she shakes her head. “That’s a lie. I’m sorry. I knew you didn’t know about Lettie.”

Mia should have stopped while she was ahead; I was a second away from waving her off and sparing her further guilt. Sadly for her, though, she didn’t shut up.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was a few reasons,” she starts. “Primarily, I didn’t think it was my place. After all, we’d only just met, and I didn’t know everything about you that I do now. Plus, I didn’t know if it would affect her. And then there was the Tomer factor.” She lifts one shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Anything else you want to get off your chest?”

Humor dances behind her irises, and her mouth bunches to one side. “Wait, wait, wait.”

I can’t hold back my grin for another second.

“Son of a bitch,” she moans, her head sagging in an arc. “I walked right into a trap, didn’t I?”

Pasting on a maniacal smile, I hold up my palms and shrug. “They say confession is good for the soul.”

She snickers quietly into her cupped hand, still shaking her head at herself. “I’ve been away from the CIA too long.”

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