THREE
Enzo
Christ, she was gorgeous.
That wasn't just his unused sex drive that was a bit on-edge thanks to the apartment porn one floor above either.
He could have been fresh off a fuck and would have still been physically impacted by her presence.
She was just that unique.
He couldn't tell you exactly what it was per se.
True, she was just genuinely beautiful with her somewhat exotic copper-tone skin, dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, and intense dark eyes. She had a body he would pick out of a crowd of women too - short and stacked in the lower body.
But that wasn't exactly it.
It was more of an air she had about her.
There was a confidence there, an understanding that his opinion didn't mean dick to her. That was always almost intolerably sexy. Mingled with that as well was a sort of competence, and a bone-deep determination that he related to more than he could say.
She was the whole package.
But she was also competition.
That shit was going to get complicated.
A man for the same job? He wouldn't have been as worried. But if there was one thing he learned by growing up around a shitton of strong ass women, it was that they were a completely formidable force when they were on a mission.
Espen was on a fucking mission.
He knew better than to underestimate that.
She would be a worthy opponent.
Xander led Enzo through the newly renovated office building. Enzo had to admit, it was a place he would be happy to work. The space was massive, all exposed brick walls, open beam and duct work ceilings, and simple cement floors. There were three desks to each side of the room, a small seating area by the front door with a black leather couch, and coffee station. Toward the back, you would find filing cabinets, flanked on either side by two small rooms. The one Xander wasn't leading him toward had the door open, and Enzo could see the insides of a bath, complete with a shower. Maybe there were days when people practically lived at the office.
Xander stopped outside the other room, punching a quick code into a keypad there, then pulling open the door.
"Only place for peace and quiet," he informed Enzo as he led him into a small room that was maybe eight-by-ten. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with shelves.
And on those shelves?
Yeah, weapons.
Of every kind.
There were also some cameras, recording devices, bugs, cuffs, and flashlights, but mostly, it was weapons. From what he could tell, though, they were non-lethal: batons, brass knuckles, tasers, mace, guns with bean bag and salt rounds beside them. There did seem to be a few actual guns. But they were behind another locked glass cabinet.
"Is that a sting ball grenade?" Enzo asked, smirk pulling at his lips.
"And that's why when Paine put out feelers for you, I was quick to jump," Xander said, nodding. "In case you were wondering, I do know your whole history. I wouldn't hire someone without doing my own due diligence. Promising sports career ripped away from you, worked dead-end jobs, then joined up in your brother's gang. He wanted out; you took over. It's an interesting story."
"You know what I've done, and you still want me here?" Enzo asked, feeling a small amount of the pressure lift from his shoulders. True, he would still need to prove himself, to show he was more than some gangbanger, but it was a relief to know he wouldn't have to explain his whole colorful background to anyone.
"I think it's pretty widespread knowledge that I don't always do things by the book," Xander said, seeming proud of that fact. "So, I don't want people working for me who are afraid to get their hands dirty here and there. Figure, if you were willing to deal drugs, keep women, and do shit like beat-ins and outs, well, you're the kind of man who can handle the shit we do around here from time to time."
He wasn't wrong.
Enzo had done a lot of shady shit in his time, blinded by power, by the almost overwhelming relief and freedom that came with having more money than you needed. It didn't faze him to have to rough up some dealer of his that was likely the same age of his little step-sisters. It didn't hit him as hard as it maybe should have when one of his men got gunned down outside his apartment building. Hell, he had accepted getting shot by his own step-brother with way too much ease.
"I am," Enzo agreed, nodding.
"I wasn't aware that Ellie had offered the opportunity to Espen. So the only fair thing now is to see who is the best at the job."
"I'm okay with that."
Xander nodded, raking a hand down his face, trying to hide his smile. "I think you're gonna have your work cut out for you with that one. She's a fucking firecracker. I don't know shit about her background, but I feel she has some kind of skill in her."
Enzo did too, and that was worrying.
"Will we be working different cases, or are you gonna be a dick and make us work the same ones, and see who wraps it up the fastest?" Enzo asked, figuring Xander was the kind of man who appreciated bluntness.
"Look at you putting all kinds of evil ideas in my head," Xander said with a laugh as he led Enzo out of the weapons room, re-alarming the system before leading him back into the main area of the office.
"I gave her this desk," Ellie said, climbing off the edge of said dark desk.
All six of them matched - dark wood, slim all-in-one desktop computers, a black pen and pencil holder, and a black wire file sorter. All of the desks across the other wall were obviously taken, having cups of coffee, paperwork, or personal effects scattered around. In fact, the only unoccupied desk left was the one directly next to Espen's.
Of course.
"That means you're there then," Xander said unnecessarily, waving at the empty desk, which Enzo moved behind, ignoring the challenging look on Espen's face. "Alright, well, I know Enzo. Who the fuck are you, sweetheart?"
"Someone who will rip off your balls, and pickle them, if you call me sweetheart again," Espen said immediately, making Xander's eyes dance.
"Alright, got it. Smashing the patriarchy and all that crap. But that wasn't what I was asking for."
"Her name is Espen Locklear," Ellie supplied in the somewhat tense silence.
"Bull-fucking-shit," Xander exploded, making not only Enzo, but Espen, and Ellie stiffen. "Locklear? As in Atien Locklear? You're fucking serious?"
