The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers #2) - Lucy Leroux Page 0,24

the Auric offices weren’t as flashy as the Caislean, Mason always felt a little out of place whenever he came here. Employees at his level didn’t see the main hub too often, usually only when they signed their contracts or updated their wills…which may have explained his mild disquiet.

Every member of Auric was required to have a last will and testament, updated every year. Mason recognized the wisdom of the policy, but it still made him uneasy. Despite regularly facing his mortality on the job, it was never as real to him as when he saw it in black and white while revising his will with the company lawyer—his annual trip to purgatory.

Other than the dreaded paperwork, the bulk of Auric’s business was conducted at their training facility near Glendale. Only the team heads came to the offices regularly—not that Quinn and Gardner discouraged visits. But they weren’t necessary. Both men still trained with their employees, making themselves accessible should someone want to have a quiet word. When Mason first started at Auric, they used to go on missions, but the business was growing fast, so they did so less and less. The last time Quinn had coordinated an op was over a year ago.

Nevertheless, the cousins’ past military experience was one reason Mason had decided to sign up with Auric. It was important to him that the founders weren’t fat cats or straight-up pencil pushers. Quinn and Gardner knew what it meant to serve. He trusted them. And before today, he thought that went both ways. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Mason didn’t know why he was being called in, but he must have done something wrong and not realized it.

It was the only thing that could have distracted him from thoughts of Laila at that moment.

He stopped short of the entrance to Auric offices, images of her slim naked forms wrapped around him, flooding through his brain.

Fuck. Stop that. Right now, Mason had to deal with the fact he might be getting fired for some godforsaken reason.

Grunting, he passed a hand through his hair before straightening his posture and opening the glass door the led to the reception era. Whatever was going on, he could count on Quinn and Gardner to be straight with him.

“Hello, Mr. Lang,” Laurie, the receptionist, greeted him. In her early twenties, Laurie was the object of much speculation among the men. A few had asked her out, though without success.

Her bright smile could have been in a toothpaste ad. “They’re expecting you,” she said with a graceful gesture of her hand.

He inclined his head, intent on going in and getting it over with, but Laurie hopped to her feet behind the desk. “Can I get you something before you go in? Coffee? A bottle of water?”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” he said, stiff-necked. The touch of Tennessee in his drawl was proof of his anxiety.

“Be sure to let me know if you change your mind,” Laurie said cheerfully before she sat, returning to her work.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, man. Thanks for coming in so fast.” Dominic Santos, his team leader, drew him away down the hall. Once they were away from the reception desk, he smirked, nudging him. “You know Laurie never offers to get me anything. Nor does she offer refreshments to any of the team heads—I know because I asked. She only fetches for Quinn and Gardner, the clients, and, apparently, you.”

Mason ignored the bit about the receptionist. It wasn’t hard given the sight that greeted him on the other side of the glass conference room doors.

“Now I know I’m in trouble,” he said, looking askance at the group around the oval table. Ian Quinn and Elias Gardner sat with two other men in suits so sharp they could probably draw blood.

“What makes you say that?” his team leader asked.

“Why else would you be here?”

Dom was a solid guy, a former ranger like him, but he was also a family man with a young kid at home, so he didn’t socialize much with Mason or the rest of the team. But Mason could still read him. And, right now, Dom was amused.

“Relax. It’s nothing like that.”

Scowling, Mason wanted to ask him what it was like then, but Dom forestalled him. “Let’s just get in there,” he said, pointing to the door with his thumb. “It’ll all be clear soon enough.”

Wiping his expression clean, Mason followed him inside. The newcomers turned to him. They appeared to be the same age