She wanted this job. She deserved this job.
But the desk would have to go. Ever since Kim had told her that she and Jake had shagged on top of that particular piece of furniture, she'd never been able to look at it the same way. Now she shook her head to dispel the disturbing mental image.
"Is there a problem?" Jake asked.
"Just wondering if I should order myself a new desk. I know what's happened on top of that one and I'm not sure I want it in my office."
"Not your office yet." He sat forward and gave her a long, hard look. The sort of look that would have made her squirm … had she been the squirmy type. "And if the report I got from the Jennings job is anything to go by, it never will be."
Bloody hell. She should have known Gary would tattle. He was the other person in the running for the CEO position. "Jennings is an asshole."
"Perhaps. But did you really have to tell him that?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Along with informing him that if he touched her ass one more time she'd shoot him herself. Life was too short to take that sort of crap.
Jake studied her for what seemed an age, and she held herself very still. "Sit down, Jess."
She sat.
"You do know that a big part of my job is keeping the clients happy?" he said.
She stiffened her spine and sat up straighter in the chair. This conversation wasn't heading anywhere good. "Yes."
"Well, the problem is, I'm not even sure we'll have any clients left if I put you in charge. Jennings isn't the first you've upset. You're too … confrontational."
"I haven't called anyone else an asshole." Well, not for a while anyway.
Jake ignored the interruption. "I've known you a long time, and you've always been the same-hard as nails and pretty screwed up as far as men are concerned. It hasn't mattered, and it was none of my business. It matters now."
That was bad news. "It does?"
"Yes. If you're serious about wanting this job. Whatever happened to you in the past, you need to get over it. Let it go and move on." He sat back. "Okay, lecture over, but you get one more chance-upset this client and you'll make Gary a very happy man."
She glared. "You wouldn't."
"Just watch me. I'd rather not. Apart from the PR stuff, you're better than he is, but I will if you don't learn to think before you open your mouth."
She wanted to argue, but deep down she knew he was right. Actually, not that deep down. But she'd always relished a challenge … being "nice" was just another. Taking a deep breath, she curved her lips into a bright smile. "I can do that. In fact, I'll make you a deal: if I don't have this next client eating out of my hand and singing my praises, then you're welcome to give the job to Gary."
Jake snorted.
She ignored him. "So what is this emergency job? Who's the client?"
"Bodyguard. CEO of one of the big multinationals."
"But why call me in? Both Dave and Steve are free since the job they were on was canceled. They're doing surveillance but bored out of their minds."
"Because the client asked for you."
"Oh." She wasn't usually requested for bodyguard work, at least not for men. Most didn't believe a woman could protect them. "Let me see."
Jake swiveled the screen so she could read the report. For a second, the words blurred, as though her brain didn't want to register the information.
Maybe she was hallucinating. Jake's orders to put the past behind her had obviously had the opposite effect and conjured up the name in front of her. She blinked, then again, but the letters refused to realign into something more acceptable.
Could it be a different Declan McCabe? Unlikely.
"Sorry. I can't do it."
Jake's brows drew together. "You can't? I thought you'd jump at the chance."
She gave what she hoped was a casual shrug. "I'm tied up with a few other jobs right now."
"So reallocate them. I have an overwhelming urge to see this client eating out of your hand. I looked him up and he's got a reputation as a ruthless bastard."
She swallowed. "He does?"
"Yeah. Cold as ice. I'll tell you what. I'll make you a deal-you keep him sweet, prove you can do it, and my job is yours."
Well, that wasn't good news. What chance was there of her keeping Declan McCabe sweet? None, she was betting. "So why does he need a bodyguard?"
"Someone shot him this morning."
An unwelcome jolt of shock stabbed her in the solar plexus. "Is he all right?"
"They just winged him."
She let out her breath in a sigh. Though why she should worry about the asshole bastard who had broken her heart she didn't know. For many years, she would have gladly put a bullet into him herself. Or if she'd ever thought about him she would have. Which she didn't. Because she hated him.
