I tried to tell myself as I opened the door that I wasn’t getting in over my head.

I’d been trained in hand to hand.

I knew how to shoot.

I was observant.

Even though I hadn’t enjoyed it, I’d even used my training to take lives.

The job description had specified they’d love to work with former military.

I was former military.

Still, I’d never worked as a bodyguard a day in my life.

And that was the job I was applying for. At least I assumed it was.

I sure as hell hoped I wasn’t at Steadman Security for a job as the night janitor. I hated cleaning, and I seriously hated staying up all night unless there was a good reason. A paycheck wasn’t a good reason.

Approaching the desk, I met the gaze of the young woman speaking into a headset.

She mouthed to me, please sign in.

I did so and turned away, moving over to the sitting area. Nerves chewed at me. I’d had four interviews my entire life, and two of them had to do with getting into the military – those were also the most recent.

I sat in silence for several minutes, off-handedly listening to the one-sided conversation taking place between the cute redhead who sat at the receptionist desk and whoever she was talking to.

There wasn’t anybody else in the sitting area.

At least not at first.

After about ten more minutes, a guy wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt came in, signed the slip and came to sit across from me.

I summed him up about as fast as he did me.

“Army?” he asked.

I nodded. “Just got out.”

He looked all around. “Navy. Wondering why I got out. I want to get back on the water.”

“You here for the interview?” I asked.

He gave a short nod, and we both lapsed into silence.

After another minute or so, the redhead at the receptionist desk called my name, and I returned to where I’d signed in.

She gave me a bright smile and turned over a clipboard.

“If you don’t mind? They’ll be with you soon.”

* * *

Soon was actually another thirty minutes.

Navy guy got up to pace more than once, returning the clipboard he’d been given before coming back over to where we’d been sitting.

“Not exactly big on being prompt, are they?” he asked.

I shrugged and turned another page of the magazine I wasn’t really reading. “Things happen.”

I figured I’d give it another fifteen minutes before I left.

Navy guy left after another five minutes.

I figured I wasn’t far behind him.

But then a door opened.

“Liam?”

Then again, maybe not.

Five minutes later, I was sitting in an office with a cup of coffee while the man in front of me skimmed over my resume, piss poor as it was.

Michelle had helped beef it up, focusing on the military experience. I didn’t know if it was going to make a difference. I still didn’t have experience in this field.

“Have you ever worked security before?”

I met the gaze of the man conducting my interview. He’d introduced himself as Steve. “Four years in the infantry had me working security quite a bit,” I replied. “Mine, the security of those in my unit.”

“But you’ve never done bodyguard work before.”

“No.” Couldn’t really lie about it.

He made a humming sound under his breath, then asked, “What do you do if it comes down to protecting your charge and taking the life of somebody threatening him or her? What do you do?”

“I’d hope that my training would help me find another way than to use deadly force,” I said slowly. “But if it comes down to a person I’m supposed to protect and somebody who poses a threat to that person, then I’d use deadly force.”

Steve nodded. “And if it comes down to you stepping between a bullet and your charge?” He cocked a brow. “My group has managed to avoid that, but on rare occasion, there is such a threat. How do you handle it?”

“I’ve stepped in front of bullets before,” I said. “It’s not my idea of fun, but if I’m supposed to be protecting somebody, and that’s what’s called for, that’s what I’ll do.”

Putting my resume down, Steve studied me for a long moment. “Would you be available this weekend to go through some basics and get your feet wet, so to speak?”

The question caught me off guard. Completely off guard. I’d assumed I’d leave here with a disinterested, we’ll be in touch, and I might or might not hear from them.

So, this question was totally out of the blue for me.

“I’d be available,” I said cautiously.

“Good.” He stood up and gestured for me to follow him. “I’ll be honest, you’re a little greener than most of my men, but we have to start somewhere. I’ve got a new client that I’ll need to put somebody on, and my team’s a little short. You’ll get oriented this weekend, and we’ll see how you do. If things work out well, you’ll start next week.”

“Next week?” I repeated.

He cocked his head. “Is that a problem?”

“No, sir.” I just thought I’d have some time to do a little more preparation than…oh, say…the weekend.

“You’ll hit the ground running this weekend.” He led me from the office and took me back to the receptionist’s desk. “She’ll go over all the paperwork. If you have questions, ask her. She probably knows the answers better than I do.” He gave me another hard look. “You have more suits like that?”

The suit belonged to my cousin. Hopefully, he’d have a few more he could lend me until I could go out and buy some. I might have to take Jake with me, because as far as buying suits went, I had even less experience there than I did at the job I was applying for. Or maybe I’d already been hired. Things were moving too fast for me to tell.

“I have suits,” I said as Steve continued to wait for an answer.

“Good. You’ll need them. That’s standard work wear for the men and women who work for me. If you don’t have at least five suits, let Leslie know, and she’ll advance you some cash for your bonus. FYI, if you don’t last long enough to get the bonus, I’ll take it out of whatever money you make while you’re here.”

“I’ll last,” I replied calmly. I’d never quit yet, so that had to count for something. “But I’ve got funds to buy a few suits.”

He grunted under his breath. “Once you’re done here, if you’ve got time, I want you to speak with Chris Mendoza. He’s one of my top guys, and he finished up an assignment, so he’s here in the building. He’ll give you a crash course before we really put you to the test over the weekend.”

“Thank you.”

Steve slanted a look at me and shook his head. “You might be ready to quit before Mendoza is through with you. So, don’t thank me yet.”

* * *

It was a good three hours before I left Steadman.

I had an identification card tucked into my wallet and the address of a club I needed to be at the following afternoon.

Mendoza had said he’d meet me there, then clapped me on my shoulder.

I could see why Mendoza was one of Steve’s best.

He’d put me through the wringer, and my body already ached despite the fact that we’d gone at each other fairly lightly.

He’d wanted to assess my hand to hand skills and had decided there was no time like the present.

He must have been pleased enough with what he saw because he grinned at me as I sat down and sucked water from a bottle after a hard thirty minutes on a mat with him.

And I’d been in a pair of dress shoes that were a half-size too small and a suit that probably cost more than I made in a month. He’d let me take the jacket off, but that was it.

Now the suit was wrinkled, and it looked like I might have been sleeping in it.

But what did any of that matter?

I had a job.

I just hoped I didn’t end up in over my head.