Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (6 page)

“Nice to meet you, Mr., ah...”  Damn, I probably should’ve asked for his name before I opened the door. 

The smile twitched a little higher.  “It’s Kane, and thanks for seeing me, ma’am.” 

“That’s
Your Grace
to you, boy,” Lee prompted, and Kane shot him a rebellious frown. 

“Why?  She ain’t my grace.” 

“We talked about manners.”  Lee’s arms crossed, staring him down until Kane’s shoulders slumped. 

“I called her ma’am,” he muttered, as if that should be good enough.  Kane’s eyes briefly closed as he schooled his features into a polite smile.  “Sorry, Your Grace,” he tried again, with more deference to his voice.

I watched the power play with interest, wondering what Lee had told him about me beforehand.  “No, it’s fine.  Please, come in.”  Kane stepped over the threshold with no problem, and I smiled.  “You can call me Anja.” 

“There we go, all friendly like.  See, nothin’ to worry about, old man,” Kane beamed, lightly swatting at Lee’s chest with the back of his hand in passing.  “Where we going, through here?”  Without waiting for a response, he led the way to my study, and I wondered how he knew which direction to go.  Lee gave me an apologetic shrug and followed after him.  Who was interviewing who?

I took a seat behind my desk, glad to see that Kane had remained standing until Lee invited him to sit.  “Can I offer you something to drink, Kane?”  He didn’t have a beer in hand, and I wasn’t sure if it was because Lee had changed his mind about offering him one, or if he’d already chugged it.  He didn’t smell of beer though.  I caught the scent of fresh strawberries and the faintest whiff of axle grease, but no alcohol. 

“Not unless we got something to drink to, but I’m guessing it’s a bit early for that,” he grinned, his teeth white and even. 

I nodded.  “Just a bit.”  He was confident, not quite cocky, but I imagined he would be among his friends.  Lee leaned against the window sill, arms crossed in silent judgment, but leaving the questions entirely up to me. 
Cool beans.
  “So, Kane,” I began, briefly glancing at my notes.  “Have you held any positions like this one before?”

“Not in the private sector, but I’m no stranger to security details and organizing men.”

“Where are you working now?”

He shifted uncomfortably.  “I’m repoing cars and working skip traces for a local bail bondsman.  The pay’s good, but I’m looking for something more steady.” 

“Skip tracing?  That sounds interesting, tell me more about that.”

Kane eased at the question without judgment.  “Well, basically if someone runs out on their bail, I track them down and haul their ass back in to the authorities.” 

“And are you good at tracking people down?”

“I’m the best,” he grinned. 

“You sound confident about that.”

“I can give you the straight up numbers if you want, they don’t lie.”

“I can vouch for that, I’ve heard talk of some of his more wily skips,” Lee supplied.  “Boy’s got a good nose for trackin’, to be sure.”

“What did you do before you became a bounty hunter?”

His expression became pained when I used that term, but he replied without making  a mention of it.  “I was in the Army, Special Forces.  Did three tours before I decided I wanted to settle back at home again.”

Special Forces sounded impressive.  I wondered if I should have Carter talk to him to make sure he really knew his stuff, but decided it wasn’t that important.  It wasn’t like we needed him to go all commando in his job duties.  “Are you from this area originally?”

“No.”

I expected him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, I prompted, “And where are you from then?”

His brow furrowed, his dark gaze skewering me.  “Does it matter?”

A red flag waved in the corner of my mind.  “That is something that employers tend to ask for, yes.”

“I reckon we can skip over that for now,” Lee spoke up, and I shot him a look.  I wished he’d filled me in on shifter etiquette before we’d started.  How was I supposed to know it was a sticky topic?

“Okay... so what do you think makes you a good candidate for this position?” I tried again, and this time he answered readily. 

“I got the right temperament to deal with bullshit.  ’Cause let’s be honest, that’s what you’re looking for, right?  The reason you want a manager is so you don’t have to deal with the day to day bullshit of running the men.  I happen to excel at getting the best out of the men under my command.”

“And how do you do that?”

