to remember that the agent in charge of the Black case was Hunter’s father.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not here on official business. I’m just here, checking out the view,” he hedged, returning to the reason for Hunter’s call.
“You’re stepping on dangerous ground,” Hunter warned.
“I live for danger.” That wasn’t the official FBI motto, but Simon had seen enough of it in his nine years with the agency that he figured he had the right to use it as an excuse.
“Don’t die for it,” Hunter responded in typical fashion before hanging up.
Simon grinned. You had to like the guy. He was crazy smart, scary intuitive and could kick some serious ass, too. And he didn’t hold the reins too tight on his agents. Which was why Simon wasn’t too worried about stepping outside the lines in this matter. Hunter was more about results than he was about micromanaging. Yet another reason Simon wanted that transfer. Working with the elite would let him hone his skills, and fast track him toward his own shot at Deputy Director.
Something he’d dreamed of since he was a kid. That dream had been the impetus to haul himself out of the dregs that was his childhood. Not just to survive, but to thrive. Making that dream come true would prove, not just to him, but to everyone who’d ever doubted him, that he was more than the loser with no future.
Which brought him back to the voluptuous delight laughing and doing the twist by the twinkling lights of the ten-foot Christmas tree. She was hot. She was sexy. And she was his ticket. Not to the next rung on the ladder, but to jumping up three or four rungs at once.
Tobias Black was a legend. Reputed con artist who’d done more jobs than a hooker in the financial district at lunchtime. He was slick, quick and according to most, untouchable. Intel had him retiring to go straight about five years back, but the statute of limitations wasn’t up on all of his crimes yet. Simon knew that busting the old man, where so many had failed over the years, would be a guarantee of fame, accolades and a corner office in FBI headquarters, D.C.
He hadn’t figured out how, yet. But he was pretty sure the guy’s only daughter would be his key. He just had to wait for the right break. That he’d already been waiting for two years, checking in on Maya from time to time, didn’t bother him. Patience was a weapon he’d honed to a razor-sharp edge.
Every few months he laid over in San Francisco to do a little recon and see what she was up to. Sooner or later, she’d get edgy and tire of this straight game she was playing.
Sooner or later, she’d give him the opening he needed.
Then he’d have her.
And his future would be set.
“WHEW, I NEED A BREAK.” Maya DeLongue slid the fingers of both hands into her hair and lifted it, trying to get some cool air on the back of her neck. “It’s crazy hot in here. Can we get a drink?”
“Sure, sugar.” Her date wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her close. Always wary of public displays of affection that might call attention to her, Maya shifted, taking Dave’s hand off her waist and making a show of holding it instead as he led her from the dance floor.
Braverment Investments knew how to show their employees a good time. Plenty of alcohol flowing, just enough food to blunt the worst of the booze overload and music loud enough to prevent the employees from actually having to socialize. It was a hit.
A tension headache brewing, Maya already regretted coming.
She’d spent the last three years trying to be average in her version of the witness protection program, or in her case, the criminal protection program. Her position in IT at Braverment was perfect for her. It paid enough to keep her in the style her tastes required, in a company large enough to let her hide in plain sight. But the powers-that-be probably wouldn’t be too big on hiring a gal who’d spent her formative years specializing in computer hacking.
But average was lonely.
So she’d promised herself that this season she was going to quit hiding away. She had to be able to hide her true identity and have a fun, average life at the same time. So she’d forced herself to shimmy into a little green holiday dress and play the part of a social butterfly.
Sighing, she shifted in her Jimmy Choos and stepped through the wide glass doors onto the rooftop balcony. The cold December night wrapped around her body, making her shiver. The view of the fog-shrouded Golden Gate Bridge more than made up for the chilly weather, though.
“Hey, Carly,” she greeted when they reached one of the many tables scattered under the night sky. “Can we join you?”
Maya wasn’t especially fond of the other woman, another assistant at the investment firm they both worked for. The busty blonde was ambitious, backstabbing and didn’t play well with the other girls. But Maya knew she had to play nice with people like Carly to keep their knives as far away from her own back as possible.
“Sure,” the blonde agreed, puffing on her cigarette and checking Dave out before waving a hand to indicate the empty chairs.
“Can I get you ladies drinks?” Dave offered.
“Martini,” Carly agreed instantly.
“I’ll stick with water,” Maya said. Seeing their looks, she excused, “I’m a little dehydrated from all the dancing.”
The truth was, she didn’t drink alcohol. Ever. But neither did she like explaining herself, so she kept that little fact private.
She folded herself into one of the chairs, enjoying the way Dave’s gaze roamed over her legs. In her quest for a normal, average life, she’d finally given herself permission to date a guy she might have a future with. Sure, this was only their third date, but she had high hopes for Dave. He was nice.
“A martini and a water,” Dave said, his eyes glommed on to her thighs. “Got it.”
With a grin and a wink, he turned on his heel and hurried back into the party. Maya sighed. It was pretty obvious that someone thought he was getting lucky tonight.
“He’s hot. Are you two serious?” Carly asked.
Maya glanced at the blonde before her gaze followed the path Dave had taken. He was hot. Sorta. Sorta-tall, sorta-dark, sorta-handsome. Sure, that sexy bad-boy edge that usually drew her was missing. But that was the point. That made him safe, which was priority number one.
“We’re having fun,” she said, sidestepping the question. “How about you? Are you here with someone?”
They spent the next few minutes exchanging desultory chit chat. Maya’s gaze wandered, noting the twinkling lights framing the balcony, the few occupied tables and the noted lack of excitement she was feeling.
She’d been doing this normal life thing for three years now. In part, to prove she could. But mostly because she’d never had normal growing up. Like some kids craved the exotic, she’d craved average.
But she’d come to realize that average, after a while, was pretty damned boring. Hence Dave. And he was a nice guy. She just didn’t feel any real excitement, any wildly hot energy between them.
Maybe it was time to move on?
She was still mulling that idea, and just what it would mean to her life, when Dave returned with the drinks. She listened to him and Carly chat and wondered what it was like to be that carefree. For a girl who’d been calculating the odds since her toddler years, the concept was totally foreign.
“Maya, you don’t mind if I borrow your friend for a dance or two?” Carly asked, slinking to her feet in a move worthy of the most sinuous snake in the jungle.
Maya smirked when she saw the slight bulge of Dave’s eyes as he got the full impact of Carly’s double Ds. She couldn’t blame him. The view was mesmerizing, in a train-wreck kind of way.
“Sure,” she said. Then she added,