Page 6 of Gluttony
She said nothing when she arrived. Just stood there, gathering her calm.
After a few moments, he asked, “We working for this wanker again?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” He nodded, but then added, “Max won’t be happy.”
“Max can kiss my fat ass.”
“Your arse isn’t fat.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re scared of me.”
He arched a brow, tilted to the side, looked behind her at her rear, then straightened and shrugged. “Maybe p-h-a-t phat. As in, fully sick phat.”
She blinked. “What did you just say?”
“You know,fully sick. As in—never mind.” He shut his mouth and tried to look innocent. “It’s all coming out wrong.”
“Goddamn Aussie.” She cursed, but there was humor in her voice. “All right. Let’s go.”
“Good. Max needs us back at the office. He’s got another job for you tonight.”
* * *
When Baileyand Damien arrived at the Nightingale Securities headquarters, their leader waited for them. A few months earlier Max had been taken hostage by a bomb wielding terrorist. No, that wasn’t quite right. Max had been strapped with a bomb and left with a dead man’s switch attached to a ton of C4 and a cell phone detonator. Prior to that, he’d been missing for weeks. Missing whilst in the employ of the Lazarus family.
Bailey was still dark over that. Still peeved at how no one told her what had really happened during those two weeks, or what Max had really been tasked with for the family. His recent engagement to Sloan Lazarus was the only thing keeping her from commencing an all-out investigation of the suspicious family brood. But she wasn’t CIA anymore. It wasn’t her job to snoop in other people’s lives.
Live your own life, she reminded herself.Make your own choices. Be free to forge your own path.
Freedom came in all shapes and sizes. It wasn’t just the liberty of one’s body from incarceration or capture; it was the power to think and act how she desired, without manipulation, without suggestion, and without oppression. It was the ability to think for herself and make her own decisions.
Max gave that to her. The CIA hadn’t. Her family hadn’t.
But she wasn’t going to cry into her protein shake every morning over the matter. She was going to take that freedom and live her own life. Until Max’s disappearance, it had gone well. Now she was questioning things she shouldn’t.
Taking a deep breath, she faced Max—a perpetually blond, tanned and hard man. Since his near-death experience, he’d been different. Distant. Curt. Then he announced his engagement to Sloan and he became happy, and dare she say, jovial at times. She almost preferred the hard-as-nails Max.
Almost.
She’d investigated the three-person Nightingale Securities team before applying for the job, and she knew all about Max’s tragic history during his service with the Australian army. She believed he was a good man, despite his reason for being dishonorably discharged. Over the past six months, along with the rest of the small security team, he’d become the only family Bailey cared for.
Not that they knew it.
“Max,” she stated as she placed her black leather handbag on her desk. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize for the way she’d left her previous assignment. Word would get back to Max soon, if it hadn’t already. But she didn’t want to make an excuse. That drunken asshole deserved the tongue lashing he got. Behaving like that at his daughter’s party? He should be ashamed of himself. Bailey wouldn’t apologize for sticking up for herself.
Dressed in a pair of black jeans and a tight muscle-bound T-shirt, Max was a catch. Just like the other two Bailey worked with, a fact the barista at the restaurant over the road constantly reminded her of. Bailey didn’t see it. She did, but she didn’t. Her mind had locked away those feminine emotions and feelings a long time ago.
Only one person had come close to triggering any sort of response, and it didn’t make an iota of sense. He was a poster boy for everything she despised but also the very thing every woman in the world would do anything to be with.
Maybe that’s why she couldn’t stop thinking of him. Must be. He was a conundrum. A mystery she needed to solve. A puzzle. The moment the thought entered her mind, her stomach revolted. Nope. Stay away from him.
Tony Lazarus was trouble in the shape of a gorgeous, smiling cocktail glass she didn’t need.
Max collected his keys and strode to the entrance. “I’m on my way out, but I need you to work a double shift. I have another job for you. Tom-Tom is still on assignment.”
“I’m listening.” She supposed she had nothing else to do tonight.
