by Becky Harmon
Flagler Security agent Jamison Krews would never break a promise. So when Mel Carter, her long-time friend and training officer, asks her to protect her sister Shea, Jamison will honor that request. No matter the cost.
At twenty-six years old, Shea Carter is older than her teammates and has more important things to focus on than the supposed threat to her life. Leading the Tallahassee Tigers to the National Championship will take all of her energy and attention.
As quarterback of the team, Shea has drawn a lot of unwanted attention, and not everyone wants her and the Tigers to succeed. Will Jamison be able to convince Shea that she’s more than a babysitter and gain her trust—and her heart—before it’s too late?
Jamison Krews rolled over and grabbed her buzzing cell phone from the nightstand.
“Krews,” she mumbled into the phone.
“James,” a familiar voice spoke urgently in her ear. “I need your help.”
Jamison sat up pushing the comforter away from her body. Her head was fuzzy from sleep but the urgency in the voice quickly cleared the cobwebs.
“Mel? What’s wrong?”
Mel Carter was one of the few people in her life she would call a friend. She had often told her and she had meant it, whatever…whenever…she needed anything, she would be there for her. Apprehension flooded her as she realized Mel was about to call in that promise.
“It’s my sister. I think she’s in danger. I need you to take care of her until I can get there.”
“Okay. Fill me in.” Jamison punched the speaker button and laid the phone on her dresser. Grabbing black pants and a button-down shirt from the closet she pulled them on over the boxers and tank top she’d slept in.
“The Tigers received threats naming Shea personally and Mom is freaking out. Shea isn’t taking the threats seriously so she contacted Vince. He promised to send someone to stay with her. I wish it could be me but I’m in Afghanistan and I can’t walk away from this mission yet.” She sighed. “Maybe by the end of the week.”
Jamison wet her hands and ran them through her shoulder-length hair pushing it back out of her eyes. Vince Flagler, founder of Flagler Security and Mel and Jamison’s boss, was a master at threat analysis. If he agreed, then there was something to be concerned about. She had met Shea Carter one time about eight years ago. She had just led her high school football team through the playoffs and they were headed for the state finals. At eighteen, she was cocky and arrogant, with the same intensely dark eyes that seemed to run in Mel’s family.
Mel’s eyes had captured Jamison on her first day of work at Flagler Security. As her training officer, Mel had taken to Jamison and taught her everything she could. Which meant a lot, she had later learned. Mel hated being a training officer and preferred to work alone. She had refused every training assignment until Jamison. She was honored that Mel would turn to her to protect her sister but she also knew protecting someone who didn’t want to be protected wouldn’t be easy.
“What about Nikki?” Jamison had run into Mel and her latest fling, Nikki Mitchell, last month at the Flagler office in Pensacola and she wondered if Mel had already dumped her.
“She’s with me.” Mel sighed again. “Please, James. I know what I’m asking. Shea will be difficult. She’s headstrong and can be a real ass sometimes.” She paused. “But she’s my baby sister and I love her. I need someone who can stand up to her and keep her safe despite her protests.”
“You know I’ll do it, Mel. Are the Tigers back in Tallahassee yet? I know they played Boston yesterday.”
“You mean stomped Boston. Yes, they got in last night.”
“I’ll head over there now. I’ll call you when I get a handle on what’s going on.”
“Thank you so much.” Jamison could hear the relief in Mel’s voice. “If I don’t answer leave a message and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
* * *
Jamison pulled her Ford Explorer into the parking lot outside the Tallahassee Tigers football stadium. Tallahassee University had opened in the late eighteen hundreds with fifty students and today it enrolled approximately forty thousand. The main campus stretched over a thousand acres with additional buildings placed throughout town. Last year, it had been listed in the top fifty public universities nationwide.
She maneuvered the small pickup into a spot by gate B, staring up at the marquee that announced the Tigers latest win. They were undefeated. One more regular season game and they would head to the conference championship. Jamison followed the Tigers as avidly as anyone who lived in this town. It was hard not to since pretty much everyone was a diehard fan especially now that they were winning. The Tigers hadn’t won a championship in almost thirty years and they had never had an undefeated season. Or a female quarterback.
Jamison remembered Mel telling her how hard it had been for Shea once she graduated from high school. She was the star quarterback and had she been male she probably would have been drafted straight into the National Football League. As a female, no one wanted her. There had been one or two offers from small colleges willing to sign her if she switched to special teams but Shea wouldn’t buckle under the pressure.
Her path to the Tigers had been widely publicized by all the sports media outlets. She maintained her skills by practicing and helping to coach a women’s semi-pro tackle football team. After several years, she enrolled in a community college that agreed to let her practice with the team. At the end of her first year, they put her on the roster and allowed her to dress for games, but still wouldn’t let her play. When their starting quarterback was injured, Shea stepped in to lead them to multiple wins. They begged her to stay but Shea chose to attempt a walk-on with the Tigers. They too had resisted but her diligence had finally paid off in her senior year and the Tigers were reaping the benefits.
