Page 67 of The Fix Is In (Torus Intercession 4)
Lifting his head up off the desk, I got a trace of a smile before the call was ended.
“Wow,” Benji said, chuckling and turning to me. “Your boss is way scary.”
“Yeah, I know,” I agreed, “but he’s also––”
“And way hot.”
I forgot about defending my boss and scowled instead. “I’m sorry?”
“Come on”—he was staring at me like I was nuts—“that is a stunning man. Holy crap, no wonder Sian was hoping he’d come here himself.”
“Listen––”
“And Rais looked like his day job was walking a runway in Milan,” he went on, turning back to the produce he’d been perusing before the call. “Are all the guys in your office hot? Is it a prerequisite or something?”
“I don’t think––”
“Owen too. Holy cow. Those emerald eyes of his, and auburn hair, and the adorable freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. My goodness.”
“Ella isn’t a guy,” was all I could think of to say. “And Owen is a child.”
“I bet Ella is drop-dead gorgeous too, and Owen is so not a child,” he assured me. “He’s gotta be what, twenty-three, twenty-four?”
“I don’t—why’re we talking about Owen?”
“Because you just said Owen was a child, and he’s clearly not.”
I thought a moment. “I suppose we all think of him as a kid because that’s how Jared treats him. We’re following his lead.”
“Well, you and the rest of your colleagues should stop, and as for Jared, he needs to open his eyes, because yes, Owen is young, but he’s definitely a man, not a boy. Jared should treat him accordingly.”
“I don’t know what Jared sees when he looks at Owen.” He didn’t answer, and when I glanced at him, his head was tipped, and he was studying me. “What’s with the face?”
“I think it’s nice that you’re worried about Owen.”
“I am so not worried about Owen,” I argued.
He nodded. “My mistake.”
“Don’t placate me,” I grumbled.
Stepping into my space, he put both hands on my chest. “I think you’re a very kind man with a great big heart, so stop trying to convince me you don’t care about Owen.”
“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” I groused at him. “Let’s finish this so we can go home already.”
“As soon as we get some fruit, we can go,” he replied, giving me a pat before moving away from me. “And more eggs. Do you like spinach at all?”
“I want to go.”
“And I want to feed you so you can see I’m multifaceted and you’ll stay here even if the FBI tells you they’ve got everything under control.”
Taking hold of his arm, I turned him gently around to face me. “I am not leaving you until there is no longer a threat to your life.”
“I know you say that, but things are different now. Something could happen.”
“Like what?”
“Like, for instance, what if Special Agent Parish tells you that the person they’ve taken into custody has to have been the one targeting me?”
I nodded. “You know, up until yesterday, you didn’t think a person was targeting you, you thought a ghost was.”
“Up until yesterday, I thought I was a victim of some random occurrences as well as a spectral attack, which I reiterate could actually still be the case.”
“Really?” I almost whined.
“As I’m clearly the only one who saw Agent Sears and didn’t wish him harm, and who didn’t want to keep it a secret that I saw him, I am convinced he reached out from beyond the veil to speak to me.”
“Not from the grave?”
“I think the whole problem is that he’s not at rest and therefore has no grave,” he explained. “He needs his family to be able to mourn him.”
“Okay,” I relented. “How about this. I won’t leave here until we both know exactly what happened to Agent Sears and the guilty party is in custody.”
His smile was brilliant and made those gorgeous eyes of his gleam with happiness. “Yes, that’s a deal,” he said with a deep sigh. “Now really, how do you feel about spinach?”
We were so not leaving the store anytime soon.
Once we were outside loading up the rental, my phone beeped with a notification. Checking it, I saw that there was a report of an interruption of monitoring.
“What the hell does that mean?” I growled as we sat in the car.
I couldn’t get the camera feed to work, so I checked the cloud instead.
“Why aren’t we moving?” Benji asked.
“Because something’s up at your house.”
“Could you perhaps expound on that?”
“I’m checking,” I answered, swiping to get to the menu I needed. “Usually you get a notification that someone is at the door or is trying to break in or—oh,” I breathed out, surprised to see a man with a black ski mask in front of the house with something in his hand that I was certain was a jamming device. The panel that Rais had installed earlier in the day had lost connection and instantly let me know.
