Page 7 of In the Nick of Time
“Oh,” Nick said, thinking he understood. “Like my dad when he became a Buddhist after being an asshole his whole life? Like, you think you’re getting a pass for your past actions.”
Swanson didn’t react; he just stared at Nick, his expression blank. Nick suspected that, underneath all of that not-reacting, a nerve had been hit.
“Anyway”—he drew the word out—“am I hired? Not fired?”
Swanson shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before opening them to stare at Nick again. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he muttered. To Nick, he said, “No, you are obviously not fired. Downstairs let you in, didn’t they? Told you where to go? And it wasn’t home, was it? Although I might have suggested it myself if it had been me.”
He swiveled to face his computer monitor, seemingly fascinated by what he saw there.
“Right, no. I mean, yes, um, whoever was down there did tell me to take the elevator up here. Here I am, I guess. So.” Nick craned his neck, wondering what Agent Swanson was looking at on his desktop. “Do I have paperwork to fill out? Orientation? That sort of thing?”
Swanson made a sound that was a cross between a scoff and the clearing of a throat.
“I am your orientation,” he said.
“Great, great. Um, I left my tortoise in my car. And I forgot my lunch. But the tortoise is more important.”
Nick was genuinely worried about the tortoise. He was pretty sure a little while would be okay, but too much longer and the temperature might get too hot inside his car. But, he reminded himself, it wouldn’t get as hot as the Sahara, would it? It couldn’t.
Agent Swanson turned toward him again, very slowly, as if taking his time gave him more time to process what Nick had just told him.
“You brought a turtle to work with you? On your first day?”
“No! I found it. On the street outside.” Nick gestured toward the window and the parking lot below.
“You found a turtle on the street outside and you…?”
“I put it in my car. Do you have processing issues due to your advanced age?” Maybe Swanson had memory issues. Nickhad told him he’d put the turtle in his car just seconds earlier. Memory problems would explain retiring so early.
But maybe Doug Not-Long-Shot-Anymore Swanson needed a little lesson in Nick.
Swanson stared at him so Nick stared back. Why not? It seemed like as good a chance as any to really ogle the guy.
Possible memory issues aside, he was even hotter than Nick had first thought. Deep blue eyes like that guy his aunt loved to watch in old movies. He’d been dead awhile, so he was old too. Actually, dead meant he wasn’t any older, didn’t it?
“Do you take medication?” the older agent finally asked.
Nick was debating whether to answer that it was none of Doug’s business. He thought it was a HIPAA violation anyway. Did SPAM follow HIPAA? They had to, right?
Had he remembered to take his Adderall? Crap. The way his mind was spinning, probably not. He’d been in a state getting ready to leave the house.
A notification chimed from the computer, interrupting his Casey Jones train of thought. Swanson leaned forward and squinted at the email before glancing around, then opening the top drawer of the desk and slipping on a pair of reading glasses.
Holy moly. Nick shifted in his seat. How could the man be even hotter? This should be illegal. Luckily, Swanson was a jerk so Nick wouldn’t make the mistake of falling for him.
“Fuck. Dammit, April, why am I the one sent in for cleanup duty? And with a newbie in tow too,” Swanson muttered at the screen.
He stood up, indicating that Nick needed to do so as well.
“We have a job to do. I hope you’re ready for your first day.”
“Not really, no. It would be nice to know exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. I sure didn’t sign up for cleanup duty, either.”
Striding away, Swanson responded with, “Hurry up. The quicker we get started, the quicker it’s over with.”
“But, what exactly isit?” Nick demanded. “And can I use the restroom before we go?”
Unsurprisingly, Swanson didn’t answer Nick’s question. He just continued to move very manfully—with that slight limp, which shouldn’t have been sexy at all— toward the elevator. Sighing, Nick shook his head and followed the older agent. He didn’t have a choice, did he?