“I’m honest and I’m fair.  I don’t deal with favoritism or any political garbage.  I don’t tolerate slackers or assholes working security as an excuse to fight.  Be straight up, do your job and do it well, and we got a place for you here.  From what Lee’s told me, you’re paying fair, and there’s plenty of work to be had in a city of this size, so a guy can make a decent living at this.  There ain’t no reason for drama.  You hire me to manage the men, and I’ll keep the bullshit off your desk.”

“And what about women?”

“Huh?”  His head canted to one side in confusion.

“You keep saying manage the men.  How do you feel about female employees?  Do you have a bias there?”  If he did, he’d better lay it on the table now.

“I got no problem with women under me,” he said with a wolfish grin.  “Hell, I’ve had my head wrapped between the thighs of more than one strong female in my day.”

I bet.
  “I meant in the workforce.”

“So did I, ma’am,” he sobered.  “If a female can do the job, she’s got no issues from me.” 

He seemed earnest enough.  “Do you have any problems with vampires?  Any history of bad blood I should know about?” 

“I don’t have a problem with vampires, as long as they don’t have a problem with me.  Doesn’t mean I’m going to bow and scrape, and kiss their asses like shifters do in some parts of the world though.  If that’s what you’re looking for...”

“That’s not in the job description,” I smiled, waving that concern away.  “Okay, let’s talk about a what if situation.  So and so doesn’t show up to fill a shift, what do you do?”

“That depends,” he shrugged.  “Is it a bullshit excuse?  In which case, I show up at his house and drag his sorry ass out of bed, and he can work with his hangover.  Is it legit?  Depending on how much notice I have, I either start making some calls to fill it, or take the shift myself.”

It was rough around the edges, but I couldn’t argue with his response.  Overall, I was starting to like the shifter, even if his attitude was unusual in a job applicant.  I couldn’t help but ask the one question they always ask.  “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“Working for you, maybe with a stake in the company if I do a good job.  Get a little place of my own instead of the shithole I’m renting.  Nothing fancy, as long as it’s mine.  Maybe finish putting together the ’42 Harley that’s been giving me trouble.”

All solid goals that spoke of stability and longevity, I couldn’t fault him there.  “What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?” I asked, changing things up.

“The answer to that last question,” he laughed.  “I don’t look much to the future, I never have.  I ain’t never been one to dream of the white picket fence and kids in the yard.  I don’t know where I’ll be in five years.  But I know where I want to be.  This job’s a step in the right direction.”

“Fair enough,” I nodded, unable to fault him for that.  Lord only knew where I’d be in five years.  “I’ve only got two questions left.  Why should we hire you?”

“’Cause I need the work, and I’ll do right by you.  I give you my word on that,” he replied, and I believed the sincerity in his dark gaze. 

“Okay.  And lastly, why
shouldn’t
I hire you?”

His lips curved into a slow grin.  “I can’t think of a single reason, ma’am.  Can you?”

I looked to Lee, who hid a smile behind his hand.  He gave a short nod, telling me where his thoughts lay.  “I guess not, Mr. Kane.”

“It’s just Kane.”

“Welcome aboard, Kane.”

T
his time we’ll go casual.

That was the last message I had from Bishop with regards to our second date, and I was relieved.  I would’ve been happy to snuggle up with a movie and a bowl of popcorn, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to see what he came up with after the last fiasco.  Deciding on a pair of slim fitting blue jeans and a soft pink sweater, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, and added a touch of eyeliner and a sheer pink lip to match. 

This time I didn’t hide out in my room, I waited up in the living room with Maggie, while Tucker was out working with Lee.  I pretended to watch Dr. Who, but it was a re-run I’d seen before, and my attention kept wandering. 

“Don’t you think?” Maggie asked, and I realized I’d been zoning out.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said it’s a shame that she cut off all her hair for Guardians of the Galaxy, but I suppose the role was well worth it.”

I blinked, realizing she must’ve meant the Doctor’s red haired companion.  “Oh right.  I’m sure it’s a cute pixie cut by now, maybe longer.”

“I think about cutting my hair every now and again,” she said, looking down at the long locks that cascaded to her waist. 

“Don’t you dare!  That’d be a crime against humanity,” I teased, glad to see her so easygoing and prone to smiling again.  Tucker had gone a long way toward putting that smile on her face, as far as I could tell.

