Soft Target by Mia Kay Page B

“Are you okay?”
    “It’s just unusual,” Gray muttered. “No wonder you—”
    She shook her head. “I don’t tell them what to do. Most of the time they aren’t aware of it, if we’ve done it right. They see a bump in their pay, or the company adds a new benefit, or we tell them cross-training for their job will help someone else. The scholarships are merit-based and evaluated every year. The professionals, by the time they’ve fulfilled their contracts and paid off their debt, have built their own client base so they want to stay.”
    He was still confused, but he nodded for her to continue and she looked down her list to find her place. Since he was staring, he saw her knuckles whiten around her pen. “The Mitchells were at the hospital the other day with Sarah. I’ll see what they need.”
    “Jerry?” Gray asked. “I met him and his wife at church. What’s wrong with Sarah?”
    “Down syndrome children often have weak hearts. Sarah has fought hers for years.”
    “Can I help?” Gray persisted. “I know I’m new, but I’d like to help them if I can.”
    “I’ll ask,” Maggie said, her smile curving briefly. “Thanks.”
    She turned to her brother. “That’s it.”
    Nate dropped his pen. “We’re adjourned until after my honeymoon.”
    Maggie went to the bar for shot glasses and a bottle. Nate poured, and they all joined his toast. “Here’s to another good month.”
    Gray’s throat was still burning from the whiskey when he walked out of the office behind Nate. “I have to take a trip to Boise this afternoon. I’ll make sure Max sticks with Maggie.”
    “Sure thing,” Nate said as he walked away. “Be careful and we’ll catch up tonight.”
    Gray turned, only to bump into Fitz. “If you’ve got time, once you get settled, I’ve got a few clients I’d like to discuss with you,” the accountant said.
    “Huh?” Clients? He’d never had clients in his life. He was the boogeyman other lawyers protected their clients from.
    “They aren’t Mathis employees, and they need some advice on tax matters. You are getting licensed in Idaho, aren’t you?”
    He was, but only because it looked funny to Maggie if he didn’t, and only because she’d filled out the paperwork. “Why don’t I give you a call in a week or so? After I get my feet under me.”
    Fitz nodded and left, and Gray watched him go. It might be fun, being able to help someone. Maybe he could do it quickly, and as long as it wasn’t a criminal case Bob shouldn’t care.
    Alone with Maggie, he motioned her to the bar and the plans spread over the surface. “I have to run an errand, so you’re in charge.”
    “Gee, thanks,” she drawled.
    He looked down into her sparkling eyes and bright smile, thankful they’d returned after yesterday. “Hush. Focus on this for a minute, okay? They’ll need you to sign off on it before they leave, and I don’t want them half-assing it because—”
    “Because I’m a woman and they think I’m undereducated?”
    “Yeah,” he snorted. They’d only make that mistake once.
    Sliding the plans closer to her, he dragged his finger along each line in the drawing tracking them through the building so she’d see what she was paying for. Construction noise and shouted conversations coaxed him nearer and forced him to bend to her ear. When his muscles and bones protested, he sat and she inched toward him. The thrum under his skin had nothing to do with pain or noise. It was her.
    “What’s this?” she asked, pointing at a far corner.
    Without thinking, he put his hand on the small of her back and leaned across her. “That’s where the controls go, by the back door. That way, you don’t have to leave the door open to disarm it, and you can slam the door if someone comes at you from the lot. Speaking of, I’m going to talk to Carl about cleaning out the undergrowth back there. Okay?”
    “You’ve given a lot of thought to this,” she whispered.
    Right now he was thinking