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Receptionist Under Cover
C.J. Carmichael
One missing person. One handsome adventurer.And one big case of mistaken identity: the detective's. Because Nadine Kimble isn't actually a private investigator–she's a receptionist. To prove herself, she's determined to solve her first case without everyone else at the Fox & Fisher Detective Agency or the distracting Patrick O'Neil–her client–finding out.Easier said than done, especially when it's clear she's going to have to traipse across the continent following clues. That's going to involve a lot of lying to her coworkers…and to Patrick, a man she's fast developing very unprofessional feelings for. But once she solves the case, she can come clean and finally act on those feelings. Well, if she solves the case…
Patrick wasn’t convinced he’d come to the right person
Nadine could see that, looking into his eyes.
Keeping her gaze direct and confident, she said, “Like I said earlier, finding missing persons is a specialty of our firm. As it happens, I’m between cases right now and I could start on this immediately.”
Okay, technically that was a lie, but Nadine told herself it wouldn’t matter, not as long as she found Patrick’s son for him. Which she was determined to do.
Patrick’s eyes held hers a moment longer, then he nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it. What’s the first step?”
She struggled to keep her excitement contained. “We sign a standard contract and you pay a retainer.” She mentioned the base amount. When Patrick indicated his agreement, she asked him to wait while she drew up the papers.
“Too bad your receptionist isn’t here to do that,” Patrick commented.
Dear Reader,
When I started THE FOX & FISHER DETECTIVE AGENCY series, I knew that Nadine Kimble was destined to be more than a receptionist. She knew it, too. She’s waited patiently for the opportunity to advance her career, only to be put off time and again.
What I love most about Nadine is that she turns her back on money and social status in order to follow her dream. And she steps well out of her comfort zone to make that dream happen.
Speaking of stepping outside her comfort zone, have I mentioned Patrick O’Neil? He’s the kind of rugged hero you don’t want to mess around with. So what’s he going to say when he finds out the private investigator he hired to find his son is really the firm’s receptionist?
I love hearing from readers, so send me an e-mail sometime. Also, do check my Web site, www.cjcarmichael.com, regularly for news about my next trilogy and to enter my “Surprise!” contests.
Happy reading!
C.J. Carmichael
Receptionist Under Cover
C.J. Carmichael
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, C.J. Carmichael gave up the thrills of income tax forms and double-entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written more than twenty-eight novels for Harlequin Books, and invites you to learn more about her books, see photos of her hiking exploits and enter her surprise contests at www.cjcarmichael.com.
With love to Mike Fitzpatrick…who never
turns his back on a good adventure
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER ONE
NADINE KIMBLE WATCHED as the office printer spewed out a certificate proving she’d aced the online private investigation course she’d been taking the past six months. She knew her boss—Lindsay Fox, founder of The Fox & Fisher Detective Agency—was in her office. It was now or never, unless she wanted to be a receptionist for the rest of her life. Which she didn’t, since she was only twenty-seven and the rest of her life would hopefully involve many more decades.
With the certificate still warm in her hands, Nadine marched up to Lindsay’s office, rapped briefly on the door, then opened it.
Lindsay wasn’t alone. Her partner and fiancé, Nathan Fisher, was sitting in the chair usually reserved for clients, while she paced the room in bare feet, her high heels, as usual, strewn on the floor next to her desk. They were arguing in a civilized yet heated manner, and didn’t stop on Nadine’s account.
“Printed invitations are classier than e-mail, Fox. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I care about trees more than I care about ‘class.’ What do you think, Nadine? Should we send out stuffy printed invitations to our wedding—or speedier, cheaper and more environmentally friendly e-mail invitations?”
“We’re having such a small wedding, all we need is a dozen invitations. What’s that—a twig? Plus, we can use recycled paper.”
“Nadine?” Lindsay asked.
“Oh, no. I’m not falling for this again.” Nadine thought the printed invitations would be nice, but no way was she stating her opinion. Getting between Lindsay and Nathan in one of their “discussions” was never a good idea.
While Lindsay and Nathan loved each other passionately and made excellent business partners, they had opposite ideas about many subjects…especially their upcoming wedding.
And both of them sulked like kids if she took one side over the other.
“We’ve left this so late. The wedding is in two months.” Lindsay flipped the pages on her day-timer. “Do we even have time to get something printed?”
“The only reason we’re late is because you keep putting me off.” Nathan leaned forward in his chair, planting both hands on his well-muscled thighs. “I have a friend with a graphic-design shop two blocks from here on Amsterdam. She said if we come over right now, she can help us choose a design and have the invitations in the mail in three days.”
Lindsay made a face, then puffed out a sigh. “Fine. But the wedding cake will be chocolate. No fruitcake. No fancy white icing that tastes like plastic.”
“What about carrot cake with thick cream-cheese icing?”
Lindsay’s mouth tightened obstinately. “Chocolate.”
Nathan looked as if he was going to argue some more. Then he changed his mind and nodded. “Printed invitations and chocolate wedding cake.”
