Working as a civilian was different than working for the government. There was a lot of red tape involved in bringing down criminals outside of the military backing. While he was wearing a uniform, he never had the worry of protocol like not stepping on toes or the finer politics of business. Across the pond he was given a task and he and his special unit completed the mission with whatever means necessary—usually consisting of disarming IEDs or taking down dangerous insurgents. Civilian duties had taken some modifications, not only for Egan but the entire team that were also used to wearing a uniform. From the beginning he’d wanted to take on cases that local police wouldn’t—or couldn’t handle because of all the invisible barriers. VK wanted to fight criminals from a different angle. Several months ago they busted up a massive trafficking/drug ring that put VK on the map.
One thing was for sure, VK prided themselves on completing any mission to the best of their ability, with the same determination they had used when they wore a uniform, and if it wasn’t possible to complete a task, Egan had no problem turning away a client.
“Can I help you, sir?” the security guard asked. Egan flashed his clearance badge and the guard’s expression filled with respect. “Mr. Banks, please go right on up. Mr. Langley is expecting you.”
Giving the other man a courteous nod, Egan stepped over to the glass elevator and waited for the polished doors to open. Inside, he stabbed the button to the top floor and he saw a reflection of himself in the gleam of the metal. A suit wasn’t his usual attire, and certainly not something he enjoyed wearing, but he realized for some cases he had to fit in.
The doors swished open and he strode out into the lavish lobby, drawing the attention of the brunette sitting behind a tall desk. She stood and gave him a lovely smile as he approached. “Mr. Banks, please have a seat and I’ll let Mr. Langley know you’re here.”
“Thank you.” He took a seat on the sleek green sofa, but he didn’t have a chance to get comfortable because a door to his right opened and a tall, gangly man in a designer pinstriped suit stepped out to welcome Egan with a starched grin.
“Mr. Banks, nice to meet you. I’m Byron Stark, Mr. Langley’s manager. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to his office.”
He followed the curt man to the end of the hall to a set of heavy wooden doors. Stark opened one, stuck his head inside to say something, then stepped aside for Egan to enter. Mr. Langley strolled across the room to welcome him and they exchanged some pleasantries about the weather. Egan, who was usually calm and collected in any situation, no matter how dire, felt his chest tighten as he glimpsed the beautiful woman across the room. What the hell was she doing here at Langley Industries? How did he not know?
This put a wrench in the entire case…
~~~~~
The phone rang and Novah picked up the receiver. “Mr. Langley’s office.” Immediately, she cringed at ShyAnne Langley’s voice. She only called when she was angry at her husband and Novah always got the brunt of the woman’s attitude.
“I need to speak with my husband. Now!”
“Mrs. Langley, he’s not available at the moment.”
“He doesn’t pay you enough to lie for him, honey. Did you give him my other messages?”
“Yes, I gave him all your messages. He’s been in meetings all day.” The excuse seemed to come out on its own. It was true, she didn’t get paid enough to lie, but she loved her job and wanted—needed—to keep it.
“He hasn’t called so apparently you didn’t.” A raspy sigh rattled the phone. “Just tell him it’s important.”
“Yes, I will be sure to pass the message on to him.” The words were barely out before there was a loud click signaling that Mrs. Langley had hung up. Laying the receiver back in the cradle, Novah grabbed the pile of messages along with her notepad and stepped down the hall and into the office. “Mr. Langley?”
He brought his head up from where he was studying a document and removed his reading glasses. “Yes, Novah?”
“Your wife has called again. She wanted me to tell you that it’s important.” She didn’t much like Mrs. Langley, but Novah wished her boss would handle his own personal affairs instead of making her the go-between.
His color drained. “I’ll call her back at the first opportunity.” Nothing in his behavior proved that the return call would be anytime soon.
“I wanted to give you your other messages.” She strolled across the plush carpet and set the notes on his desk. “Is there anything else you need before I leave for the evening, sir?”
“Have a seat for a moment, please.”
Sitting in one of the cushioned chairs, she looked at her boss across the expanse of the massive mahogany desk, waiting while he skimmed through the messages.
Peter Langley was a distinguished man with slick silver-black hair and pensive aquamarine eyes. He’d hired her as his assistant six months ago and he’d always been professional and kind—always appeared stylish and put together in expensive, tailored suits although he seemed agitated this evening. He tugged at his red silk tie, exhaling as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Novah had heard the rumors swirling about him and his wife. Apparently he’d caught her in bed with another man and they were now living separate lives, but because he was running for governor, the estranged couple put on a good show for voters and supporters at the many social
