It would be better to make a move herself.
Even if she’d never done it before.
There was a first time for everything.
Careful what you wish for.
For years, Pierce had yearned for a normal life. Now he had one and he was bored out of his mind. He’d tried to make a fresh start in Manhattan, the most interesting city he knew, but found himself a solitary man among a crowd of strangers. In the past, he’d welcomed moments of privacy but now he was restless. His phone didn’t ring with unusual and dangerous job offers. He didn’t fly to exotic locations or take training on new technology—and the booby traps in his apartment were never sprung. He didn’t dive into hidden databanks on secret networks and he didn’t make clandestine plans that would unfurl perfectly. He didn’t have a perfectly trained team at his back, poised to spring into action. Nobody interrupted his plans with urgent messages or demands. He was keenly aware of all the things that were missing in his days and nights—and that the situation had been his choice.
He’d been sure that he’d find the perfect challenge by now, and he didn’t like being wrong.
Pierce worked out a lot, spending the majority of his days and evenings at Flatiron Five Fitness—he was doing something, even if it was just another hundred lifts. He still didn’t sleep much, but he never had—he was ready, always ready, for the game to start.
Except this time, nothing was going to start. There was no game and there would be none. His consulting contacts had run dry, as he’d known they inevitably would. He was retired and essentially forgotten.
At forty-eight.
Pierce was in prime shape. He understood the nuances and the pitfalls of his chosen profession. He knew how to build a team and nurture each member, even while building them all to greater effectiveness. He knew exactly where to look for the data he needed and how to spot gaps in his plan. He was a machine when it came to strategizing.
All the same, stepping out of his former life had seemed—at the time—like a choice that was exactly right. It had that resonance that he instinctively trusted, the feel of an idea that’s time has come. That sense had never led him wrong before. He was glad to be out of his old business, but desperately wanted something to do.
Something to devour his time and his attention.
Something fascinating and fulfilling.
Something he couldn’t name.
He checked his mental list again, wondering what detail he’d missed, what addition would make his life satisfying. He had financial security and good health. He had an apartment, a routine and a circle of acquaintances. He had time. Buckets of time. Way too much fucking time. He’d taken cooking classes and was finally learning Japanese, a longtime dream.
The days, hours and minutes dragged.
What was his life without explosions, surprises, spies and stalkers, or without intrigue, adventure and danger? What about risk? He missed risk and its companion, adrenaline. He felt like he might as well be dead, if this was all the world had to offer.
Maybe he needed a consultant to teach him about ‘normal’ life.
Pierce didn’t have to think twice about who he’d choose to do that. Jacqueline Morgan, the human resources manager at the fitness club, was the most intriguing woman he’d encountered in a long time. She also was an avid kickboxer and routinely defeated all challengers. It was a treat to watch her fight, all elegant strength and controlled power. She was a warrior, like Pierce, and one who was often underestimated because of her age and gender. He admired that she used that oversight against her opponents, often surprising them, usually vanquishing them.
From first glimpse, Pierce had wanted to know more about her. He’d fought the urge to research her, knowing that real people didn’t do background checks on each other before exchanging greetings. His long-standing habit was to avoid emotional entanglements, but that tendency had been cultivated during his career. Everything had changed and he needed to learn some new skills.
It was six on a random Monday night, and Pierce was heading to the rock-climbing wall, right on schedule. Thom, the burly instructor, waved to him from the base of the wall.
He was talking to Jacquie.
Was opportunity knocking? Pierce was more than ready to answer.
Jacquie was dressed in a dark skirt and a pale gold blouse, like a T-shirt but made of a softer material. Maybe silk. Her hair was long and straight, hanging past her shoulders when it was loose. She had it wound up in a messy bun, probably because she was working. It had been dark brown but over the holidays, she’d colored it red. Pierce loved the bold color on her and thought it suited her style perfectly. She had her back to him and was talking to Thom, but there was a tension in her stance and he wondered what she was worried about.
“Hey,” Thom said, raising a hand to Pierce.
“Hey,” Pierce replied. He watched as Jacquie turned, slowly, then her gaze slid over him. She smiled and something flickered in her eyes. “Hello, Jacquie. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Just checking files,” she said, tapping the folders she was carrying. “This week, we’ll generate income receipts for last year for all the part-timers.”
“Like I said, I haven’t moved,” Thom said.
“Good. Thanks for confirming that.” Jacquie seemed to make a note on the one file but Pierce noticed that she didn’t actually write anything on it. “I guess I’d better get down to the kickboxing studio,” she said, looking between the two of them.
“You’ve probably got a line of contenders,” Thom teased.
“All the usuals, though,” Jacquie said. She sighed, then looked at Pierce again. There was a glitter in her eyes that made his pulse skip. “I really could use some fresh blood.”
“Not me,” Thom said, then jerked a thumb toward the wall and spoke to Pierce.
