The Specialist (Norcross #3) - Anna Hackett Page 0,8
every one of Easton’s instincts, honed sharp by the Army, itched.
She slid a wireless headset on. “This is Harlow.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Mr. Roth is on the line.”
Easton nodded and headed for his desk.
One thing a good interrogator needed was patience.
Harlow sipped her Earl Grey tea and burned her lip.
Ow.
She set the mug down on her desk and massaged her temples. She’d had too much coffee today and had switched to tea. She heard the rumble of Easton’s deep voice in his office. He’d been on this latest call for over an hour.
Her phone rang and she saw it was her bestie, Christie.
“Hey,” Harlow said.
“You still breathing?” Christie drawled. “Or has Mr. I-Own-the-World Norcross done you in?”
“Ha ha. If I don’t make it, it’s because he’s made my head explode.”
“Well, at least you’ll go out with a killer view.” Christie hummed. “Anytime that man visits our office, my heart takes off like my feet when I hear there’s a shoe sale on.”
Harlow snorted. Christie worked at Tenneson Industries. Harlow was well aware of the stir in the office when Easton visited her boss Meredith.
“Is it true that he has tattoos under those delicious suits?” her best friend asked.
“Yes.”
“God. Hang on, how do you know?”
“At the end of the day, he sometimes rolls his sleeves up.”
Christie made a sound. “Sorry, having a little orgasm.”
“Stop it. You’re happily married, remember?”
“And I love Charlie, but my darling hubby doesn’t even own a suit.”
No, Charlie was a landscape designer. He favored boots and shorts.
“You’re as bad as all the women who stop by to give Easton a file or a report. I have to beat them off with a stick.”
“My money’s on you. You’re mean when riled.” A pause. “You aren’t tempted by the sexy bod, the tattoos, and that face?”
“Working for him for about thirty seconds cured any heart eyes.” Oh boy, she was lying to her bestie now.
“We should get together for a coffee soon.”
“With Easton’s schedule, that’ll probably be next September.”
“Easton, huh?”
Harlow shifted in her seat. “That’s his name.”
“So, have you narrowed down any horrible house wrecks to buy and flex your reno skills on yet?”
Harlow’s stomach plummeted and she struggled to keep her tone even. “Not yet.”
“Why did your voice go funny?”
Damn, she hated her best friend sometimes. “What? No, it didn’t.”
“Spill, Carlson.”
“I haven’t found the right place.”
“Hmm.” Christie sounded dubious. “How was your date last night?”
“A dud.”
“Ugh. I don’t miss the dating merry-go-round.”
“The tyrant actually saved me. He needed me back at the office. Then when I got home, a mugger grabbed me on the street.”
“What?” A screech. “Why didn’t you call me and Charlie?”
“I was fine. Easton scared him off.” She couldn’t tell Christie about her dad. Harlow nibbled her lip. She wouldn’t drag her friend into this mess. She’d deal with it.
“Easton, again. So, your sexy boss played hero?”
“He dropped me home.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I promise.” Harlow’s cell phone rang. “I have to go, babe. Coffee soon?”
“If your hunky boss lets you out. Oh, and Charlie and I are heading down to San Diego for a week, remember?”
“Lucky duck. Bye. Love you.” She snatched up her cell phone and saw her sister’s name.
“Scarlett.”
“Hey, big sis.”
A flood of love hit Harlow. “Hi, little sis.”
“I haven’t got long,” Scarlett said. “I’m about to head into a lecture. I just wanted to say hello.”
“How’s school?”
“So awesome.” Her sister’s voice lit up. “I’ve finally found my thing Harlow. Like you did. Another year, I’ll have my degree, and I have so many plans.”
Harlow smiled, but her hand curled around the phone. Her sister was so happy. After several years of being so miserable doing a business degree, she’d switched to studying teaching at UCLA.
Harlow couldn’t let that get ruined. “Do you need anything? I can organize for—”
Scarlett let out a huff. “I’m a big girl now, Low. I can do things for myself. I know you love to keep us all organized, but you need to chill.”
“I just want to help.”
“I know.” Her sister’s voice softened. “But I’m not a little girl anymore. And Mom and Dad depend on you too much. I know you organized the new gardener at the house, and booked their upcoming cruise, and made dad’s doctor’s appointments. They’re adults.”
“I like helping.”
Her sister sighed.
It was an old argument that Harlow usually sidestepped. “You keep studying hard.”
“I will. You don’t work too hard. Hey, on my next vacation, I’m coming home. I can help you knock down some walls when you get a place.”
Harlow’s belly knotted.