Page 6 of Out Of A Fix

I was sure it was. Not only was he worried, but there was guilt mixed in there too. His sister had left her family, and his parents wanted nothing to do with them. It was a mess. To know he could do this for them had to feel amazing.

“I will update you as soon as I reach Eena.”

“You’ll be the one going?”

“Yessir, I will.”

“That’s even better.” He sounded pleased. “You seem more than capable, Nash.”

Like he could tell that over the phone. “Thank you, sir, I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you, Nash.”

Once I hung up, I turned, and there was my boss.

“Hey,” I greeted him, lifting my arm.

He moved quickly, embracing me, and I hugged him back.

“Congratulations,” I murmured, smiling at him. “You and Owen will be very happy, my friend.”

“We will, but where are you going?”

I grinned at him.

“What? I need to know where you are.”

“I’m off to Eena, Washington,” I replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Where?”

“Small town. Very. Please don’t give this a thought. Have fun on the honeymoon. Eat and drink and⁠—”

“I want you to be safe,” he said flatly.

I squinted at him. “Shaw will send backup if I need help. Rais will be here, and so will Cooper. Please stop thinking about this.”

But his brows were furrowed.

“Five thousand people in the whole town,” I pointed out.

He grunted. “That is…small. Perhaps there’s no reason to worry.”

I smiled at him because really, could he have wished worse luck on me? Still, I was fairly certain I was going out on an absolute waste of time of a job. Hopefully that was the case. “Let’s go back in so I can say goodbye to everyone and hug Owen before I go home and pack. I wonder what the weather’s like in Washington.”

TWO

Instead of flying out on Monday, I went on Sunday, the following day, arriving there before ten in the morning. I was going to wait, but I’d started to worry. What if Mr. Roarke was right and the single father and his three kids were in danger? It didn’t seem all that likely since the ex-Mrs. Duchesne had shown the bad guys whom she actually cared about in big neon lights, but better safe than sorry.

When I flew into the airport, I was going to rent a car, but the drive was short, and since I was going to be there for at least a month—as long as Mr. Duchesne didn’t send me packing—I took an Uber. A lovely young woman picked me up, and we had a nice talk about the best things to do in the area and where I should go on a date night.

“From the look on your face,” she said, chuckling, “I’m thinking there are no plans for that. Am I right?”

I nodded.

“That’s a pity. You’re nice and very easy on the eyes. There should be dating.”

I thanked her for the compliment but clarified I was there for work.