“Well his high-and-mighty sent for me,” Geoff said. “He said he had a one-day assignment for me, something that required my expert skills.”
Daisy lifted her brows in an inquisitive manner. “I certainly don’t like the sound of that.”
“Think he wants me to kill someone?”
Geoff chuckled when he saw the shocked expression on her face.
“I was joking, love. My solider-of-fortune days are long behind me.”
Apparently realizing she was staring at him with a hungry look in her big brown eyes, she dragged her gaze away from his. “You’ll stop by on your way out and give me details, right? I’ll need to know where you’re going, make your flight and hotel reservations and—”
“Monday, what’s holding you up?” Sawyer shouted from where he stood outside his office door.
“See what I mean,” Daisy said quietly. “He’s like a bear with a thorn in his paw.”
“Already missing our Lucie, no doubt.” He leaned over and tickled Daisy under her chin. “See you on my way out.”
Geoff whistled as he walked down the hall. From his experience, he had learned that when there was as much animosity between a man and a woman as there was between Sawyer and Lucie, it usually meant they’d had a personal relationship. A sexual relationship. It certainly didn’t take a genius to pick up on the vibes between the gorgeous Amazonian redhead and Dundee’s CEO. And it was a lot more than the fact that they seemed to hate each other.
By the time Geoff reached Sawyer’s office, the boss had gone back inside, but had left the door open. Geoff paused, peered into the office and grunted. He watched while Sawyer downed the last drops of liquor from his glass: then he picked up the open bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and refilled his glass with the two-hundred-dollar-a-bottle scotch.
“Monday reporting for duty, sir.” Geoff clicked his heels and saluted.
Sawyer glared at him, his hazel brown eyes narrowed to mere slits. “I’d like for you to talk to a man named Taylor Lawson. He’s in Las Vegas right now. You can get the information on where he’s staying from Daisy.” He took a hefty swig of whiskey and made a face as the liquor burned a trail down his throat.
“Yes, sir. Would you mind defining exactly what you mean by talk to him?”
“Scare the shit out of him. Leave a few bruises. But I want this done discreetly. I don’t want any repercussions. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When you finish talking to him, leave him a parting message.”
“And that message is?” Geoff asked.
“Tell him to think twice before he tries to rape another woman.”
Geoff sucked in his breath. Was that what had happened to Lucie? Had a client tried to rape her? “May I ask if this has anything to do with why Lucie resigned from Dundee’s?”
Sawyer’s sharp gaze nailed Geoff to the spot. “That’s none of your concern.” He put the glass to his lips and swigged down another large gulp of scotch.
“You’re knocking back the booze a bit heavy, aren’t you, sir? You don’t want the office staff to see you totally pissed, do you?”
“When I want your advice, Mr. Monday, I’ll ask for it.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get the information I need from Daisy and take the first flight out—”
“Take the Dundee jet. Have Daisy authorize the flight. I want this taken care of tonight.”
“Do you want me to report in directly to you when the mission is accomplished?”
“Yes. You have my home number. I don’t care what time it is.”
“Yes, sir, I have your home number and your mobile number.”
With a half-full glass of whiskey in his hand, Sawyer turned his back on Geoff and walked to the wall of windows that overlooked the town center, effectively dismissing his employee.
LUCIE EVANS WAS the only person on earth who could drive him to drink. The last time he had gotten fall-on-his-face drunk, Lucie had been the cause. Sawyer stared at the bottle of Johnnie Walker on his desk, then down at the empty glass in his hand. He’d had enough, more than enough. He probably couldn’t walk a straight line and he sure as hell couldn’t drive himself home, but he was sober enough to feel guilty. Damn her for making him feel this way.
He had sent her off on her latest assignment, as he had many times over the years, knowing full well that she’d hate every minute of it. But if he’d had any idea that Lawson would try to rape Lucie…He wanted five minutes alone with the guy. Five minutes. But he didn’t dare handle this himself. He might actually kill Lawson. No, better to allow an expert like Monday to put the fear of God into the scumbag who had attacked Lucie.
She’s gone for good, now. You finally got what you’ve wanted ever since she followed you here to Atlanta and Ellen Denby hired her as a Dundee agent.
When he had resigned from the FBI and Sam Dundee had offered him a job, he had believed he would be starting a new life, a Lucie Evans-free life. He’d been in California on an assignment when Ellen hired Lucie, otherwise he might have been able to dissuade her or perhaps convince Sam that Lucie wasn’t any more Dundee material than she’d been FBI material.
“Why are you doing this?” he had asked her. “Why can’t you leave well enough alone and stay out of my life?”
“Because I love you,” she’d told him. Straightforward and to the point. “And I believe that deep down under all the pain and guilt you feel, you still love me.”
She’d been wrong. He didn’t love her. He had never loved her.
Sawyer set the glass on his desk, flopped down in his leather chair and huffed out a deep, exasperated breath. He loosened his silk tie and undid the top button of his linen shirt.
If he knew Lucie, she didn’t have a nest egg socked away for a rainy day. She lived in the moment. Always had. She was generous to her friends and a sucker for every sob story she heard. She gave away too much of her hard-earned money to charities she believed in, those for women, children and animals.
He’d see to it that she received a generous bonus from Dundee’s. He could also shred her letter of resignation and have Daisy report that she was laid off, that way she could at least draw unemployment.
You can do better than that. You can give her a glowing recommendation. Or he could make a phone call and get her a new job.
“That’s it.” When he tried to snap his fingers, he realized he was drunker than he’d thought. He couldn’t seem to make his fingers cooperate.
He picked up the interoffice phone and hit the office manager’s number. When she answered on the second ring, he said, “Daisy, look up Cara Bedell’s phone number for me. Her office number. She should still be there.”
He waited while Daisy found the information he had requested. When she recited the number, he jotted it down quickly. After taking a steadying breath, he dialed Cara’s number. Her secretary answered.
“This is Sawyer McNamara from the Dundee Agency. I’d like to speak to Ms. Bedell.”
“Just a moment, sir.”
A couple of minutes later, Cara came on the line. “Mr. McNamara, what can I do for you?”
“You can tell your new security chief to hire one of my former employees.”
“I take it that you didn’t fire this person, otherwise you’d hardly be recommending him to me.”
“Her. It’s Lucie Evans. You remember Ms.