Page 32 of Enticing the Fixer

Me: I’ll google it. Unless it’s about women.

I bounce my foot on the floor with nervous energy. I should have never gone to Kinsley’s office. It was a mistake. No, the mistake was not listening to Truman at the bar and talking to her.

Jax: You and me both. Later.

I switch off my cell phone as the door to Truman’s office pops open. Cade, Truman’s right-hand man, steps out and greets me. “Hey, Leo. Have you talked to Jagger?”

“I’m meeting him tonight.” I give Cade a bro hug and step back. Cade and my younger brother, Jagger, served in the military together, and now both work for Truman Security. Okay, Jagger is only two minutes younger than me, but I don’t let him forget it.

Through their military stint, they’ve been through the wringer, but Cade’s wife has been a godsend to him, helping him to heal from his battle scars. My brother was lucky. His scars are only on the inside.

“Perfect, I’ll leave you to him.”

After he disappears onto the elevator, Truman pokes his head through the doorway between his office and the main one. His eyes stop on Wren and linger for a brief second before he turns his attention to me. “Leo.”

“Hello, Old Man.” I nod and rise from the sofa.

One corner of his mouth curves upward. “Come on in. I can’t wait to hear how everything’s going.”

I arch an eyebrow. “As long as you tell me what’s going on with you.”

The humor on his face drops as he pins me in place with a blank stare.Gotcha. That’s what I thought.

His receptionist clears her throat, drops the headset on her desk, stands, and shoves her seat back. “If you don’t need me for anything, I’m going to go to lunch.”

For several seconds, Truman doesn’t respond. Finally, he nods. “I’m leaving the office after I meet with Leo.”

She licks her lips and nods while snatching up her purse. “Have a good day.”

When she doesn’t move, I cringe. “I can–”

“Oh, my gosh, no.” Her face floods with color. “Let me get out of your way.” She speed walks to the elevator without looking back.

“Dude.” I tip my head toward her while giving Truman a questioning look.

“Don’t.” As his eyes darken, his jaw flexes. Without saying another word, he marches to his office. His dress shoes click on the flooring, almost drowning out the dinging of the elevator as it stops.

“Fine.” I chuckle under my breath and follow him.

“Shut the damned door behind you,” he grumbles as he walks past the edge of his desk and settles onto his chair. His desk is piled high with files, and the walls are covered in television screens and computer monitors.

Although we’ve worked together several times, this is my first opportunity to come to his headquarters.

“What’s up with you and your…. Whatever you call her.”

“Nothing.” He straightens and lays his forearms on the desk. The guy is almost ten years older than me, but he could still kick my ass. His black T-shirt, with the company logo stretches against his pecs and biceps.

I settle onto the chair across from him. It has a straight back with little to no cushion. “This seat is uncomfortable.”

Truman’s eyes dance with merriment. “You’re welcome.”

“A good way to keep people off balance?”

“Maybe.”

His years as a Navy SEAL commander have made him one of the best in the private security field. I’d happily work with him more often if I had more time. “It looks like you make your assistant–”

“You’re an asshole.” He glares. “I said nothing is going on.”

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