Page 4 of Kiss Kiss Bang
CHAPTER TWO
It looks like the race for Florida governor is becoming too much for Olivia Russo, who is currently ahead in the polls. Last night, Russo was seen having a full-blown meltdown in the middle of Better Made Electronics. In the first photo you can see Russo, usually sharply dressed, wearing sweatpants, her hair disheveled. In the next photo . . .
Twenty minutes earlier, Joey had been standing in the office upstairs going through CCTV footage of a recent string of store robberies when he’d looked up at the screen and saw her. She was a disaster. People were looking at her and shaking their heads as she tried to balance her laptop with one hand and grab something out of her purse with the other. Her clothes were too big on her, but he could still see the outline of a shapely body. Her dark hair was bundled on her head, except for a strand that had fallen over one eye, and she kept biting her lower lip. When her computer flew out of her hand and onto the floor he watched her sit down in the middle of the line. Then her shoulders began to shake.
From the camera’s perspective it looked like she was sobbing.
For some inexplicable reason, he felt the need to go to her aid. He stopped what he was working on and jogged downstairs, and was confronted with a woman hysterically . . . laughing. Her laughter was infectious, even though she was obviously having a complete meltdown on the floor of the store. She looked vaguely familiar but he wasn’t sure why until she said her name. Then it immediately clicked. The hot gubernatorial candidate running against the sonofabitch Harry McGregor, who was the sonofabitch responsible for Joey’s inability to go fishing.
On the way to Iron-Clad Security he quickly pulled up his phone to check on the last-minute job he was signed up to do the following night. He chuckled to himself when he saw her name as one of the speakers.
And now here he was, parking at ICS as Olivia followed him in her car, wishing he’d spent as much energy researching her as he had fucking with Governor McGregor over the last few months.
Joey had a shit ton of work to do and helping this woman was not on the list. But those green eyes and thick pink lips . . . yeah, he’d help her all right. And then after that, he’d ask her out. Because he hadn’t been lying when he told her he was no Prince Charming. The lustful thoughts he’d had the instant he’d laid eyes on her were not something out of a fairy tale.
He wished he was more tuned in to politics so he’d know more about her. The extent of his political knowledge revolved around the fact that he hadn’t been able to go fishing for the last three months because of the toxic blue-green algae that was overtaking the bay and killing off the wildlife.
When he arrived at ICS, he parked his car in his usual spot and hopped right out, hoping to open her door for her. But she was already out of her car. “You drive too fast,” she said, closing the door of her white four-door Lexus. She eyed his flashy red Ferrari and rolled her eyes.
“I promised you I’d have you walking outta here in a new laptop in an hour. Needed to hurry up. Clock’s ticking.”
She smiled coyly and followed him in as she looked around. “This isn’t making me feel better about my decision to leave with a stranger. You should know that I called my friend from my car and gave her all your information. If I’m not back home soon, she’s been instructed to call the police. And I took a photo of your card and your tag and sent it to her.”
“Good girl. You should get into security. If you’re ever looking for a job . . .”
“Ha ha.” But she was looking at the mostly deserted parking lot, not at him. The night was warm, as were most nights in Miami. There wasn’t even the slightest breeze, and they were far from any major streets, so it was also eerily quiet. Of course she would be wary. ICS was in an enormous warehouse surrounded by more warehouses in a neighborhood that on a Friday night was mostly empty.
He chuckled because he knew exactly what she was thinking. “It’ll get better, you’ll see. I promise we’re a reputable establishment.”
Once he opened the door for her, he knew exactly what she’d find: Top-of-the-line everything, leather furniture in the reception area, sleek wood-and-glass desks, marble floors, and exposed beams.
“Come on.” He led her through a hall lined with maps and world clocks, all with accurate times. They passed the ‘situation room’ where Jax, his best friend and business partner, was currently manning an extraction of a bond runner in Nicaragua. “There’s my partner, Jax Iron. He owns half of ICS.” He continued to walk toward his office as he spoke, wondering if the fact that there were other people at the office, even at this late hour, made her feel a little more at ease.
“And this is my office.” He held the door open for her and she stepped inside. “Have a seat. Get comfy.” He pointed to the couch at the left side of the room instead of the chairs in front of his desk. “You want something to drink or anything?”
She didn’t sit. Instead she walked around looking at the screens on the walls. One of them was a television set, which was currently off. The other two were surveillance. One had a set of quadrants, all in black and white, of different jobs they were currently surveilling. There was someone monitoring things at all times, but he liked to keep his finger on the pulse. The other just had numbers running across the screen. “No, thank you,” she said, not seeming to be listening to him. She seemed enthralled by the monitor. “What’s this?”
Slowly he walked to where she stood and touched the screen. She stiffened when she felt him reaching past her from behind. With his thumb and forefinger, he enlarged some of the small numbers. “I follow the stock market.” She turned her head back at him, her eyebrows furrowed. “Carefully,” he added, then she looked back at the screen.
“So do I. I’ve never seen anything that looks like this, though.”
“No. Probably not. It’s a program I developed to help me pull out specifically what I ask it to. It monitors certain factors on a global scale.”
He stepped away because damn, she smelled good. He wondered what her hair would feel like. The woman had a ton of hair and he was tempted to reach for the hair tie and pull it loose. But if he wanted a chance with her, he had to make her feel comfortable, which meant fixing the computer and sending her on her way. Not touching her hair, and definitely not leaning down and smelling her neck, or nibbling at her shoulder, or . . .
He shook his head and went to his desk before he did something stupid.
“You could probably sell that and make millions.”
“Probably.” He shrugged. He already had millions. She continued to look at the screen, her back to him. “So, you’re into stocks?” he asked.
What a lame question, he thought. He wanted to stab himself with the stapler on his desk. He flipped her laptop over, not bothering to even open it. He took out the kit he kept in his drawer and quickly unscrewed the bottom and took out the motherboard.
“No, not really. I have some stocks but I have a broker who manages it. I’m not really good at it.” He felt, rather than saw, her get close to the desk. “Uh . . . whatcha doing there?”
“Working,” he said, disassembling the case. “Be right back.” He jogged to the warehouse at the back of the building, grabbed what he needed, and came right back. She hadn’t moved and was biting her nails. He reached forward and pulled her hand away from her mouth and shook his head soothingly. At least he hoped it was soothing. He wanted her to relax. He was sure he could fix this and retrieve whatever she needed. “So, tell me about this speech you’ve got tomorrow.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s a big fundraiser and I’m going to talk about my budget plans.”
