Suspicious Activities

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?”

Chapter Two (#ulink_c78d5e5b-78df-5046-87ae-ad23f047032d)

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.

Nikki wanted to glance around at the surrounding tables to see if anyone was catching this non-speed-dating conversation, but there was something oddly transfixing about the man in front of her. Unlike Jackson, who had been intriguing with a good dose of some unknown pull, Andrew was an old face she had never thought she’d see again. And now she couldn’t look away.

“If you’re itching to place blame, just look in a mirror,” she said, fire so hot in her words that they came out cold. “Don’t blame me for what happened.”

Andrew slammed his fist against the tabletop with such force that Nikki pushed back in her chair.

“You are the only person to blame,” he roared.

The chatter around them died. For one long moment, all Nikki could hear were the soft sounds of the radio pumping through the wall speakers. She didn’t move, stunned.

Andrew’s heaving chest settled into a more socially suitable clip. His smile reformed. He seemed to know he’d just caused a scene. He nodded to the people around them, then focused on Nikki again.

“I’m not here to point fingers, Nikki,” he almost cooed. “I’m here to teach you a lesson about cause and effect. About consequences.” He leaned across the table.

Nikki, not one to back down, especially for Andrew Miller, couldn’t help feeling the desire to pull away.

“Cause—you destroyed me. Effect—now I’m going to destroy you.” His smile turned absolutely sincere. “So get ready, Nikki. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

Andrew left the table quickly and quietly, exiting onto the sidewalk and walking out of view from the windows. The bell went off, signaling for the men to switch again. The woman to the right of Nikki leaned over.

“Men like him make me think being single forever is not such a bad thing,” she whispered. Nikki’s eyes stayed on the door.

“Amen to that.”

Nikki collected her things and apologized to her next potential suitor. His eyes traveled to the voluptuous blonde two tables down as he said “No problem.”

Downtown Dallas was buzzing as she followed the sidewalk down toward the communal parking lot. The faux leather pants that had been a daring choice that morning when she picked out her potential date-night outfit now clung to her uncomfortably. The heels that were higher than any others she wore on a normal occasion now bit at her feet. Her hair, curled instead of straightened, hung heavy against her shoulders.

What was supposed to have been an attempt to have a life outside of Orion and her work had been shut down by the one man who had helped her create Orion in the first place.

Her thoughts slid to Oliver Quinn, Mark Tranton and Jonathan Carmichael. If Andrew was in town, her original three agents would want to know. She could picture their faces as she told them, all contorting in the anger she still felt burning when she thought of the man. What Andrew had done, or rather hadn’t done, had changed all of their lives. Nikki and the guys had come to Dallas seeking redemption. They’d spent the last several years trying to save as many people as they could, protecting them without worry of turning a profit.

Apparently Andrew hadn’t sought the same.

And now he was in Dallas.

Why? Was he really here to mess with her?

She thought about the man she used to know quite well. He was clever and brilliant and certainly selfish. Was he stupid enough, malicious enough, to try to hurt her?

No. He’s just blowing off steam.

He had been right. After what she’d done, she doubted everything in his life had gone back to the way it was before. Beautiful women hanging on his arms, an exuberant amount of money and a reputation built up on pillars of gold. Andrew Miller had been a rock star in Chicago.

Until...