"Or, you know, as in Espen Locklear, an independent woman with her own skills and accomplishments, including a degree, and a rokudan black belt, not just the offspring of someone else..."
"Yeah, we get it," Xander said, shaking his head. "You're independent and shit. That's fantastic. You and Faith can rag on me about being a fucking neanderthal next time she visits. Right now, though, we are talking about why the fuck you are working for me when your father is one of the most respected private investigators in the city. Maybe on the east coast."
"It's simple," Espen said, shrugging. "I wanted to make my own way in life. I don't want anyone accusing me of riding my father's coattails."
To that, Xander nodded, seeming to understand that drive. "I get that," he agreed, bringing up a hand, and rubbing it across the back of his neck. "Does he know you're working for me? Or, in other words, should I be expecting a visit from him?"
"Honestly," Espen said, shrugging one of her delicate shoulders, "I don't know. I know we're in a fight. He's pissed at me, and thinks this was a reckless decision. So we aren't exactly speaking."
"But you are his daughter," Xander guessed.
"Exactly," she agreed, nodding.
"Alright. Well, that's something to look forward to," he said, moving across the room toward his desk, shuffling some folders with his back toward his new employees for a long minute, long enough for Enzo's attention to shift toward Espen.
He wasn't from the city, so he didn't know all the players like Xander did, but if Xander was surprised by her lineage, and maybe even impressed by it, then he realized that he should do some digging on the pretty woman sitting all of five feet away from him.
If she came from a line of private investigators, she could be even more dangerous competition. She would know some of the ins and outs that he wasn't privy to.
"What?" Espen asked, noticing his gaze on her as she leaned back, pulling one of the bands off her wrists, then reaching up to gather her hair, and tie it into a ponytail that still seemed to hang almost halfway down her back.
It was the kind of hair that begged to be wrapped around your fist and yanked while you fucked her from behind. It was the kind that would tease over your stomach as she blazed a trail downward, her eager mouth seeking your cock.
Fuck.
"Nothing. Just checking out the competition, honey," he said, smiling a little when her eyes blazed at him. The endearments thing was interesting. He wanted to know where her aversion to it came from. There was no way there wasn't some kind of story there.
He needed to keep his head on straight, keep his mind on the job, not the sexy ass woman sitting beside him, sparking all kinds of attitude when that was exactly what he liked in a woman.
"Alright, here," Xander said, dropping files down on each of their computers. "That is just paperwork for some open cases the other guys are working on. Don't," Xander said when Espen opened her mouth to complain, "think that I am saddling you guys with busy work. You need to learn the computer systems and the terms we use around here. Study it while you add it into the programs. As soon as we have some new cases for you to work on, you can both cut your teeth. For now, grunt work. Oh," he said, turning back when he moved to walk away, "and the coffee pot never goes empty, got it?"
This was not a rhetorical question.
He was dead fucking serious.
"Got it," Enzo agreed, nodding. "I'm assuming it's of the toxic waste strength?"
"If I don't develop an immediate ulcer, you done fucked up," Xander agreed, grabbing his woman's hand, and pulling her with him toward the front door, then out.
Enzo turned his attention to his computer, going into the file system, and searching around, unfamiliar with how it worked.
When he heard no tapping or clicking from Espen, he chanced a look over to find her spreading the file all over her desk, seemingly studying it.
Her lips were slightly parted in concentration.
And that was exactly the kind of little detail he needed not to be noticing.
"Can I help you?" she asked, flipping a page, not bothering to look over.
"You're not entering the information."
"I've been working on this system for years. Entering in data will take me five minutes tops."
"So you're going to fill the rest of your day with trying to solve someone else's case? Think that will go over well?"
"I'm less concerned about office politics, and more concerned about impressing Xander. You know, my future boss," she added pointedly.
"Doubt you'll impress Rhodes by pissing off your coworkers," Enzo countered, finally finding the file he was looking for, and adding in the information someone named Kane had jotted down in what must have been a rush because it was hardly more than chicken scratch.
He wasn't exactly unaware though of Espen's sigh followed by her almost frantic typing on her own keyboard.
So maybe she had better references than he did; maybe she knew the computer systems, and the general how-to that was private investigation.
But he seemed to have her beat on the office dynamics and human interaction part. Which, if you were being honest, could and often did trump actual skills.
If she was the type to try to prove herself by stepping on other's toes, then she was only going to piss people off. If she pissed people off, the office dynamic would get tense. If that happened, Xander would be forced to decide who would stay and who would go.
Chances were, no matter how good her skills, it would be her out on her ass if she couldn't stay in line.
He wouldn't lie; he felt bad about hoping she got put out on her ass. It went against almost everything he felt comfortable thinking about women, wanting to take care of them, protect them, all the things he had learned from all the women he had been surrounded by most of his life. It was especially shitty because she did seem to know her shit, was capable of doing the job, was even offered the damn thing.
But this was survival for him.
It was him or her.
Normally, he'd be a fucking gentleman and step aside.
But he needed this.
He wasn't giving in.
So pretty little Espen Locklear was just going to have to bring her A-game and keep her attitude in line if she wanted to go toe-to-toe with him.
She was going down.
And not in the hot way he had been imagining a few moments before.
And right then again.
Shit.
The attraction thing was going to be a problem.