Jonathan seemed to sober a bit.
“Good luck,” he said. She nodded, turning on her heel. She paused long enough to say something to the trainer.
“And his hair is too shaggy.”
Then she was gone.
* * *
NIKKI TAPPED HER heel against the ceramic tile and desperately wanted not one but several more drinks. She didn’t often indulge in alcohol, but tonight of all nights she found her nerves craved it. Looking at the people around her, all in varying physical descriptors, ethnicities, ages and interests, she questioned why she was even there.
Was there not another way?
Was this her last option?
Would this even work?
“—so I have to stay in perfect shape all the time,” the man across the table from her said, obviously proud. “How could I help people sculpt the perfect bodies if their fitness instructor didn’t have one, too?”
Nikki’s need for another drink was almost as great as the mass of the man’s biceps. She gave him a polite smile that she hoped wouldn’t be construed as romantic interest. The man might have been attractive, but in the two minutes they’d had to talk he hadn’t once asked her a question. If Nikki had wanted to sit in silence, she would have stayed at home instead of coming out to a speed-dating event.
“I actually had a woman come up to me after class and say I changed her life with my w—”
A bell went off and Nikki nearly clapped. The man seemed upset he couldn’t finish his “stories of me,” but she had no doubt he’d continue them with the woman at the next table. He didn’t say goodbye as he stood up and started to leave. Nikki took the opportunity to pull her phone out of her purse and check the time.
Her thoughts jumped to the man back at Orion who had clearly made the accusation that she didn’t know what passion was. Even though she’d known Jackson Fields probably wasn’t the best conversationalist, she’d been surprised at his quickness to undercut her subtle accusation with one of his own. Those blue-gray eyes hadn’t backed down and hadn’t submitted. In his short rebuttal about “passion” he’d been passionate.
Nikki sighed.
He’d also been right about his assumption of her lacking passion.
But maybe, just maybe, tonight would help with that side of her life.
Before she could leave thoughts of him behind, she pictured him again. Even though he’d been shirtless, showcasing a tan and a toned chest, it was his smile that had first caught her attention. Despite his past, it had been strong, showing a man who looked confident, even if his dirty blond hair shagged out over his ears and his cut jaw had sported a little more than a five o’clock shadow. She’d bet he hadn’t been expecting to actually get offered the job. Or else, hopefully, he would have tried to look a bit more kempt. Though she hadn’t necessarily been put off by his appearance, either, shirt or not.
Nikki shook her head, trying to sling off the snapshots of his body. Tonight wasn’t about him or work. It was about Nikki and trying to find someone she could laugh with, share some quality time with. Someone compatible who didn’t scare easily when she told him she ran an agency of muscled men who had protected hundreds of people over the years.
She put her phone back in her purse and pasted on a smile as someone cleared his throat, bringing her attention to the new man in front of her.
She froze.
This man was definitely not the one she was looking for.
“I know we’re supposed to tell each other good things about ourselves in the hope of making a meaningful connection in the next two minutes,” he started. “But how about instead I use that time to tell you about all the things wrong with you?” He gave a smile. It sent ice through her. “What do you say to that, Miss Waters?”
Jackson couldn’t believe his stupidity. How he hadn’t put two and two together that the redhead in heels and leather pants was the famous Nikki Waters whom Jonathan had mentioned, he didn’t know.
She was so distracting, he thought, trying to take it easy on himself. The way she had moved and talked was nothing but confidence and power. He’d dated many women before who had also held their own, but there was something different about the redhead.
Snap out of it, Jackson! You need this job, and that’s your boss.
He walked into his apartment and straight into the shower. The culmination of his workout and meeting the woman—with a bad first impression to boot—had created the need to cool off. He cleared his mind as much as he could while the water ran over him. It helped for the most part. Jackson got out, toweled off and managed to make it through two beers before any thoughts of the woman popped up again.
Jonathan had been honest with him at their meeting. The boss was made aware of his past before she decided to hire him. His criminal history—which wasn’t that bad in his opinion—would show up on the background check. There was no avoiding that...but did she know the rest?
Did she know about his father?
On cue, the echoes of the past shrieked across his memory.
He took a long pull of his drink and tried not to remember. It had been years. He’d grown up, moved away and survived it all.
Nikki Waters had, for whatever reason, given him a second chance. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.
* * *
ANDREW MILLER LOOKED no different than the last time she’d seen him. Chestnut hair, thick and falling at his chin, always tucked behind his ears. A jaw that was well defined and always cleanly shaven and lips plump yet not overly so. He had eyes that were brown, hooded by brows that were perfectly groomed. His clothes might have changed colors but not style. Even after everything he’d been through, he was still dressed as if he were going out to the opera when in actuality he was sitting at a restaurant that she knew for a fact hosted karaoke on Tuesdays. But Andrew wouldn’t care about a small detail like that. He knew he looked good and wanted others to know it, too.
The cold that had surrounded Nikki quickly melted.
Then heated up even more.
“What are you doing—” she’d started to hiss when he held up his hand.
“Nikki, why don’t you let me go first?”
Andrew leaned back a fraction in his chair to appear nonchalant. But there was nothing nonchalant about him being there. In Dallas. In the bar. Right in front of her.
No. This was wrong.
“On the outside you appear to be compassionate, thoughtful, driven. Traits that are hailed as a trinity that, together, can ultimately create a good person. What you exude is a persona that many would pay for, fight for. You inspire, you rally, you persevere.” His small smile started to drip down his chin. “But I know who and what you really are.”
“And what’s that?” she asked, no fear, just rising anger.
“You’re an opportunist. A vulture waiting, circling its prey in hopes of devouring everything it’s ever worked for—everything it’s accomplished.” His jaw muscles tightened. He was baring his teeth.
She wasn’t the only one warring with anger.
“Everything I’ve accomplished,” he snarled.