Susan Mallery - A Little Bit Pregnant

“Maybe it’s not people. Maybe it’s you.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Easy for you to say. You delegate all the annoying stuff to me.”

“One of the perks of the job.” He waved a folder. “I have some exciting news.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Sure you do.”

“Nicki. I’m not kidding. But I’m not going to tell you until I see the proper level of enthusiasm.”

She drew in a breath and clutched both hands to her chest. “Oh, Zane. Exciting news? I just can’t wait.” Her voice was a falsely high pitch that could have called dogs from three states away. “Wait. I’m all flustered. Let me sit down and recover for a second.”

She fluttered her fingers and quivered in her chair.

He chuckled, then sank into the seat by her desk. “It’s not the world that’s annoying,” he told her. “It’s you.”

“Sell it somewhere else. What have you got?”

He handed her the top folder. “New client. An Italian banker. I’m going to be talking to him about setting up a better security plan for his family.”

Nicki’s green eyes widened. “Will you be visiting him yourself?”

“I just may. And if I do, I’ll need an assistant.”

She flipped through the pages and smiled. “I love Italy. It’s so beautiful and do they know how to make wine or what? I haven’t been in years.”

“Did you go with your folks?”

“When I was in high school. Then I went with a bunch of friends while I was in college.”

“With a guy?”

She raised her eyebrows. “There might have been a man or two in the group. I simply can’t remember.”

“Liar.”

“Are you inquiring about my sex life?”

“Absolutely.”

She pretended to be shocked. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

“I’m not interested in the kissing. Do it anywhere interesting?”

“I’m not into public displays of affection, thank you very much.” She closed the folder. “My big complaint is that despite promises to the contrary, not one man in Italy pinched my butt.”

He shook his head. “Did you ever think it might have something to do with you being in a wheelchair? It’s not exactly easy to pinch when the butt in question is planted on a seat. You should have worn your braces a couple of days and given the guys a chance.”

“Good point. Honestly, I never thought it would be worth the effort.”

“That’s because you haven’t had your butt pinched by a professional.”

“Are you offering?”

“It’s not my fantasy, but I could ask around if you’d like.”

Nicki pushed the folder toward him. “You are too weird for words. Yes, if asked, I will accompany you to Italy. Now get out of here. Unlike the rest of you, I have actual work that needs to be done.”

The Friday morning planning meeting lasted over two hours. As per the usual schedule, the least pressing clients were discussed first, leaving the most time for those with the largest and most imminent problems.

Oil executives stationed in the Middle East should know better than to make political statements, Nicki thought as she listened to Jeff outline the situation. There had been daily threats against George Westron and his family ever since he’d told an AP reporter that most of the area’s problems could be solved if people simply practiced Christian values.

But the man being an idiot didn’t mean he should be killed by a car bomb or that his family should suffer, either.

Jeff passed Nicki copies of the threats left on the Westron’s front porch. She scanned the block letters taken from various magazines and newspapers, then glued into words and sentences.

“Obviously there is an entire international task force working on that,” he told her. “But see what you can do.”

Nicki nodded. She wasn’t an expert, but she had contacts who were. People outside of mainstream law enforcement. Sometimes she got lucky. She also noted a list of information Jeff wanted cross-referenced.

“There are two children,” Zane said, when Jeff had finished. “Twelve and ten.”

Nicki winced. She hated when kids were in danger. “Tell me they’re not still going to school.”

He nodded. “It’s private. We have two guys with them the entire day.”

She shook her head. While she understood the need to keep kids’ lives as normal as possible, the knowledge that they were out in the open, exposed put a knot in her stomach.

Zane didn’t look any happier than she felt. He shrugged. “I sent in Mathews and Gorson.”

Some of her tension eased. Those two were great with kids and seemed to have a sixth sense about danger. Zane would have chosen them for that reason. He sweated when kids were in danger, too. Jeff worried, but he had kids of his own so she expected it. The same level of concern from Zane always left her weak in the knees…figuratively and literally.

She reminded herself she should be looking for reasons not to like Zane, not more excuses to fall harder for the guy. But it was difficult to dislike him. He was too close to perfect for her comfort.

Jeff finished up his report and asked for questions. When there weren’t any, he reminded them that there was a new batch of bodyguards starting training on Monday, so they needed to stay sharp.

Nicki knew that new recruits were often ambushed while walking through the halls of the company. Once a fake terrorism team had invaded and taken hostages. She’d been caught in a standoff for nearly a half hour, which wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t been on her way to the bathroom in the first place. She made a mental note to be more careful about her water consumption during the next few weeks.

Brenda, Jeff’s fifty-something assistant, rose and glared at her boss. “I can’t believe you didn’t consider my application. Again.”

Zane glanced at Nicki and grinned. “Here we go,” he murmured.

Brenda’s desire to be a real live spy was an ongoing source of humor in the office.

Jeff rose and patted her on the arm. “Brenda, I can’t risk losing you. Not only would your husband kill me, but the office would fall apart. You’re too valuable for field work.”

“That’s a crock and you know it,” she said, following him from the room. “Come on, Jeff. Just give me a chance.”

Nicki watched her go. “I’m always torn,” she admitted to Zane as the rest of the staff filed out of the conference room. “On the one hand I know Jeff is right—Brenda does keep things running smoothly. But on the other hand, she should be allowed to live up to her potential.”

“She would never pass the physical.”

“Fine. Then let her take it and fail. At least she would have had the chance.”

Zane didn’t look convinced, which made Nicki suspicious. “You and Jeff are afraid she will pass and then you’d have to let her into the program. You know she’d kick butt once she was accepted.”

“You’re a troublemaker.”

“I prefer to think of myself as a rebel. Sort of like a freedom fighter for people who are being oppressed by those in power. Those who have never—”

The phone on the table buzzed. “Nicki, you have a call on line three.”

“Thank God,” Zane muttered. “I couldn’t stand another one of those speeches on the oppressed.”

“I’m not finished with you,” she said as she picked up the receiver.”

“This is Nicki,” she said, then felt her mood deflate when she heard Boyd’s voice. He wasn’t the kind of guy who checked in during the day “just because.” Which meant there was only one reason he was calling.

“I’m really sorry I can’t make it tonight,” he told her. “But with Stan quitting, the project is at risk. I don’t want it to fall behind.”

He went on about some particularly complex problem that made no sense to her after the first three words. When he paused for breath, she spoke up.