Without hesitation, Enoch said, “Big, capable, confident.”
All true. Sahara added, “Plus smart, attentive, motivated.”
Enoch nodded. “The emotional in a nice physical package equals just what you need.”
That gave her pause. “You think I need someone?”
“Sahara,” he chastised. “You know you’ve been one of my favorite people for a very long time.”
“Ditto.” She and Enoch had met prior to her brother’s disappearance, and they’d immediately hit it off. She’d leaned on him after Scott came up missing, and when she inherited the agency shortly after that, she’d asked him to be her assistant.
Best decision she’d ever made, and that was saying something because she didn’t make bad decisions.
She’d grown Body Armor, shifted the focus, given it more clout, more sex appeal—and through every change big and small, Enoch was there helping her to make it a seamless transition.
“You’re also one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. More independent even than Scott.”
“Really?” Crazy how much that flattered her.
“Once Scott made the business successful, he went about enjoying that success.”
He said that like an accusation. “I enjoy the success.”
“No, you always push for more, and that’s fine. Your single-minded drive is a big part of who you are. But you shouldn’t forever go it alone.”
“I have you.”
“Always,” he vowed. “But you should have more than just a friend. I want to see you loosen up a little. Live a little.” He softened his voice. “Share yourself.”
Enoch made it all sound perfectly normal, not at all needy. “You know why I don’t date.”
“That was a long time ago.”
She nodded. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime had passed since the last guy tried to charm his way into the family finances. “Scott always weeded out the users, the men only after my wealth, but now...how can I tell what a man really wants?”
“Oh please.” Disgruntled, Enoch frowned at her. “I respected Scott a lot, you know that. But he was sometimes wrong—especially when he assumed anyone attracted to you was only after your money.”
It didn’t happen every time...just often enough that she stopped trusting herself. She’d been born into money, and was left a healthy inheritance that Scott had expanded exponentially. Money had never been one of her worries—except when it came to knowing which was the bigger draw, her or her wealth. “I am filthy rich, and that’s a powerful lure for a lot of people.”
“You think the money is so important that a man can’t really see you?” He scoffed. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? Trust me, any guy with blood pumping through his veins sees you. And even if he’s not interested in...romance, he’s bound to admire you, respect you, and—”
“Like me?” She often wondered.
It was one of the things she appreciated most about the fighters she’d hired, as well as their close friends. They were friendly to her, but so down-to-earth, capable and self-sufficient, thoughts of benefiting from her wealth never entered their minds. If anything, they seemed to forget she had money and influence.
Enoch’s scowl grew darker. “Of course they like you. You’re beautiful, witty, honorable and, well...” He flapped a hand. “Apply all those accolades we already gave to Mr. Berry because you have them as well.”
“Not his strength.”
With a snort, Enoch said, “I’d match your cunning and determination to his physical strength any day. And that’s the beauty of it—he’s a good counterpart to your personality.”
“I would like to know him better,” she admitted. “Only he won’t let me hire him.”
“Ha! If he worked here, he’d have grounds for sexual harassment charges in no time. You—” he emphasized “—are as nuanced as a tsunami when you want something...or someone.”
In most cases, she saw no reason for nuance. Propping a hip on the desk in her favored position, Sahara idly swung one foot, her shoe dangling off her toes. “I guess that could be a problem, at least until he gives in.”
Enoch shook his head in exasperation.
“But if I can’t hire him, then how should I—”
Squaring his shoulders, Enoch said, “Sleep with him.”
That bald statement coming from her circumspect and very proper assistant caused a smile to tug at her mouth. “Sleep with him to get to know him?”
“For you, it’d be the most expedient way.”
Obviously, she wasn’t averse to the idea, but to hear her friend instructing her... “Enoch, you’re blushing.”
In a low voice, he confided, “I feel like a pimp.”
Sahara laughed. “Not a pimp, but as my best friend and an irreplaceable assistant, you more than anyone can advise me.”
“Then out of concern, let me say: be yourself with him.”
“I’m always myself. Who else would I be?”
He bent a stern look on her. “Sahara.”
Mimicking him, she replied, “Enoch.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’ve taken the role of boss to heart. You know, you don’t always have to be the one in charge, the strong one. Sometimes it’s nice to delegate—or even to lean on someone else.”
No, she didn’t want to do any leaning. “I delegate to you all the time.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“Fine. I promise I’ll try to be myself.” Feeling impulsive, she gave Enoch a hug. He was smaller than her, and in no way resembled the ripped fighters she’d hired as bodyguards to ramp up the agency’s sex appeal. But he didn’t need physical stature to be one of the finest people she’d ever known.
While they were involved in this mutual exchange of respect and admiration, she pressed him back and asked, “How’s Tina?”
Surprise blanked his expression. “You know about her?”
“My number one guy starts a torrid affair and you think I’d miss it?”
He sighed. “It is rather torrid.”
Delighted for him, Sahara grinned.
She’d always known of Enoch’s keen intelligence and aptitude for organization, but in the last year, she’d discovered new depth to her friend.
His loyalty to her, to all innocents, had enabled him to endure terrible abuse—to the point that the thug who’d taken him thought that he had choked Enoch to death.
Thank God, Enoch had hung on.
Remembering that awful time, and how close she’d come to losing someone else she loved, weakened her composure. Her throat felt thick and her eyes got blurry. Squeezing him tighter, Sahara said, “She’s a lucky woman.”
He patted her back, and since he always saw through her, asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Sahara nodded and concentrated on not letting the tears fall. “Yes, thank you.”
Proving his value, Enoch didn’t press her. “You’re welcome. If you need anything, please let me know.”
He’d been more attentive all morning, constantly checking in on her without actually hovering. He’d even brought her an iced and decorated donut with her coffee. “You’re the best, Enoch.”
“I’ll look for proof of that in my next raise.” After winking, he opened the door and announced, “She’ll see you now, Mr. Berry.”
On his way in, Brand said, “You really have to quit calling me that. It makes me feel like I should be in a suit or something.”
Enoch laughed. “All right, I’ll drop the formality.” He leaned close to Brand and said sotto voce, “Take care of her.”
“I plan to.”
Exasperated, Sahara said, “I don’t need anyone to—” The door shut before she could finish her protest. “I swear he does that on purpose.”
Brand was smiling when he turned to her, but the smile slipped. “Hey? You okay?”
She devoured him with her gaze. He looked freshly showered and shaved, and he’d changed into another pair of jeans, this time with a black Henley that fit snug to his wide, hard shoulders, his solid chest, and then fell loose around his tapered waist and flat abs.
Trying for a brisk tone, Sahara asked, “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Maybe because you’ve been through hell, had your life threatened, got mauled by a lunatic, haven’t had any sleep and possibly got false hope about your brother.”