“Nice cover,” he says as I lead him over to some black leather chairs where we can sit and talk. He notices Joslyn in the glass-walled conference room, where she paces back and forth with a phone to her ear. She’s far enough away her details are fuzzy, but her platinum hair and slight build would have any man looking twice.
“Who’s that?” Cruce asks as he thumbs her way.
“Client.” I give her a glance, hating how even from far away she still causes my skin to tighten.
Cruce cocks one eyebrow at my clipped tone.
I force myself to relax, embarrassed the woman makes me so uptight. “She’s got a stalker after her. He managed to break into her house, then tried to strangle her a few days ago.”
Because Cruce is a man who has spent his entire career protecting people, I’m not surprised by the hardening of his jawline with immediate concern.
“Got any leads?” he asks.
Before I answer, I motion with my hand for him to take a chair and I take another perpendicular to him. He folds his muscular frame in with surprising grace.
“I’m taking her back to California tomorrow. We’re going to try to lure him to come after her again.”
“Risky.”
“We’ll be ready for him, and she’ll be fully protected,” I assure him. “It’s low risk.”
Cruce makes a sound low in his throat that sounds like disapproval to me. And I like it, because I don’t need a team that thinks just like me. I want to consider all angles, and I’ve been looking forward to this interview with Cruce because it makes for an excellent opportunity to see how he thinks on his feet.
I ease into it, though.
“I have to say,” I drawl casually as I cross one leg over the other. “You certainly have the best letter of recommendation I’ve ever seen.”
Cruce chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Can’t really top the president of the United States writing a letter on your behalf, can you?”
“No, you can’t,” I agree.
Cruce Britton has spent his entire working career at the U.S. Secret Service. His resume gave me the bullet points. Bachelor’s degree in criminal justice, eight years in the Los Angeles field investigative office, then four years protecting the newly sworn in Vice President Jonathan Alexander and his family.
When the president decided not to run for a second term due to health issues, Jonathan Alexander threw his hat into the ring and won an easy victory. He was sworn in three months ago as our country’s newest president, yet Cruce is sitting here in search of a new job.
“Why didn’t you take the presidential detail when Alexander took office?” I ask bluntly. “You spent four years protecting him as vice president. Based on the letter he gave me on your behalf, I’m guessing he wanted you by his side for the next four years.”
Cruce smiles casually. “Actually… we’re allowed to stay on protective detail only about five years. I’d already served four so, at best, I’d only have a year with him. It just seemed like an appropriate time to start a new career.”
“What happens once you’re off protective detail?” I ask curiously, since I don’t know a lot about the Secret Service.
“Back to a field office doing investigations. Mostly financial crime and fraud. And no offense to those who do that shit, but I’m not a cop. Don’t enjoy sitting behind a desk either.”
I nod in understanding and empathy. One of the reasons I wanted to expand Jameson into more covert and dangerous stuff is I’m getting a little bored myself. Much of running this business is sitting behind a desk. For a self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie, it’s not been my happiest times as the head of this company.
The Secret Service is not ordinarily where I’d recruit from for this new group I’m forming within Jameson. Sure, someone like Cruce is an incredible marksman and his attention to detail when it comes to protective services is unparalleled. He’d be a no brainer to put in Vegas with Rachel and let him protect high-profile celebrities.
But this new venture requires a bit more than that. Most of my recruits are going to be former Special Forces since I want their advanced fighting and weapons skills, knowledge of explosives, and actual battle experience, which means they’re cool under pressure.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have looked twice at someone applying from the Secret Service, but Cruce does have something that sets him apart from the rest of the organization.
“Tell me about the attempt on then Vice President Alexander’s life,” I say, and he blinks in surprise.
I watch him carefully to see if there’s any reticence because I can’t ever have one of my guys holding back on me.
He merely nods in understanding as to why I’d want to know more about it. After all, it made Cruce an international sensation and won him the undying gratitude of a soon-to-be president.