Sherlock! This isn’t Dottie Quick’s first rodeo.” She studied him for a tense moment and smirked. “It’s not like you to lose something important.”
There was a pause while he thought about her words. Then she barked and startled him. “What’s her name?”
“We’re not doing this, Dorothea, so stop now. It’s personal, and that’s all you’re getting.”
“Well, you don’t have to be such a grump about it. Sheesh,” she snarled. “You know I’d do anything for you, Arnie. I’ve always got your back. If you need something, just tell me. It’ll stay between us.”
A scene flashed in his brain. In a rush, he’d explain how he seduced a young, pretty waitress in Santa Barbara, fell madly in lust and possibly love with her, but before he could seal the deal, duty called, and he left things hanging.
Imagining the expression on Dottie’s face and how she might react kept him quiet. His reputation with the ladies was dismal, at best. Even though most of what people assumed about him had no basis in reality and came from the Book of Legend, his track record still sucked. Admitting he lost his shit and lured an inexperienced waitress to his bed was bound to earn him a smack up the side of the head. Dottie did not suffer man whores lightly.
“I’ll tell you when I know what I’m doing. Okay?”
She threw her hands up and scoffed. “But you just admitted you don’t know what you’re doing. Something important could be staring you in the face, and you wouldn’t know it. I can help.”
Although she was making an excellent point, he wasn’t ready to discuss Summer with anybody. Not until he had a grip on his emotions, and maybe not ever.
“Thank you for offering, but let it go.”
They looked at each other. Neither of them was going to budge.
Sighing, Arnie softened his vibe. “Let me try to figure it out on my own, Mom. Please?”
He knew calling her mom would change the conversation dynamic. Dottie might be a crusty bitch with zero fucks for the bullshit of others, but she was human and understood perhaps better than anyone how not having a mother, a real mother, had fucked with his head.
She straightened. “I’m here for you. And so is Avery.”
Avery Randolph was Dottie’s former Marine boyfriend. After retiring from the military, instead of capitalizing on his Marine skill set and going into private security, Avery opened a yarn shop in the Village. And there was more. The guy had a YouTube channel and was an enthusiastic fan of the knitting arts. The breathtaking opposites—Marine and accomplished knitter—made Avery’s story a goddamn delight.
“Does your boyfriend know anyone worth checking out because the candidates who King has interviewed don’t even make it into the bottom of a barrel worth scraping?”
She acknowledged the conversation deflection with a snigger but didn’t press. In a salty voice, she said, “First, you have to narrow the search and identify what you’re looking for. Badass isn’t a category.”
“How about normal as a category? Can we get someone normal to apply?”
“Normal?” She hooted. “ At NIGHTWIND? Get a grip.”
He laughed. “Okay, then how’s this? We need a discreet detective type. No gun crazies or ninja rain men.”
“Ninja rain men.” She snorted with laughter. “That gets a high five.”
He grinned and smacked her palm with his. The crazy image of Dustin Hoffman’s rain man as an ass-kicking ninja always made him laugh.
“King suggested a mom and pop type. A soccer parent driving a minivan. NIGHTWIND has a full house when it comes to unusual talents and skill sets. We need diversity. Someone to blend in on the ground.”
Dottie smiled. “I’m glad he’s starting to think globally. Him focusing on the agency is just what we need. Marriage, taking on an insta-family, and getting pregnant sure has changed his worldview.”
“I see what you’re doing,” he challenged with a snarky chuckle. “Somehow, you’re pulling the strings. First with King and then Jon. Who’s next? Milo? Felicity?”
She blew him off with a dismissive wave. “Screw them. Both are idiots. I have to run.” She checked her watch. “I’m booked at the firing range and don’t want to miss my spot.”
“I surprised you when I passed my level two certification.” He chortled with eyebrow-wagging nods and a knowing smirk. “Don’t be shy about congratulations.”
“Guns have never been your thing, so yeah, you shocked us.” She bowed with her hands pressed together at her chest. “Taijutsu master.”
He’d been called a lot of things and played many parts over the