Lindsay reached for her shoes. “All right, then. I guess we better go talk to this friend of yours.”
Nadine realized her opportunity was about to be lost—again. “Um, before you go, I wanted to discuss something.”
“What’s up?” Lindsay asked as she slipped into her heels. She was a practical woman with a weakness for impractical shoes. One of several quirks to her character that kept her interesting.
Nadine showed Lindsay her latest certificate. “I want to start working on my own cases. I think I’m ready.”
The two partners exchanged a quick look, and Nadine, recognizing their skepticism, knew she had to speak fast. “I know you did me a favor, hiring me as a receptionist when I’d never held a job before.”
She’d had only her liberal arts education, and a lot of experience planning dinner parties and charity galas for her wealthy parents. Her father had always planned for her to work for the Waverly Foundation after graduation, but at the last moment Nadine had rebelled.
She had a dream. Her parents thought it was silly, reckless and potentially dangerous.
But Nadine still wanted to be a private detective.
“Despite my lack of experience, I think I’ve done a good job.”
“More like an excellent job,” Lindsay said. “But there’s a world of difference between working in an office and handling a case from start to finish.”
“You already do a lot of our research and record keeping,” Nathan added. “Plus you handle the calls from clients and keep track of us when we’re out in the field. We really couldn’t operate without you.”
Nadine heard what they were saying, but she wouldn’t be mollified. Not this time. “This is because I don’t have police training, isn’t it?”
Lindsay, Nathan and their third partner, Kate Cooper, had originally all worked at the Twentieth Precinct of the New York Police Department. “I’ve asked around. There are plenty of excellent P.I.’s in this city who didn’t start out with the force.”
“That’s true.” Lindsay ran her fingers through her delicately colored, blond hair. The blunt style ended at her jawline, emphasizing her determined chin. “I’m just not sure you’re ready.”
“But we’re drowning in work,” Nadine pointed out. “And Kate will be taking maternity leave soon.” She and her commercial pilot husband, Jay Savage, were expecting their first baby in four weeks.
“We’ve been gradually increasing your investigative responsibilities,” Nathan said.
“Yes. And I’m glad for everything you’ve thrown my way.” She knew how to do background checks now, and she was often asked to do research for the others. “But I’m always in the office. Always behind my desk.”
“But who would deal with the calls and the clients if you weren’t there?” Lindsay asked.
Nadine swallowed. She wasn’t quite brave enough to suggest that one of them could man the lines if she was out.
Nathan glanced at his watch. “We’ve got to get going. Let’s talk about this later when we have more time, okay?”
Same old story. Nadine sighed as they left. She had no illusions about what would happen later. More lip service to the notion of allowing her more responsibility. Then, in a couple of weeks, they would hire someone new, someone to cover for Kate, and Nadine’d be back to the same administrative jobs she always handled.
Nadine sank into her chair, frustrated. She loved working at Fox & Fisher. Lindsay, Nathan and Kate were friends, not just coworkers.
She didn’t want to leave.
But at the same time, she had a dream, and she was ready. She might not be a rabble-rouser like Lindsay, or steely minded like Kate, but she had talents, too.
Nadine went to the coffee station to rinse out the pot and start a fresh brew. Making coffee, answering phones, checking stuff on the Internet and writing up reports—yeah, she was great at that stuff. She wanted more, though. And she knew she could do it.
But no one here was going to believe it because they all thought of her as a receptionist. Worse than that, their opinions were colored by her background—her rich family and privileged upbringing.
She knew they all wondered why she bothered to work at a “real” job. But Nadine had never been comfortable with her family’s wealthy status. Far from giving her added confidence, the money had only made her less secure. She wanted to be valued as an individual, not as an heiress. That was why she used her mother’s maiden surname at work, and why she rarely spoke about her Waverly family connections.
She was determined to prove—to others and to herself—that she could handle the job. But how could she do that if they never let her try?
Nadine studied the calendar on her computer, where she kept track of everyone’s schedules. Knowing Nathan and Lindsay, it would take a while to find something they could agree on. Meanwhile, Kate had gone with Jay for her eight-month doctor checkup.
She would be alone in the office for a couple of hours.
Supposing, just supposing, a client should walk in the door during that time?
They didn’t get drop-in business very often, but it did happen. Usually, if the others were out, Nadine would book an appointment and ask the potential client to come back later.
But what if, this time, she didn’t?
Nadine put a hand to her chest. Her fingertips tingled with a rush of adrenaline, and her heart raced.
Dared she do it?
She had to. There was no other way. The next client who walked in the door was going to be hers.
PATRICK O’NEIL COULDN’T BE bothered with umbrellas. He just pulled his coat tighter against the cool November rain. Not to protect himself—he didn’t mind the damp and he wasn’t cold. Compared to Alaska, where he’d researched and written his last book, this weather was balmy. No, it wasn’t his body he was trying to protect, but the letters.
He’d been watching the addresses of the brownstones as he walked along, and now he stopped. The sign was discreet, but it seemed he had arrived.
