Home > Charmed (Death Escorts #2)(5)

Charmed (Death Escorts #2)(5)
Author: Cambria Hebert

Ms. Toth completely forgot I was standing there and her body practically slid into a puddle as she leaned forward closer to him. Then she giggled.

I tried not to gag.

I turned around and saw Charming leaning across the counter, his right elbow planted wide, causing his black leather jacket to fall open to reveal a cerulean dress shirt stretched across his chest. He flashed his perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth at her, and I swear I heard her stutter.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he said. “I was giving your employee a hard time. I guess I was feeling a little temperamental for being in such a long line.”

“Oh, well.” Her hand fluttered to her neck. “The lines are very long today. End of the month and all,” she explained. He flashed his teeth again and she stopped talking to stare.

Very artfully, he pushed off the counter and ran his very long fingers through his cleverly messy hair, and I swear it made it look even more perfect. If I didn’t know what a complete and utter loser he was, I might fall prey to his… well…. his charm. Damn it.

“I promise to behave,” he said solemnly, pulling a paper from the inside of his jacket.

She was still staring, completely dumbstruck. Thankfully, Lela called out her name for assistance with her computer and Ms. Toth managed to tear her eyes away from the oversized Ken doll and walk away.

His eyes, full of smugness, found mine. “What was it you were saying again? That I wasn’t deserving of my name?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed.

He stretched the paper on the counter before me. “I need to get the registration for my car renewed.”

I smiled sweetly. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m afraid you’ve been standing in the wrong line. Registration renewals are in that line over there,” I pointed to the longest line in the building and I felt myself grin with evil glee. Who needed a sugar rush when you could torture the people you hated?

“You’re lying,” he growled.

“Nope.” I waved a couple fingers in his direction. “Buh-bye now,”

He leaned over the counter once more, all trace of his fake charm gone. “I know you can do whatever needs done on that ancient-ass computer in front of you.”

I gasped prudently. “Sir, I take offense to your tone. I can assure you that if I could help you with what you need I would.” I batted my eyes at him.

His perfect teeth formed a grimace and he was about to say something very un-charming, I was sure, when an older man with a cane stepped up behind him. “You heard the lady,” he said, “Now quit holding up the line.”

Before he could shove away, he leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. Gone was the charming air he used on my boss. Replacing it was something cold and calculating, more in line with the man I remembered who came into my best friend’s apartment not too long ago with a gun and kidnapped her. I reached for the phone again, fully intending to call the police and turn in his ass.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said low. “You know exactly what I’m capable of.”

Unease slithered down my spine. I tossed the blond curls away from my face and held his stare. “But you have no idea what I am capable of. Get the hell outta my line.”

I watched him go to the other line and insert himself at the end. My heart was beating so fast that I had to gasp for breath. I wanted to demand an early break, to leave this room, which now felt contaminated by his very presence.

I didn’t do any of those things. I picked up my half-empty Coke, took a swig, and called for the next person in line. I worked on autopilot all the while keeping an eye on him as he moved up the line. I should have just bypassed the system and did what he needed. Then he would’ve been gone. And I wouldn’t be stuck in this room, which now felt entirely too small, with a Death Escort.

When he finally made it through and got his stupid little sticker for his license plate, he walked toward the exit, and I swear every single female in the place turned and watched him go. If they only knew what I did—that he was an assassin for the most deadly person on the planet.

Before disappearing into the cold Alaskan spring, he stopped and turned, his eyes spearing mine, and then he smiled, a cocky, arrogant grin. Fury spiked through my limbs, making me shake. I hated guys like him. Guys that thought nothing could touch them. Guys that thought they were God’s gift to the world.

He was right about one thing, though. I couldn’t call the police. Turning him in would only backfire on me and further hurt Piper, who lost too much at the hands of Charming and his boss. But there were other ways to pay someone back for the wrongs they committed.

I felt a smile tug my lips.

Payback was a bitch.

Chapter Three

“Steam shower - a type of bathing where a humidifying steam generator produces water vapor that is dispersed around a person's body.”

Charming

Rosalyn Elizabeth Kennedy Sinclair wasn’t a woman I could just “bump” into at the local grocery store in town. She wasn’t the kind of girl that went to the same coffee place every morning for some frou-frou no calorie coffee drink, either. She had people that got that for her. She wasn’t insecure, unpopular, or isolated—all the things that would make her an easy Target. In fact, she was overly popular, beautiful, and had probably been trained since birth to be cautious of people that weren’t in her immediate circle of friends.

For a regular con man, stalker, or assassin, she was practically untouchable.

I wasn’t a regular kind of guy. I was an Escort.

Still, setting up the perfect way to “meet” someone like her took some creative thinking. I needed an in that wouldn’t raise suspicion or look even slightly contrived.

I clicked through another link on the computer and then sat back, rubbing my eye with the palm of my hand. This was the part of the job I hated. Research, learning… work. Rarely did I have to actually try hard on a job. Usually my charm, looks, and money got me to the finish line. Usually I could skate on what I saw and could figure out the rest. It was rare I had to do this amount of research on someone whose days were numbered. It really never made sense. Why bother learning the favorite color, food, and movie of someone I would never really know anyway? It was all about time management. It seemed like a more effective use of my time was to charm my way in and finish the job.

Maybe that’s why the last couple jobs weren’t complete successes, an annoying voice in the back of my mind whispered.

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