Page 20 of Nanny for the SEALs

“Back to the questions,” I said pointedly. “Why did you sneak into our suite last night?”

Heather sat up a little straighter in her restraints. “Because fuck rich people, that’s why. You have all that yummy food and drinky drinks in your suite and won’t share them with anyone else. Our seats were awful. Oh my God, they wereso high up,it sucked. My friend Maurice couldn’t see LeBron. He has a big crush on King James. He calls him Bron Bron. Oh, I should mention that he’s gay. My friend Maurice, not LeBron. Maurice loves dick. He wantsallthe dicks in his mouth.”

Brady busted out laughing behind me. “I knew I caught him eyeing me last night.”

“Can you blame him?” Heather asked. “You guys are hot. Not right now, with all this camo bullshit covering your muscles. But last night, wearing those suits? Like a bunch of sexy secret service agents? Mmm hmm. Come tomama.”

Once again, I felt myself harden at the way she was smiling lustily. My eyes drifted down to the skin-tight jeans and the blouse that showed just alittlebit of cleavage. She was leaning forward, and I could see the curve of her breasts, the same breasts that were smashed against my chest last night…

I shook it off and returned my gaze to her big, round eyes. “Good to know,” I said simply. “Why—”

“Maurice says I’m not as dirty as him,” Heather continued to ramble. “But I can be when I want to. He doesn’t even know. I just need the right guy. I’d probably let the three of you do whatever you want with me. Within reason, I mean. I wouldn’t do any weird stuff. Like foot fetishes. Who the hell looks at a foot and thinks,aww yeah, I want to jizz all over those toes?Not trying to judge anyone’s kinks, but I just don’t get it.” She licked her lips and then muttered, “I’d let Idris Elba jizz on my toes. But only him.”

Brady was laughing so hard he had to walk away. Even Asher was struggling to suppress a grin. Me, I was sick of all the games and wanted to finish the questioning.

“You’re a good kisser,” Heather blurted out to me. Her eyes were bright and challenging. “Where’d you learn to kiss so good? Do they teach that in Big Beefy Security School?”

Brady stopped laughing. “Hold the phone. You two kissed?”

“Let’s focus on the suite,” I said emphatically. “I get why you wanted to sneak into one. Because fuck rich people. But why did you pickoursuite?”

“We saw Jonah Weiman walk out of there. Maurice—my friend who likes dick, I think I mentioned him—Maurice has submitted headshots to The Weiman Agency a bunch of times. But he’s never heard back from them. We thought if we snuck inside, we could talk to Jonah and convince him to represent us.”

She sighed and slumped her shoulders. “We’re both unrepresented. That means we don’t have an agent. It sucks. It’s tougher to get roles that way. Mr. Howard sometimes gets us auditions, but it’s not the same as having arealagent. Did I tell you about Mr. Howard? He was on a soap opera in the nineties.” She paused. “I don’t know if he likes dick or not. I think he used to be married.”

“We don’t need to know about Eugene Howard,” I said.

“Hey!” Heather said. “You know his first name! Careful, he doesn’t like to be called Eugene. Can’t blame him. That’s a silly name. But fun to say. Eugene. Yew-geen.YOO-gene.”

“See?” Brady said to me. “This girl doesn’t know anything. It’s all a misunderstanding, like I said.”

He was right. This girl was exactly who she said she was: an aspiring actress working a minimum-wage job on the side, who snuck into our suite by coincidence. She wasn’t sent by one of our competitors to make us look bad.

But there was one other thing nagging me, and I wanted to hear what she said while she was loose-lipped. “You insulted our security agency last night. In front of several clients. It was one of the last things you said before leaving. Why did you do that?”

“Because I was lashing out at everyone, and sometimes there’s collateral damage,” she replied. “And frankly, I was right. It’s embarrassing that we were able to sneak in and mingle for as long as we did. You handle the security stuff for athletes and celebrities, right? What if Maurice and I were assassins sent to kill Jonah Weiman?” Her eyes widened. “Oh! That would besucha good script idea! Outback servers by day, assassins by night! Maurice’s specialty would be knives, whereas I specialize in poisoning my targets…”

“I’d watch that,” Brady said. “Do you have skin-tight costumes?”

“Duh,” Heather said. “How else would we dodge the laserbeam security systems?”

I rose and nodded to Asher. “I think we’re done here.”

Asher bent down to his container of supplies and prepared another syringe. Heather twisted her head to watch him, and she slowly began shaking her head.

“No, no, no. Please don’t kill me. Let me live, please! I know I’ve seen your faces, which is kind of a no-no, but I promise not to tell anyone.”

“Relax,” Asher said while wiping another spot on her arm. “This is a barbiturate neutralizer. To cancel the effects of the sodium thiopental. We’re not going to kill you.”

She leaned away from the needle. “Earlier you said you wanted to kill me.”

“Oh.” Asher pursed his lips. “I was attempting to make a joke. I suppose it was not received the way I intended. Now, relax. You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

She allowed the needle into her arm. “Feel better? Mr. Blue, I feelgreat. I bet you feel great, too. Take off these handcuffs so I can touch you.” She twisted in the chair to try to grab him with her restrained hands, fingers squeezing at the air.

I walked away and chuckled to myself. Brady was right: this girl was feisty. She was perfect for what we intended, now that we knew she wasn’t a spy from a rival security agency.

But I couldn’t help wondering if we were biting off more than we could chew.

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