Free Stealing Justice (The Justice Team) by Misty Evans, Adrienne Giordano Page B

just say I understand your concerns.”
    Understanding them and addressing them were two different things. Whether or not she could do this his way would have to be determined.
    Later.
    Much later.

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    Syd always liked Mondays. In her mind, Mondays meant a new start, a fresh canvas upon which to paint the week. As miserable and untrusting as she could be, it made little sense not to feel hopeful for the week ahead. Particularly in her line of work where one battered woman after another came and went from her life.
    This particular Monday, Syd wasn’t feeling so hopeful. No. On this day, she’d just planted a listening device along the underside of the lamp on her desk. All to spy on a man she’d grown to admire for his unyielding support of mistreated women. For two years, Syd had watched Ian Goldberg fight tirelessly for the women in their care. Women who’d been wronged by men they loved. And who supposedly loved them.
    All these years of shoring up her reserves, mistrusting the people who came into her life, hadn’t prepared her for this. Even if she’d been wary of Ian at first, eventually he’d won her over. And now, suddenly, Syd understood the betrayal the battered women who came to her must feel.
    Then again, Fed Boy could be wrong. If so, that blasted bug under the lamp might tell them so.
    A knock sounded on the closed door.
    Showtime.
    “Come in.”
    Ian came through the door in his usual spiffy suit, silk tie and perfectly groomed blond hair. An attorney by trade, he made no bones about flashing his success. Until now, it never bothered Syd because he’d been giving so much back through the shelter. But if he were using the shelter as a front? Well, that would simply piss her off. And a pissed-off Sydney was not a nice person.
    “Good morning,” Ian said. “Ready for our weekly meeting?”
    Syd ticked off Fed Boy’s list of rules for undercover operations.
    Rule one, befriend Ian.
    Check.
    Rule two, perform fishing expedition to see if Ian would offer her a job as an escort.
    Here we go.
    Syd glanced down at the credit card bill—prop number one—she’d brought from home. Slowly, she folded it, but made a point of frowning as she did so.
    Ian cocked his head. “You don’t seem like yourself. Everything okay?”
    “It’s nothing. Just a lot on my mind. Let’s get on with our meeting. I’m sure you have clients to see today.”
    He eased into one of her guest chairs, making sure to unbutton his suit jacket before sitting. “You sure? If you need something, maybe I can help.”
    Act natural.
    She shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m fine. It’s nothing life-shattering.” She picked up a folder and handed it to him. “The weekly update.”
    He set the folder down. “Syd, talk to me. Clearly, something is bothering you.”
    A moment passed. She counted off another few seconds in her head, decided the pregnant pause was just pregnant enough and sighed. “My car is dying. It needs work, but it’s old and not worth putting any money into. My credit is stretched to the limit due to my student loans.” She smiled. “Thank you, Georgetown U. Anyway, I think I need a second job,” she held up her hand, “it’s only temporary. I won’t let it interfere with our work here. The shelter always comes first. I just need some quick cash to take care of the car issue.”
    He waved her off. “I can give you a company car.”
    She’d anticipated that and prepared for it. “Absolutely not. We’re a non-profit. Our benefactors wouldn’t understand having the expense of a car in our budget. Nor would I ask them to. All the money should go to the women, not to a car for me. Really, Ian, I’ll work it out. Let’s move on with our meeting.”
    Ian eyed her. “What sort of work are you thinking?”
    “No idea. I’m guessing retail. I’d have to do it in the evenings and on the weekends. Retail doesn’t pay all that much though.”
    “Forget retail.” He sat back.