Then something else triggered. "You said he asked for me?"
"Yes."
"Specifically by name?"
"Yes." A frown was forming between Jake's brows. "You know this man?"
"No," she said quickly. Too quickly, and Jake's frown deepened. She swallowed, then took a deep breath, wiped her palms down her thighs. She had to get out of there, get herself under control before she gave herself away. "I'll go see if I can reallocate those jobs." Without waiting for him to answer, she pushed herself up and headed for the door.
"Are you okay?"
Jake's words halted her as she reached for the handle. She didn't turn. "Why wouldn't I be?" And she was out of there.
Her mind hammered against her skull. Declan had asked for her. Why? And who'd shot him? His father had owned nightclubs and been into all sorts of dubious stuff. Maybe Declan had gone the same way. Though she doubted that. He'd always been a sanctimonious prick.
And he'd asked for her.
Bugger.
She needed to hit something. Jake had installed a gym in the basement of the building and she headed down there. Just beat up the punching bag and get it out of her system. Even better, she met one of the other operatives on her way down in the elevator.
"You going for a workout?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said eyeing her dubiously.
She guessed she looked a little tense. "Good. I feel like beating the crap out of something. I was going to use the punching bag, but I'm guessing you'll be much more satisfying." Steve was six foot four and three years younger than her.
Half an hour later and she was breathing hard, but not as hard as Steve. He leaned against the wall, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Does this mean you like me?" he asked. "You wouldn't beat up on me if you didn't like me, right?"
"Wrong."
"Come on, Jess. Admit it. Come out for a drink with me tonight."
"I don't shit on my own doorstep." Actually, she didn't shit on anyone's doorstep, but that was none of Steve's business. "Besides, I'm betting you only asked because you want to win the wager."
She was quite aware the guys had a pool going on who could actually get her on a date. She could have told them to save their energy. Actually, she had told them, numerous times. It was never going to happen. While she was willing to go through with this whole looking-for-a-man thing, she wanted a nice man. Not one of the screwed-up adrenaline junkies who worked here.
"Maybe," Steve said. "But we'd be good together."
"No, we wouldn't." She was going to find herself an accountant or a lawyer.
"You don't like men very much, do you?"
She curled the corner of her lip. "What's there to like?" Okay, so that hadn't been nice. Must try harder.
"Your loss, but I hate to see such a beautiful woman end up dried up and alone." He shrugged, but headed back to the changing rooms, leaving her with less than pleasant thoughts.
She leaned back against the wall and slid down until she sat on the floor, hugging her knees. She'd always thought Steve a bit thick, but he was spot-on with this one. Dried up and alone.
But she could change. She was trying. Christ, she'd even joined a dating agency. It wasn't her fault all the men she had met so far had bored the pants off her. Well, actually, it was her fault; she had filled out the form for the dating agency after all. And she might as well have put "boring" on the necessary criteria. She made a mental note to tweak the form.
Plus, she was the first to admit she had unresolved issues.
Jake's words came back to her. Could she let the past go? An image of Declan flashed up in her mind, all dark tousled hair and boyish good looks. Perhaps this was fate, and if she saw Declan after all these years, she'd no doubt find he was no different than any other man, just a boring businessman like Phil. And finally, she could cut the hatred from her mind, cauterize the wound, and start over, move on. After all, it hadn't been all Declan's fault. She had to take some of the blame. A tiny, tiny little bit of it.
She pushed herself up and headed back to the changing rooms, pulled her phone from her bag, and hit Jake's internal number before she could change her mind.
"The McCabe job. Set up a meeting for tomorrow."
She ended the call before she could think any more. Thinking would not be good right now.
Thinking would probably make her realize that this was a really bad idea.
Chapter Two
Something sharp stabbed repeatedly at the inside of his skull. Declan rested his head against the back of his chair, closed his eyes, and tried to ignore the pain.