Free Revenge: A Bad Boy Romance by Jessica Ashe Page A

uneventful. Denton spent most of the time in his office, and he only had me working on mundane chores like setting up meetings with people he wanted to see, and getting him out of meetings with those he didn’t.
    I did my best to make a mental note of the names and faces in case Lois asked who he was meeting. They all looked like genuine businessmen and women, but then I suppose sophisticated criminals would hardly go around in burglar outfits carrying bags marked ‘swag.’
    Denton never did go to the hospital to get treatment for the stab wound at first. He’d initially lied and told me he had, but the wound kept opening up and bleeding onto his shirt. When the blood appeared during an important meeting, he finally agreed to go and have it looked at. It appeared he did just that, because the wound never came open again.
    A few quiet days in the office came as welcome relief after seeing the fight in the nightclub, but I soon became antsy. Denton let me accompany him to almost every meeting except the off-site ones which he insisted on going to alone.
    Those were the ones I needed to be a part of. It was in Denton’s interest that I go along. I wanted to get as much information on criminals other than Denton as possible. Anything to distract Lois from arresting him.
    I knew there was a chance my judgment was impaired, but I just couldn’t see Denton as a criminal mastermind. He got his hands dirty occasionally, but that should be a job for the police, not the FBI.
    Denton was even a good boss. I’d been told that personal assistants often got walked all over and worked into the ground, but Denton was nothing like that. He was courteous and respectful--albeit a little cheeky as well at times--and always brought me back a coffee or sandwich if he’d left the office for lunch.
    I just couldn’t reconcile that man with the one in the FBI’s files. Who was right? The twenty-three year old, fresh out of college, or a federal organization with billions of dollars in resources?  
    My brain answered the question, but I ignored it. Stupid brain.
    “Care to go out for lunch?” Denton asked, suddenly appearing in front of me. I must have been daydreaming. Men Denton’s size shouldn’t be able to sneak up on me that easily.
    “Sure,” I replied. “I could do with getting out of the office.”  
    Hint, hint, take me with you next time you have a meeting off-site.
    We headed out of the office and walked in the direction of a small Italian place that I knew was ludicrously expensive, and yet somehow popular. Denton apparently knew the owner, so we’d have no trouble getting a table.
    As we left the office building, I noticed a woman in her mid-twenties standing around by the entrance playing with her phone. I wouldn’t have given her a second thought, but she was wearing a top that my mom had bought me for Christmas. One of the ones that was deemed too nice for me to now wear in my persona as a PA. Much to my disgust, she wore it better than me.
    The woman looked up from her phone and stared at us as we walked passed. She could have been an ex-girlfriend--or one night stand--of Denton’s, but I could swear she was looking at me, not him.  
    I wouldn’t have given it much thought, but I saw her again when we stopped outside the restaurant while Denton took a phone call.  
    Part of the FBI’s basic training included learning how to tail people, even though it seemed like a skill more suited to 1980s Russia than modern day America. With all those cameras around, who needed to physically tail anyone these days? Hell, most people willingly shared their location via Twitter and Instagram. It wasn’t exactly difficult to keep tabs on people.  
    This woman could have done with a few lessons in how to be subtle. When we stopped, she stopped, keeping about fifty feet back at all times. She even pretended to use her phone, but held it up in front of her face in a way that made it clear she was taking a picture. Not at