Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I never would have imagined she’d ask me to give it up, especially without even knowing what it is. But in the back of my mind, I understand why she needs to know.
Because in the end, assuming Voronin goes down and Josie becomes safe, she can’t work in a profession that takes down people like me. We’re ethically on opposite ends of the career spectrum. It would never work… not for the long haul.
“I’m not going to promise you something I’m not sure I can deliver,” I finally say. “But what I do know is that I’m not the same man I was before I met you. What I’ve been doing for twenty years stopped making sense to me sometime around the moment I pulled you out of the water that night.”
Her smile is grateful. “That’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either.”
“It would be life altering for me. I have people who depend on me and ending it would have to be done in a way that doesn’t hurt them.”
She stares at me for a long moment. “You’re a good man, Finn. I certainly don’t know what you do, and I probably don’t want to know, so in my mind, I think you smuggle Canadian angora bunny rabbits, but the only thing that matters is you’re a good man.”
Josie takes my hand and holds it. We sit at my kitchen island and sip our coffee, looking out at the water beyond the windows. Our eggs have gone cold. There’s so much left to decide and so much that can hurt us both.
But none of that matters right now. I won’t really remember any of this next week.
What I’m going to remember is her hand on mine, the way she fit against me last night, and how much I loved watching her eat her eggs on toast.
Josie clears her throat. “I have to get into the office.”
She stands from the stool, but I don’t release our entwined fingers, forcing her to stay. My hand goes to her cheek, slides to her neck, and I pull her to me for a kiss. “When are you going to invite me to your place?” I ask when our mouths part.
She grins. “Tonight? I’ll cook you dinner.”
“That’s an offer I won’t be able to refuse.”
I clean the kitchen as Josie dresses upstairs. When she comes back down, I walk her to the door and thoroughly possess her mouth one last time.
Just to start our day right.
I watch her get into her car, drive away, and I start to catalogue the ways in which my life has now drastically changed.
Could I give up the smuggling? I obviously do it for the money, but also because I’m good at it. It’s really the only thing in my life I’ve ever truly excelled at.
Could I have a happy life running an art gallery?
Or maybe I could look at another career.
I glance around my house. I certainly can’t afford this lifestyle if I give it up but not sure I really need any of this. Especially if the gain is Josie.
It’s a lot to think about, but first… we need to take Voronin down and secure Josie’s safety.
Then we can worry about what we might be together.
CHAPTER 12
Josie
I’m late getting into the office but no one really cares in the ordinary course of business. I sometimes put in upward of sixty-plus hours a week, as do most of the other agents, so we have freedom to come and go as we please. It’s Malik’s way of hands-off managing, which somehow makes people want to work harder. But because of everything going on, I had sent a text to Malik I was running a bit late so as not to worry him.
I come in through the garage entrance, using the retinal scanner to gain entry. I usually wear business attire into the office but after showering at my house, with the information rolling through my head that Finn gave me over breakfast, I decided that I needed to dress for comfort. I put on my favorite worn, soft denim jeans in a boyfriend cut that hang loose and baggy on me. I have on a University of Washington sweatshirt and my hair in a loose topknot. I went without my contacts today and opted for my lightweight, wire-rimmed frames.
Caroline looks up from her workstation as I pass by, blinking in surprise at my attire. “Someone’s getting ready to buckle down,” she calls out.
I glance over my shoulder at her and wink. “You know me well.”
At my desk, I turn on my computer and pull out the notes I jotted down from this morning. It’s only a few pieces of information, but I know I can expand it into something meaty.
BOB comes up on three screens at once, the center monitor serving as the operations dashboard. The left holds the working files and the right is the query window where I’ll start building my trail.