C.J. Carmichael - Perfect Partners?

“That’s very nice of you to say.” Nadine clicked the mouse and opened a calendar on the computer screen. “Lindsay is booking interviews for Thursday. Right now you have your choice of time slots. Any preferences?”

“The earlier, the better.” Lindsay was a night owl. Best to catch her when her instincts were at their dullest.

“How is nine o’clock?” Nadine’s fine, dark brows rose in consternation. “I’m sorry but Lindsay doesn’t come into the office any earlier.”

“Nine is good.”

She studied him apprehensively, then seemed to come to a decision. “I should warn you. Lindsay can be a little…prickly. That’s why she put that stuff about ‘no attitude’ in the ad. She said we might as well weed out the wimps from the start.” Her gaze swept over him. “But I’m guessing you’re not one of those.”

“I’d like to think not.” He glanced around the offices one more time, trying to get a feel for the place. Trust Lindsay to keep the decorating elements to a bare minimum. She always had been all about the work.

Nadine seemed to sense that he was judging the place and finding it lacking. “Almost surgical, isn’t it? I’m trying to talk Lindsay into some plants. She’s agreed to silk, because they’re low maintenance, but I’m holding firm on real, growing plants.”

Good luck with that, he thought. Obstinacy was another of Lindsay’s stronger traits.

“Well, thanks for your help. I guess I’ll see you Thursday morning.” As he was about to leave, Nadine waved her hand anxiously.

“Oh, I forgot to ask your name.” She smiled sheepishly. “I told you I was new at this.”

He’d been hoping to capitalize on her inexperience, and leave without needing to resort to subterfuge, but now that he’d been asked, he gave her his second name and his mother’s maiden name. He had no doubt Lindsay wouldn’t let him in the front door if he was honest about his identity.

And he wanted in that front door.

He needed to keep a roof over his sister and nephew’s head someway. And his father’s legacy demanded redemption.

Thursday morning

WHEN SHE’D STARTED HER OWN investigative agency, Lindsay Fox had been tempted to combine her office and living space in the same building. Her sister, Meg, had talked her out of that plan.

“You need to make an attempt to separate your work from your private life,” she’d argued, and so Lindsay had acquiesced and rented a one bedroom in a different building…but on the same block.

She figured she had to have one of the easiest commutes in Manhattan, which came in very handy on the mornings when she was off to a slow start—like today.

She’d had another tough night. This was nothing new for a chronic insomniac, but that didn’t make the lack of sleep any easier to deal with. As long as she had time for a cup of coffee before her first appointment of the day, though, she’d be okay.

Heels clicking on the sidewalk, Lindsay took long strides toward her destination. The hazy sky and cool temperatures didn’t bother her—in truth, she hardly noticed that the sunshine and warmth of summer had faded. Today she was hoping to hire a new employee and she had ambivalent feelings about that. She was glad her business was thriving and growing…but she was also concerned about finding the right person for the job. Nadine had been a bit of a risk but she was working out surprisingly well. Could she be so lucky a second time?

Lindsay crossed from the north side of the street to the south. She passed a middle-aged couple who had stopped on the corner to kiss goodbye. As she squeezed past them amid a crowd of other pedestrians, the couple separated and headed in opposite directions. Lindsay turned to the brown brick building on her left, then went up a short flight of stairs to the front door.

Inside was a foyer with a bank of mailboxes on one wall and an elevator on another. Lindsay bypassed both and took the stairs. One flight up and she was in the short corridor that led to Fox Investigations. As soon as she stepped inside, she headed for the coffee station. Nadine was already there, filling a cup for her.

“Thanks, Nadine. That smells wonderful.” Her well-groomed receptionist was wearing a sea-green cashmere sweater and gray trousers, neither of which Lindsay recalled seeing before. This was her third week, and so far she had yet to repeat one outfit.

“How many interviews do we have lined up?” Lindsay asked.

“Um…let me check. I have the schedule here somewhere…”

As Nadine fussed with the computer programs that were still relatively new to her, Lindsay added cream and sugar to her coffee. Today she craved the caffeine even more than ever. Perhaps it was because of the chill in the fall morning. Or maybe it was the light pounding behind her ears. Not a hangover, quite, but close.

“Three interviews,” Nadine said finally.

“Only three?”

“Maybe it was that bit about ‘no attitude.’ Possibly some people found that a little intimidating.”

“If they did, then they don’t belong here.” Damn it, though, she did need to hire someone. And fast. Nadine was making inroads on the backlog of administrative tasks, but if she didn’t get a new investigator soon, she’d be forced to turn away clients.

She’d never expected her business to do so well, so quickly. Just two years she’d been operating and the cases kept coming, most of them referred from her sister’s legal firm, or from her contacts on the police force. Lindsay was determined not to drop the ball on a single case.

“Stanley Hodges is your first applicant and he’ll be here at nine o’clock,” Nadine said.

That gave her just ten minutes. Could she clear her brain-fog by then? She gulped more coffee. “Fine. Send him in when he arrives.”

She retreated to her office with her usual sense of pride and ownership. This was her business. She’d started it from nothing and it was actually thriving. Over the past few weeks Nadine had let her know that she found the decor rather severe. But Lindsay had chosen everything for its functionality. She loved the furniture’s straight lines and the tranquility of the gray color scheme.

Her own desk was glass and stainless steel. She wheeled up her chair and opened the slick, iMac computer to find her favorite news site. Kicking off her shoes, she scanned the local headlines. She’d just relax with her coffee and prepare her thoughts before—

A timid tap on her door interrupted her. She frowned. “Yes?”

Nadine opened the door with an apologetic smile. “Stanley Hodges is here. He’s early, but you said—”

“That’s fine.” Lindsay tamped down her annoyance as she glanced up from the computer screen. “Send him—”

Her throat closed as her mind disconnected from the present and rewound to the past. To the one, frustrating year she’d spent as a member of the New York Police Department.

The man entering her office was lean and muscular, with whiskey-colored hair and eyes a shade lighter than that. Two years ago she’d thought she’d said goodbye to him forever.

“Hey, partner. It’s been a while.”

For a wild moment her stomach dropped and her pulse quickened. Her ex-partner was looking good, but then he always had—if you liked the clean-cut type. Beyond his boy-next-door looks, however, the polite facade, the pressed khakis and button-down blue shirt, Nathan Fisher was a man with lightning reflexes, who kept his body in top physical condition.

For one year they’d spent pretty much all their working hours together. Since she’d quit the force, they hadn’t crossed paths once, by mutual preference.

So what was he doing here now? She gave herself a moment to regain her equilibrium. Calmly she rearranged the papers in front of her, then finally cleared her throat. “Stanley Hodges, I presume?”