“I said I
think
about it,” she laughed.  “Tucker prefers long hair, you know.”

“I suspected he might,” I smiled.  “Hey Maggie, don’t take this the wrong way, but you guys don’t have to live here, you know.”

Her pretty hazel eyes widened in alarm.  “You want us to leave?”

“No, I said
don’t
take it the wrong way!” I repeated quickly.  “But the two of you seem pretty serious now.  Or am I reading things wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.”  Her smile turned serene again.

“And you’re, um... well, you’re sharing the same bed on most nights now, right?”

Her cheeks colored with a delicate blush.  “We are.”

“So all I’m saying is, I’d understand it if you two wanted to move out and get some privacy.  You’ve got oodles of money, you could afford your own place, even in this market.  There’s no law that says you have to live with me because you’re my assistant, and I swear we can still get together and hang out any time you want to.”

“I admit, I have been thinking about it with all the houses we’ve been looking at lately.  Lord, not that I’d ever look at something nearly as grand as you’ve been contemplating.”

“They have been pretty shiny, haven’t they?”  Not a single one of them had felt like home to me, though that was less important than the impression it’d make on visiting delegates. 

“That reminds me.”  Maggie retrieved a large brass key from the sofa table.  “Leo dropped off the key to that place I wanted you to check out.  I think it’ll suit all of our needs.  It’s twenty thousand square feet with fourteen bedrooms, so we should be able to house quite a party at once.”

“Twenty...”  I couldn’t even imagine how big the place was, my own house would fit into it many times over.  “Are you sure we need a place that’s so big?  It seems kind of silly for something we might only use a few times a year.  I was thinking if we found a place with a decent sized yard, we could have the party outside.” 

“Are you willing to risk the weather on New Year’s Eve?” she pointed out, handing the key over.  “It’s truly the best deal for what we’re looking for.  None of the others have nearly the facilities we’ll need to house out of town guests.  It’s even got a ballroom.”

“And how much is this going to set me back?”

“They’re asking eighteen.”

“Eighteen.”  The number had no frame of reference for a moment until my brain put it into perspective.  “Eighteen million dollars?”

“Yes, but Leo seemed to think we could get it for as low as seventeen with a cash offer.”

I stared at her, blinking rapidly, unable to form words when talking about something so obscenely expensive.  “Maybe we should have a beach party instead and have everyone stay in hotels?”

“It’s well within the budget Felix described to me.  The position of Elder of the West is
supposed
to come with a certain amount of pomp, Anja.  You’ve never taken advantage of it, but it’s more the norm than this is.”  She gestured to the elegant Victorian I loved so much. 

I pocketed the key after noting the address printed on the plastic tag attached.  “I’ll check it out after my date with Bishop,” I promised.  I was running out of time to pick a place. 

“Has all this house shopping got you thinking about changing up your living arrangements as well?” Maggie asked, settling back on the couch with her long limbs folded under her.  “Has Bishop asked you to move back in with him again?”

“No, he hasn’t.  We’re taking things slowly for now, but I admit, it’s hard not to think about the future.” 
Where do you see yourself in five years?
  I heard the question in the back of my mind, as clear as day.  “I don’t know,” I admitted in all honesty.  “I love this place, but it might be weird having Bishop over with all the past history I shared with Rob here, you know?  I haven’t even invited him in yet.”

“Why not?  Has he said it makes him uncomfortable?”

“No, he hasn’t.  Frankly, I’m probably jumping the gun here.  We’re taking things slow,” I reminded myself, just in time for Bishop’s knock at the door.  “Oh, wish me luck,” I whispered, wiping my hands on my jeans. 

“You won’t need it.  You deserve to be happy, Anja.  Embrace it,” Maggie smiled up at me.

“From your lips...” I whispered, shooting her a quick grin before I scurried to the door and threw it open. 

Bishop looked much more at ease this time, in black jeans and a blue t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, his motorcycle jacket covering the telltale bulge of weapons.  The scruff was back on his jaw and his eyes gleamed with anticipation as he flashed me a winsome smile.  “You look great.  Are you ready?”

“You look pretty great yourself,” I smiled back.  “Sure, let’s go.”