Page 9 of Enticing the Fixer

“I believe something is going on. We need to find out what, before someone gets hurt.”

“You’re on. When do I report?”

“Monday morning at 8 o’clock. You’ve been hired as Leonardo Peng.” He went with my mother’s maiden name, which will help me remember to answer to a different name. My father is of Italian descent, and my mother is Chinese. They make for an interesting combination. “No one will know you aren’t a legitimate accountant.” He grins. “Which you are, and not even my client will know we have someone on the inside.”

“Timeframe?” This is better than I expected. If no one knows who I am, it will make things easier. One day with the books, and I’ll know what’s up. Then, it will only be a matter of discovering who’s behind it. If anything is going on.

“Probate settles this week. It should be a cut-and-dried case as the daughter is his closest blood relative. But the board is growing restless, and I’m concerned there will be a hostile takeover. I don’t know that….” He pauses for a second. “I’ll stop there.”

Interesting. I finish my beer. He doesn’t believe the story about the owner’s daughter being a liability. “I’ve got you, Boss. Give me a few weeks.” Not that I’ll need that long.

“Perfect. Do you want something to eat?”

“Sure.” I nod. Since moving into my place, I’ve not had time to shop. “I was going to grab some takeout on my way home, but this will work.”

As if my brain doesn’t remember why I shouldn’t stick my hand on a hot stove when the burner is on high, my gaze returns to the brunette at the table with her redheaded friend.

She snaps her head around as if I caught her staring at us. Maybe I have her pegged all wrong. Maybe she is the type who’s here for a good time. Scratch an itch and move on. I’m up for that.

“Leo….” The censure in Truman’s voice does nothing to dissuade me. I tend to do the opposite when someone tells me what to do.

“Yes?” I gnaw on my bottom lip.

I hate moving, and the possibility of unwinding with a woman’s legs wrapped around me would make everything bearable. I cock my head. Even better–she doesn’t know who I am, she doesn’t know anything about the scandal with my ex, and I don’t have to see her again.

“Don’t.”

“Is she married?”

He groans and rakes a hand through his hair. “The few times I’ve been in here, I’ve not seen her with a man.”

“Is she a criminal?”

“No.” He shrugs. “Not as far as I know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I need you to focus on the task at hand. I need three weeks of your undivided attention. This deal is that important.” A plume of smoke wafts above his head, swirling as the man behind him exhales after taking a drag from his cigarette.

“I won’t let you down. I’m looking forward to the challenge.” I waggle my eyebrows as I shift my thoughts to the woman versus the job, he’s hired me to do.

“Right,” he groans. “Another puzzle to solve. She’s not your type.”

My teeth grind together. “What’s my type?”

“I’ve known Jagger for years and heard about you and your friends.”

“That’s bullshit. My friends and I aren’t dicks who pursue a woman and leave behind a string of broken hearts. The women come to us, and we typically deflect them.” It’s not worth the hassle of having billions of dollars if someone always has their hand out. That was the appeal of moving to Kansas City. No open hands. No one watching our every move.

She glances over her shoulder. When our gazes meet, adrenaline shoots through my veins. Complete anonymity.

A slow smile curves up to my cheeks. “Do you know her?”

“No.” He grinds out the word as if his teeth are set together.

“Maybe I should stop by her table and say hi.”

“You’re a pain in the ass. You pick the one woman I say to stay away from.”

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