Armed With Steele by Kyra Jacobs

hit it off from the start, and he’d more or less offered her the job before he’d left the building.
    The grin slipped from my face as I realized their chance meeting was coming back to haunt us. If he’d never walked into her life, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Her in a coma, me with a delusional cop in our living room.
    “Rumor has it, they’ll be posting her job by the end of the week.”
    I spun around. “So soon?”
    “Yep. That means you have a few days yet to think it over.”
    He stood and crossed the living room to put a hand on each of my shoulders. That damn appealing cologne of his followed him over and wrapped itself around my senses. I momentarily forgot how to breathe.
    “Promise me you’ll at least think about it?”
    I stared into his deep blue eyes and felt my resolve weaken again. Damn, he could be so convincing. I needed him to leave before I agreed to more than I could handle. “Fine.”
    “That’s my girl.”
    * * * *
    Sleep eluded me for quite some time that night. Physically, I was exhausted. Mentally, my mind felt like it was on a perpetual tilt-a-whirl. Round and around it went, humming with activity while I tried to process everything Nate had said.
    Grace had likely been run off the road. The police weren’t going to pursue the investigation. Were told not to pursue it, actually. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now she was also the prime suspect in an embezzlement accusation at Maxwell Office Solutions—one of the region’s most successful organizations, where she held her dream job.
    I had no doubt it was a set-up, that she was completely innocent. But how could I prove it? Or should I say, we prove it?
    I sighed and tried to block out the murmurings in my head.
    Do it for Grace, Jessica.
    She’d do it for you, Jessica.
    Don’t be a chicken, Jessica.
    I squeezed my eyes tight and curled into a ball, praying for my mind to quiet. But it was no use. The guilt I’d felt since the accident had reached its boiling point.
    Something had to be done to relieve it, or I was going to go insane.
    So just tell him yes.
    It would be the noble thing to do. This wasn’t about some morbid curiosity to know exactly what happened on her fateful ride home, it was about redeeming Grace’s reputation as a dependable, honest employee. And as much as I hated to admit it, Nate was right—I was perfect for the role. No one knew her better than I, or would fight for her harder.
    But was I truly capable of working undercover? And holding two jobs at the same time?
    How hard can it be?
    The plan seemed simple enough. Apply for Grace’s old job at Maxwell, get hired, and then dig for clues while pretending to be an administrative assistant. Only, I didn’t have the foggiest idea how to be an AA. Didn’t know how to answer multi-lined phones, or schedule appointments, or write short hand. Heck, I didn’t even know if people still used short hand.
    Worse yet, I’d actually have to get up at a set time and physically go to work. And socialize with coworkers. Probably even have to pretend I enjoyed it, too.
    And if all that wasn’t enough, I’d also be putting myself in the direct line of a coma-inducing psycho. What if I ended up in the same state as Grace? Or worse?
    I rolled over onto my other side and tried to silence the out and out war now raging in my head. I didn’t want another job. Didn’t want to deal with cubicles and coworkers, coffee makers and water coolers.
    And I especially didn’t want to partner up with an extremely good-looking cop who, if I wasn’t careful, might accidentally pry the scabs off my still-healing heart. I just wanted my Grace back.
    * * * *
    Nate haunted my dreams that night. And the next morning, I woke to find his stupid cologne haunting my living room and kitchen as well. So when I got the call from Sharon that Grace had gotten settled into her new, temporary home, I jumped at the chance to escape. I doused both rooms with fifty squirts or so