“And you’re going to jail,” a detective announced as he approached, carrying the envelope full of cash.
Donaldson handed off Richie and the hitman to another cop before turning his glare on me. “I told you to hold your position.”
I shrugged. “There are only two people I take orders from, and you didn’t make the cut.”
Donaldson crossed his arms over his chest. “My employer paid for your services.”
“And I’ve provided them. I’ve saved the wedding, the groom is still alive, and you’ve caught the threat. You’re welcome.”
I grabbed the gym bag holding my clothes from under the blankets in the grocery cart and walked away. I was good at that. I never got too attached to clients or their problems. I did my job and left. Some might call me cold and calculating. The truth was I wasn’t like most girls who thrived on drama. I hated it. Did that make me weird?
I glanced down at my watch and let a string of cuss words fly from my lips. I was going to be late.
I slid into my sports car and sped across town, fighting against the minutes. No way was I going to be the last one to show. Uh-uh. I knew those consequences, and it was never fun. I slammed on the brakes in front of Fairy Damn Godmother headquarters and ran inside, bypassing the elevators that took forever and using the emergency stairs instead.
I tossed my gym bag into my office, not bothering to change out of my ratty clothes. Jogging down the hall, I slowed as I approached the conference room. I was late for the weekly company meeting. Ms. Delany hated when her girls were late, and I knew better. Losing track of time was going to cost me…big.
Laughter erupted from behind the closed door. I took a second to calm my breath before I pushed the door open.
A man in a suit stood at the front of the room.
“You’re late, Gwen,” Ms. Delany announced.
“Sorry. It couldn’t be avoided.” I gave her a polite nod and moved to sit in one of the empty chairs in the back of the room. Fairy Damn Godmother went by many names, as did the girls who worked for it. We were ghosts when we needed to be. We were security when lives were threatened, and we, like cleaners, tried to rid the world of all its evil. James Bond was a spy, and we were the female version, only working on a less grand scale. We didn’t save the world from mass destruction; we protected our clients from any and all threats. And even then, they had to be vetted and deemed worthy before we took them on as clients. Each girl that FDG brought in under its wing earned the right to be there. Individually, all of us had our own unique talents and qualities that were used to get the jobs done. Mine was my ability to blend into any situation necessary—not only that but also my ability to think on my feet.
The man standing at the head of the table held my gaze.
“Please continue,” Ms. Delany prompted.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head while still holding my gaze. “Do you mind me asking what you were doing dressed like that?”
“I was stopping a hit from being ordered on a groom by his own brother, and I needed to blend in.”
“This is Gwen Bennett. Gwen is our resident chameleon. There isn’t a situation she can’t fit into. She’s played everyone from a royal heiress to a homeless bag lady. She’s fluent in seven languages, has a Ph.D. in psychology and a minor in criminal justice, and she’s a weapons expert.”
I should be mad that Delany was telling my life story to a potential client. I always only told them enough to get in to do my job, and get out. She was the boss.
He raised a brow and rubbed at his chin. “I’ll take her.”
“Wait. What?” I said, tilting my head. “What’s the job? I might not be the most qualified. You might want to choose someone else.”
The girls at the table gasped, each turning to look at me as if I’d grown an extra head.
“What?”
Rose came to my rescue and leaned in. “No one says no to Carter Pierce.”
“I thought you said she was smart,” Pierce said, crossing his arms over his chest.
I rose from my chair, bored with this meeting. I didn’t normally walk out, especially on a client, but I’d heard more than enough. I glanced at Ms. Delany. “Is he the only client on the roster?”
She nodded.
“Perfect, assign him someone else. I need a shower.” I clicked my tongue and pointed to the suit. “Tell your mechanics and design team great job on the X3, although there’s a problem with the timing belt. I’ve fixed mine, but you might want to mention it to your production line.”
I winked and walked out.
“She knows cars?” I heard him ask and grinned all the way back to my office, where I grabbed my gym bag and headed for the showers on the second floor. I had a full day’s grit and grime to wash away.
