Murder Under Cover

“All right.” Lee motioned for Robin, saying, “Let’s do this.” She escorted Robin halfway down the hall before turning back to me and Derek. “We’ll probably be another half hour.”

 

 

Then she led Robin into Sharon’s small office and closed the door, leaving Derek and me with nothing to do but wait. And worry. Which I was really good at. At the moment, my mind was racing back and forth among every possible bad situation Robin might face.

 

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Derek suggested, interrupting my anxious thoughts. “I’ll buy you something to eat.”

 

“I could eat,” I allowed, and he grinned. Derek was well aware of my capacity to eat anytime, night or day. I loved food. All kinds of food. I wasn’t picky. You’d think I was starved as a child.

 

I grabbed my jacket, then tracked down Sharon in her bedroom and told her we’d be back in twenty minutes if anyone was interested.

 

Outside, the weather was sunny, cold, and breezy, but I didn’t mind the chill after being cooped up inside Sharon’s apartment for half the day.

 

Deciding on coffee and maybe a muffin, we headed over to a bakery I knew of on Twenty-fourth Street, a few blocks away. In deference to Robin, we decided to hold off eating lunch. But coffee and pastry didn’t count as real food.

 

We held hands as we walked, and Derek talked about the morning he’d spent at his new offices. He’d recently opened a branch of Stone Security in San Francisco, which meant that from now on, he would be commuting between here and London, as well as flying all over the world wherever and whenever his services were required.

 

In his London, Berlin, and Rome offices, there was a combined staff of almost nine hundred, and forty of them had made the initial move with Derek to San Francisco. They were still bringing in furniture, arranging for services and vendors, and setting up all the myriad processes and functions and staffing it took to run a successful company in a strange new land.

 

I’d never asked and he’d never mentioned whether he’d relocated here to be closer to his clients in the Pacific Rim countries or to me. Maybe it would be presumptuous to ask, but I was hoping it was all about me. After all, he seemed happy to be living in my home with me. But I guessed it was also a smart business decision to have an office on the West Coast, since he had clients on both sides of the Pacific Ocean. I’d decided not to ask him. Not yet, anyway, because he would’ve told me the truth. I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it.

 

Sometimes I couldn’t believe we had actually become so involved with each other. Derek resembled something out of a James Bond film, and by that I mean he truly resembled James Bond. Any Bond. Take your pick. Derek, of course, was better-looking, tougher, and classier than any of them. He was also loyal, bold, straightforward, and very, very hot. The first time I’d ever seen him, I was reminded of a sleek panther stalking its prey. At the time, I’d had the uneasy feeling that the prey just might be me.

 

Did I mention that he carried a gun? He did. He also made me laugh. I guessed I kept him laughing, too. I just had to trust he was laughing with me. He made me feel feminine and petite—not that I was Quasimodo or anything, but at five-foot-nine, I wasn’t exactly elfin. Lucky for me he was six feet, two inches of blue twisted steel. Okay, the blue twisted steel was a bit of an exaggeration. But the part about being hot? No exaggeration there.

 

And it sounds weird to say it, but he just plain liked me. And I liked him. A lot.

 

From his positive description of things in his new offices, it was clear that his partners and personnel were settling in nicely after more than a month of flux.

 

“You’ve been busy,” I said, “but it sounds like your assistant may be the real hero.”

 

“Corinne is invaluable,” he said. “I would be lost without her. I wasn’t even sure she would come with me, but she surprised me. Told me she and her husband decided they wanted an adventure.”

 

“They sound like an interesting pair.”

 

“They are. You’ll meet them both next Saturday.”

 

“I will?”

 

“I hope so. We’re having a party to celebrate the official opening of the San Francisco offices. We wouldn’t ordinarily schedule an office event on a Saturday night, but my partners are flying over from London, and a number of clients are coming in from out of town. We’re inviting vendors, staff, friends, lovers.” He raised one rakish eyebrow and flashed me a smile.

 

“Is that an invitation?” I asked.

 

“I’m not about to go without you.”

 

“Sounds like fun,” I said casually, while I secretly felt all squishy and blissful because he’d invited me. Maybe I would slap myself later for being such a twit, but right now I smiled and reveled in the joy of it all. “I’d love to see your offices.”