Armed and Fabulous (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (59 page)

"Me too." She was careful not to squeeze my arm when she hugged me
,
and I was careful to give her the biggest hug I could
.

~

So here I was a month later, no work and nothing to do. I had a coffee, a magazine, a strong resistance to daytime television and a new alarm system for my apartment, courtesy of Lily's parent
s who were shocked
when they heard
everything that happened.

When someone knocked at the door, I took my time answering.

Solomon
was
wait
ing
in the hallway,
his
hands in his pockets, casually lounging like he had nothing better to do than
loiter
in my hall. He wa
s clean
-
shaven,
and
his eyes
were
soft
like liquid chocolate
. He wore black pants and a shirt with tonal black stripes, two buttons open at the neck
.
He looked elegant, strong, smokin’ sexy.
After I got over my
initial
surprise at seeing him,
my stomach doing the usual little flip whenever he
appeared
,
I smiled
warmly
and so did he.

"Come in," I said, opening the door
and stepping aside
. Solomon pushed himself off the wall and stepped
through,
entering
the living room
.
I watched him walk, wrenching my eyes, with a mental sigh, from the way the pants molded to his butt. He was a fine, fine man. Funnily, it hadn’t occurred to me that I would never see him again. I just assumed he’d turn up one day and here he was. With the case wrapped up, I wondered what he could possibly want.

The apartment was neat and tidy, though I had to replace a few things Vincent ruined when he r
ummag
ed through it.
Solomon
,
as usual
,
saw everything and said nothing, finally turning to me in the doorway. I held still, the sound of my heartbeat echoing in my ears, as he ran his eyes over me.

"You're still a brunett
e," Solomon said at last, surprising me as he gave an approving nod.

I self-consciously smoothed a hand over my hair.
I missed the blonde and it had taken some getting used to
,
but I liked what I saw in the mirror.
"I kinda like it."

"
And y
ou're not working?" Solomon asked,
glancing at
the half-drunk coffee on the table and the
open magazine.

I shrugged. "My tem
ping agency
can’t find
anything for me right now." Actually, I hadn't asked. I wasn't in dire need of the cash. Maddox
ensured
that my last couple of paychecks came through, and the taskforce had, surprisingly, made a contribution
,
given the work I'd done for the case.
I earned
a commendation too, plus
,
they covered my excess medical expenses.
The only thing they couldn’t do for me was
advise
me where to go from here out. That was something I hadn’t decided yet either.

"How about you come work for me
?
"
he
said
.

I tried to keep my face passive
,
but I think a little surprise leaked out
as my eyes widened
. "Work for you?" I asked, the words slipping from my throat easily.

"It's part time at first, flexible hours."

"Doing what? I'm over filing." So,
so
over filing.
Though I
wasn't tot
ally sure what I wanted to do with my
life,
the last couple of months had made it clear what I didn't want to be doing.
I didn’t want to be the admin monkey anymore. I wanted more.
I owed it to myself.

"There will be some
filing, but only your own stuff,” Solomon clarified before my spirits dropped. “
I'm opening a small agency here.
Private i
nvestigations
for individuals and corporations
. The usual stuff. S
urveillance, tracing,
background checks
for starters. I could do with another private invest
igator to work with the team I've put
together."

"I'm not exactly qualified," I pointed out.

"You don't have to be an ex-detective
or have been in the field
. You just have to be smart. People talk to you. They like you. And you think like an investigator, only..."

"Only?"

"Onl
y different," Solomon concluded and there was the ghost of a smile again.
One that told me he believed in me.
“I have an ex-detective, two agency men, and a cybercriminal on my team
already,” he told me, intriguing me further.

“So why do you want me?”
I waited, breath stilled.

“Because you’re
nothing
like them at all.”

I pondered his offer. My own hours were appealing. A wage was definitely appealing. Not being Serena's
sounding board for every aspect of her pregnancy
while she waited to pop was appealing
too. Working with Solomon? Not so sure about
having him as my boss, working
beside him
every day,
but I figured I would never be bored. I might even get a work ethic.
Maybe this was exactly what I was waiting for.

"How about you try it on for size? Give it a few months. See if you like it. If you don't, no harm done." Solomon shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll train you."

The
words were out of my mouth before I really thought about it properly. "When do I start?"

"Monday. Ten a.m." Solomon pulled a business card from his pocket and passed it to me. I took it, flipping it over to read.
Stretched
in large
black
letters
across the thick white card was
“
Solomon
Agency
.”
Underneath:
“
Investigations.
”
Then there was a phone number and an address downtown in
what I vaguely recalled to be
a nice building
that had been
vacant for
a while
. I tucked the card into my shirt pocket. "Don't be late," he warned, starting towards the door.

I followed him. "Solomon?"

With his hand on the door handle, he turned to me, one eyebrow raised, waiting.

"What do I wear?" I asked.

"Whatever you like."

"What do PIs wear?" I pressed. I had suits, dresses, jeans, but I had no idea what would be suitable and I hated getting it wrong.

"That's the whole point, Lexi. I don't want you to look like
a
PI. I want you to be the person it doesn't occur to people to suspect."

"Hah."
Clear as mud.

He pulled the door open.

"So you do like me, huh?" I said, following him out. I don't know why
I said it. It just slipped out; maybe because I still wasn’t sure.
And I guess I missed him popping up when I least expected it
, his cool eyes assessing everything
.

Solomon turned to me, just on the threshold
,
and stepped closer
, back inside my apartment
. I held my space, unmoving as he leaned in. His lips brushed my cheek, moving a little closer
,
then landing on my lips for the briefest of moments. "Oh, I
like
you," he said. Then he was gone. For a long time, I stood in the
hallway, my heart beating fast.
I shut the door and went back to my magazine. Gossip counted as keeping up with current affairs, right?

A couple
of
minutes later, another knock sounded at my door.
Maddox
smiled broadly when he saw me and I stood on tiptoes to kiss him.
“Hi, Adam.”

"I think I saw Solomon," he said, taking hold of my hand, lacing his fingers through mine and kissing me again. He carried a grocery bag in one hand for the dinner he had promised to make me once
, a promise I decided to collect
tonight
.

"He was here. You just missed him."

"You know
,
he was never really with the
FBI.
"
Maddox shut the door behind him
as I tugged him inside
. He
shrugged his jacket off,
no sign of stiffness in his shoulder, and hung
it next to mine on the rack
. “He was on some kind of loan
due to his financial crime expertise and field experience
. I don’t know who the hell he worked for.
I’m not even sure Miller knew.
I don’t even know if Solomon is his first or last name!
”

I thought about it for a moment
but felt no surprise at the revelation
.
Solomon was quiet, strong, and probably deadly.
I didn’t know about romantically, but I did know
I would always want him on my team.
I also knew his first name.
“Strikes me that he was working the right side, who
m
ever he worked for.”

“I guess. He’s left, anyway.
I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks.
”
Maddox stepped closer, his hand running over my hair as he smiled down at me. His eyes sparkled.

"I figured."

"He never struck me as an
agency
man," said Maddox, but he didn't expand on that, instead asking, "Did he say what he's doing now?"