Read Online Trouble in Tampa by Nicole Williams - Free Book Online

men, but dangerous ones weren’t part of the deal. G had made it crystal clear from the start that if we ever found ourselves in a situation with a Target where we feared for our personal safety, we were to pull the plug. At that point, I wasn’t only fearful for my personal safety—I was fearful for my life.
    No one deserved to be in the kind of relationship Mrs. Tucker was, but how much farther could I take it before Rob became violent with me? How much longer was I willing to take that risk? I’d taken self-defense classes, and I carried a mini collection of weapons in my purse, but no amount of skill or measure of defense could guard against a person like Rob Tucker. He wasn’t only violent—he was cunning. Violence alone was a red flag the size of the Pacific, but violence matched with intelligence was the deadliest combination known to humankind.
    I knew if I called G to talk it over with her, there’d be no back and forth. She’d order me to drop the case and get back to California. She didn’t want any of her Eves in a compromising situation, let alone the one working her coveted Ten. The majority of our domestic violence Targets kept their violence within their home. To date, I’d never heard of one raising his hand to an Eve . . . yet I was one misstep away from being laid out by Rob Tucker’s backhand.
    So I was at an impasse. I couldn’t just give up the Errand and wash my hands of Mrs. Tucker, yet if I kept pursuing Mr. Tucker, I was playing with fire. The kind that would literally burn me. Maybe I could hire some kind of body guard. One that hid in the shadows and only made themselves known when and if the occasion called for it . . . but that seemed like a far cry from an ideal solution.
    Whatever my decision, I’d have to make it by morning because time was one of the few luxuries we weren’t allowed. Which meant I’d be getting very little sleep as I deliberated how to proceed. Good thing I’d just showed two and a half cherry Cokes how it’s done.
    Speaking of . . .
    Before stepping inside the elevator and heading to the top floor, I detoured to the little convenience shop in the lobby. Not that I needed any more liquid calories, but I could never get enough caffeine. Besides, I could run it all off on the treadmill in the hotel gym in the morning. After paying for another soda, a bottle of water, and a pair of nail clippers because I couldn’t seem to find the ones I kept in my toiletry bag, I trudged for the elevator. The lobby was quiet, probably because it was close to midnight.
    After sliding my card key into the elevator, I punched the top floor and leaned into the wall. While the penthouses in Tampa weren’t as swanky as the ones in Seattle, my room was spacious and quiet. There was only one other penthouse, and I doubted if anyone had occupied it since I checked in.
    Right as the elevator doors whooshed open, my phone chimed. One of my phones chimed. I carried close to half a dozen when I worked dual Errands. However, I knew the ring right away. I might have only heard it a couple of times, but it had somehow been committed to memory that quickly. It was my Callahan Industries phone, and to my knowledge, only one person had that number. Damn that smile that had slipped into place before I’d caught it . . .
    “What are you doing calling me this late?” I greeted, trying to sound stern, as I stepped off the elevator.
    Of course, Henry chuckled. “How is nine at night late for you?”
    Great, Eve. Way to go. The first words out of your mouth are already a mistake. Henry didn’t know I was on the East Coast and that it was just past midnight. He thought I was in California.
    “Well, it’s later than where you are,” was my So there comeback.
    “Technically, it isn’t . . . since Seoul is eleven hours ahead of you.”
    I heard the smile in his voice, which made me imagine it, which made my own form. Again. Damn it. Damn it. DAMN IT.
    “Could you tone your know-it-all down