Page 32 of Garrison's Creed

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I’m with Titan.”

“Well, in a manner of speaking, explain a little more, or I’m gone.”

“Roman works for me. As does Cash. As does everyone at Titan.”

For him? Crap.This was the big boss, and she wasn’t on her best behavior.“You could’ve just said that.”

“And miss all this fun? Not on your life, princess.”

What? Princess? “I’m not a princess. Why am I here?”

“I want the butler, and the candlestick too, if you think you’ve got it in you.” For the first time, Nicola was willing to let him play his game. He tilted his head. “Got your attention, didn’t I?”

“The CIA sent me to you because of the butler?”

“The CIA doesn’t trust him either. You’ve been partnered with him, and you and I are going to smoke his ass out.”

“And why aren’t the Farm boys doing that?”

Jared smirked, maybe as impressed with some of her co-workers as she was. “It was better to outsource this one. They already had us working on Antilla Smooth anyway.”

“Yeah, found that out.”

His smile was half-cocked and fully-loaded with a snarly comment. “You’re just like Roman. Bet you’re a pain in the ass too. Aren’t you, princess?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll partner with you if you don’t call me princess.”

“Why are you negotiating when we both know you can’t wait to gut the fucker?”

He wasn’t at all stupid, was he? “Fine.”

“Fine. I’ll be in touch.” He turned toward the elevator. “Have a good evening.”

Of all the people this blind date could have been, Titan’s head honcho wasn’t someone who’d crossed her mind. Nicola’s phone buzzed in her purse. Unknown caller ID.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Nic.”Cash.A deluge of questions flooded her mind. The only one that bore noting was why the deep timbre of his voice caused a shiver to cascade down her shoulders. “What ya up to?”

Where to begin?

“Not much. You?”

“About the same.” This had the makings of a boring conversation if neither of them were going to tell the truth. Cash cleared his throat. “Actually, not true. But nothing I can burn up a phone line about.”

Maybe they were on the same page. “Cash, I, um—”

“I want to see you.”

Her breath caught, and her heart picked that moment to have a palpitation. Oh, behavioral analysts would have a field day with that reaction. She nodded instead of speaking, but it didn’t do any good. Why couldn’t she string two syllables together?Okay. No prob. Me too.

“Nic? You there?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m… tired.”

“Tomorrow night, bunch of us are getting together for a cookout. You down to go? You know, catch up with us for old time’s sake?”

She nodded again, and this time managed two syllables, one word. “Okay.”

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