Men’s voices trailed in on the warm breeze. Laughing, ribbing, discussion over the op they’d just completed. Everly knew the sound well.
“He’s finally inbound,” Everly told Sam. “If this had been a real job interview, I would have bailed after ten minutes.”
“What are you wearing?”
“You think to ask me that now?”
“You didn’t go too sexy, did you? He won’t like that. It would be an automatic no.”
Everly laughed softly. “I’m not sure if I should be pleased that you think I could dress too sexy or if I should be pissed you accuse me of doing something so stupid.”
“Chill, chill. It just popped into my head,” he muttered. “Just remember, sweet, wholesome, smart—but not too smart.”
“Sam, shut up.”
The men’s voices grew closer and joined the familiar sound of metal against metal and canvas against leather. The band of brothers finally crested the last hill toward the house. There were six of them, and every one of them wore that shit-eating, what-a-blast smile. They were also splattered with a rainbow of color, which told Everly they’d been training with wax bullets.
“I was yelling in your ear,” one guy was saying, “‘Capture, don’t kill. Capture, don’t kill.’ What part of ‘capture, don’t kill’ didn’t you understand?”
More laughter peppered the air. Everly stared out at the ocean as if she didn’t hear them coming, but she knew the instant they saw her—their conversation dropped in pitch. The sprinkle of low, sexy laughter made Everly wonder if she’d gone too sexy after all.
She glanced down at the sundress she’d picked up at a boutique in the airport. Buttery yellow with a large, abstract floral pattern, it certainly wasn’t frumpy and it fit her well, but nothing about it screamed sex kitten. They were probably just being men and weren’t used to having young women around the property. Sam hadn’t been able to locate any romantic relationships in Hix’s life, which only meant he hooked up away from his daughter’s impressionable eyes. Points for Hix.
But that kind of behavior wasn’t consistent with the picture painted by his file, provided by Senator Seaver, of a man who said inappropriate things in front of his four-year-old daughter and frequently missed visitation days to hang out with his friends at bars.
Everly had to remember she wasn’t here to make judgment calls. She was here to do a job—bring Mirabella home to her grandparents, who had sole custody of the girl.
Decker crossed the pool deck toward the men. All stopped and huddled for a conversation Everly couldn’t hear. Every man was focused on Decker; every guy except Hix. He stared directly at Everly with a decidedly what-the-fuck expression.
She clasped her hands behind her back and let her gaze drift back to the deep-blue pool, turned her back on the men and strolled the deck. “Someone’s not happy I’m here,” she told Sam. “Maybe I should have gone sexier.”
When she faced the house again, Hix turned away from Decker and addressed the guys. He said something to the effect of “Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”
The guys took one more look at Everly, then said something to Hix he didn’t like much.
“Oh joy,” Everly muttered.
Now she had to convince him it was in Mirabella’s best interest for her to stay, and prove to both herself and Hix she qualified as a nanny. Everly had a feeling this operation was going to feel ten times longer than it actually lasted.
She kept her gaze on the pool while Hix continued the conversation with Decker. “I feel like I’ve lost before I’ve even begun. Tips to win him over would be helpful.”
“You have every skill he’s looking for,” Sam told her. “At least in your résumé. Multilingual, experienced with children, humanitarian background, intelligent, well-traveled. The only thing he could hold against you would be your age and looks.”
Which sh
e could do nothing about.
“Our intel paints him as a narcissistic, arrogant, money-hungry chameleon,” Sam said, “so appealing to his ego might work. Maybe awe over the company he’s built? The house? His money?”
Everly had taken on so many personalities over the years, she sometimes forgot which one was the real her.
“I’ll wing it.” At least she would if she got the interview. The way he and Decker were talking, she was pretty sure she had a fifty-fifty chance of being escorted off the property before he even spoke with her. And that would just plain suck. “I’ll play off him.”
Hix sidestepped Decker and started toward her.
“Here we go,” she said on a sigh, then turned to face him as he approached.
She offered a polite smile, but he didn’t return it. His expression was all business, and it wasn’t exactly pleasant business either.