“Easy, easy,” I mumble to myself.

The pole is in sight.

“Watch the power line to your left.”

I can just imagine how angry Ozzie would be if I electrocuted his drone. I’d forever be known as The Executioner, I’m sure of it. And as much as I’d like to get rid of the Bo Peep moniker, I’d prefer it be for something less . . . harsh. Seems like there should be something halfway between a fairy tale character and a murderer.

“Okay, to the right, you see that little platform? You can land it there and deploy the hooks.” This little drone comes with equipment to hook it onto things like this pole, to keep it from being blown down by the wind.

I get the drone on the platform, using a maneuver that proves to be a little tricky in the tiny space available. I’m looking for the button to get the hooks in place, when Toni’s voice comes over the line.

“Uh-oh.”

“What’s ‘uh-oh’?” I ask out into the van. I can’t turn and respond to her because I’m focusing on using both hands for the drone.

“Potential bad guy, twelve o’clock. Be cool.”

I press the button to hook the drone to the pole and then sit back, hiding behind the front seat, not that I need to for security purposes, because the curtain is drawn. What is she talking about?

Then I look at the computer screen, and the drone lets me see exactly what she means. A guy is walking down the sidewalk toward us, a pit bull on a leash straining in front of him. Did he come from the target house? I try to swallow, but it’s hard to do on account of the lump in my throat.

I can hear their voices through the back door of the van.

“Hey, what’s up?” the guy says.

“Nothin’ much. What’s up with you? Nice dog.”

“Thanks. Just out for a walk. What’re you doing here?” He gestures up at the pole. “Electric company?”

Our van has no markings on it that are permanent, but there’s a magnetic sign I was told is used by contractors who work for the phone company.

“Nah. Phones.” Toni gestures over at a junction box not far away. “Connecting some new lines. Economy’s picking up.”

“Good news.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m outta here. Have a good one.” She waves as she goes around the side of the van and gets inside.

“Just stay put,” she says in a low voice.

I watch on the screen as we pull away. The man turns to watch us drive away and down the street.

“I think he made us,” she says.

I watch as he turns back around and continues away from the target house.

“I don’t think so. He’s still walking his dog, and he’s not looking at the drone.”

Toni lets out a long breath. “Thank Jesus.”

My heart fills with pride. “We did it.”

“Yes, we did.”

Both of us are on cloud nine, all the way back to the warehouse. When we arrive, Thibault is waiting with his hands on his hips.

“Well?” he asks before the engine’s even off.

Toni and I get out of the van, and she walks over to give him a high five. “Done deal, thanks to Bo Peep over there.”

I approach, feeling shy about taking all the credit. “I didn’t do anything, really. Toni got the camera in place for the entire back side of the house.”

“And she flew the drone up to the pole and secured it,” Toni adds.

“She did?” Thibault looks at me with a questioning expression. “How come you did it?”

“I, uh . . .” I look over at Toni. She’s staring at the ground. “I wanted to try it out. I like radio-controlled cars, so I figured the drone would be fun.”

“What happened to your leg?” he asks, gesturing to the spot of blood above my knee.

I look down. “Huh. I don’t know?” Even I don’t believe me. I obviously need to practice my lying skills.

Thibault smiles. “You didn’t have a run-in with a drone by any chance, did you?”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Thibault—again?!” Toni storms off, yelling loud enough for anyone in the Port to hear. “One time, okay? One time I hit you!”

I can’t not laugh when he lifts up his leg and shows me a small scar on his calf. “She nailed me. She’s a fucking maniac with that thing.”

I lift up my pant leg too, revealing a small cut on my thigh. “Tell me about it.”

Thibault tips his head back and roars with laughter.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

What’s so funny?” Ozzie asks, coming out of the shadows near the weight equipment. He’s sweating. Oh my. Sahara is walking behind him, and she looks as wiped out as I feel. Has he been making her work out too? I wouldn’t be surprised.

“Toni tried to take her out with the drone.” Thibault points at my leg as I let the pants drop into place.

“Again?” Ozzie shakes his head. “Man, she’s dangerous.”

“Bo Peep got the drone up, though. Girl’s got skills, can’t deny.”

Ozzie gives me an assessing look that has my face going pink. “Let me take a look at that cut before you go upstairs,” he says.

“Oh, it’s no big deal, really. She barely tapped me.”

“Regardless . . . go on over to the table there. I’ll join you in a minute.”

I limp over to the chair, not because of my drone accident, but because now that all the adrenaline is fading from my system, I’m feeling my aching muscles again. Holy shit, when is my body going to be back to normal?

Sahara and Thibault climb the stairs together and disappear into the samurai room. I take advantage of the alone time to give my arms and legs a massage while I wait for Ozzie to come over and assess my wound or whatever he’s going to do.

I’m trying to keep my brain from imagining that his concern for my body is above and beyond that of a boss to an employee, but I lose that battle when he comes back downstairs, sits down next to me, and slowly rolls my pant leg up, putting his warm hand under my calf and lifting my leg to rest on his thigh.

“Does it hurt?”

He’s concerned, that much is evident in the seriousness of his expression, not to mention his tone. He touches the skin around the wound very softly. I really wish he’d quit messing around and put those big hands of his on my chest instead.

Oh my god, did I just think that?!

“Not as much as the rest of me,” I say jokingly, trying to act with a casualness I do not feel.

He looks up at me, confused. It’s the first time I notice the flecks of amber in his green eyes. I try not to stare like a crazy person, but they’re beautiful.

“I’m still sore from our workout.”

“Ah. Sorry about that.” He unscrews some disinfectant and puts some on a cotton ball. “Maybe I overdid it a little.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to do anything special for me. Just treat me like everyone else.”

He dabs at the cut on my leg with the cotton. “You know that’s not going to be possible, right?”

He’s not looking at me, but does that stop my blood pressure from shooting up into the stars? No, of course not. My whole body goes hot with just that one sentence.

I probably shouldn’t assume he means anything special by it, though. I’m sure he’s saying I’m weaker than any of his other recruits, so I’m going to need a special, more relaxed program for getting in shape.

“Why can’t you treat me the same?” I ask. “I promise, I’ll work as hard as I need to in order to make the team.” After today I’m sure I want to be here. I want to be part of the Bourbon Street Boys family. This is the most fun I’ve had at work ever. Plus there’s Ozzie. Getting to see him at work is like getting a Christmas bonus every day.

“I have no doubt you will. You’ve already given a hundred and ten percent. I can’t ask for any more than that.”

“So what’s the problem then?” I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

He stares at my leg, running a hand from my ankle to my knee as he leans down to examine the cut more closely.