Jamison ran a hand through her hair as she slid from the truck and headed for the administration offices. Her boots echoed on the cement floors as she maneuvered the maze of hallways behind the stadium. Approaching Coach Sutton’s door, she could hear raised voices. She lifted her hand to knock but froze when a female voice caught her attention.
“I don’t care what my sister said. I do not want or need a babysitter!”
“Shea, be reasonable. It’s for your own safety,” a male voice countered.
“Reasonable! I’ll give you reasonable.”
“Stop it now, Carter,” another male voice interrupted Shea’s rant. “This conversation is over. A protection detail is being sent by Flagler and you will cooperate with them or you won’t play this weekend. Understood?”
Jamison thought the last word had definitely been forced out between gritted teeth but she didn’t have time to think about it as the door was flung open and she was pushed backward from the impact. She placed her hands on Shea’s waist and pushed her away as she widened her stance to keep from falling into the wall. Dark eyes raked over her body before coming to rest on her face. A seductive smile spread across Shea’s face. Then she turned and walked away. Jamison watched her lengthen her stride with each step as she rounded the corner out of sight.
She took a deep breath, tapped lightly on the doorframe and stepped into the office. “Jamison Krews. I was sent by Flagler Security.”
The man behind the desk nodded. “Ronald Sutton.” Jamison recognized the coach of the Tallahassee Tigers from many televised football games.
She turned to the other man who wore a campus security uniform. “Carlton Hammer.” His grip was strong but he released quickly and she smiled as she realized who he was.
His smile widened as she referenced his nickname when he was the star running back for the Tallahassee Tigers.
“I don’t hear that much anymore.”
She nodded. “Well, it certainly fits.” He wasn’t much taller than her five foot eight but his muscular width made up for his lack of height. His biceps and thighs bulged through the polyester uniform and he seemed to have lost no muscle in the twenty years since he played ball.
Sutton motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” He looked at Carlton. “Can you make her a copy of the file?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Carlton departed quickly.
Sutton removed the Tigers ball cap and rubbed his bald head. “She’s not happy with this arrangement.”
“So I heard.”
“Yeah, Carlton thought if he broke it to her gently she might take it better.” He chuckled. “Not likely.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Her cooperation would be nice but it’s not necessary.”
He nodded. “I guess you want to hear the details, right?” He continued, “It began after our second game. There was a note waiting in the locker room. The police have the original but Carlton kept a copy. The letters were cut out of magazines and pasted into a creepy message. Basically it said stop winning or else. We filed a police report but no one really took it seriously. I mean, come on.” He shrugged and rubbed his face. “After each win there was a new note. The police tried to stake out the stadium and when that didn’t work they tried blocking the entrances to keep anyone from coming inside. We couldn’t use cameras because, well, it was a locker room. Somehow the notes continued to arrive. Like I said no one was really taking it serious.”
“But something changed?”
“Yeah, after our sixth win there wasn’t a note. Or at least none we could find. We thought he’d given up. Our seventh game was at home but it was being nationally televised so we put the team up in a hotel the night before. The brakes went out on the bus driving them back to the stadium the next day. Luckily the driver was able to wedge the bus in a narrow alley before it crashed into something or someone. We won that game and the next day the note was back and even more disturbing. The investigation found the brakes had been tampered with. That’s when the police started taking the threats more seriously.”
“When did it become focused on Ms. Carter?”
“After the last game,” Carlton said, returning with a thick manila folder, which he passed to Jamison. “She uses the women’s shower room down the hall before and after games. Normally, I have an officer patrolling the hallway so she doesn’t get harassed by the media but we had a fight in the student section. I had to pull everyone to get it cleared up before the cameras caught it.” Carlton shook his head in disgust. “They’ll film anything and it just makes the school look bad.”
Sutton took over again. “I didn’t notice she wasn’t in the locker room for the pre-game meeting but when we took the field no one could find her. I sent one of the coaches to look for her but the door was locked and she didn’t answer his knocks.”
“Coach called me and I unlocked the door,” Carlton said. “Poor thing was locked inside the equipment closet in the back of the locker room. Screaming like crazy.”
Sutton laughed. “Yeah, that poor thing went on a rampage against Georgia Tech. I’ve never seen her so pissed.”
Jamison smiled remembering the fiery look in Shea’s eyes when they had collided earlier. She watched the smile quickly fade from Sutton’s face, his features turning hard as he spoke.
“This morning’s note rambled about women being kept in their proper places and Shea would be the first to go. Last Saturday was only a sample to show us how easy it’ll be to take her out.”
Jamison understood his frustration, and she was itching to read the file for herself. It sounded like Shea was in real danger. “Is there anyone watching her right now?”
“Yes, the Tallahassee PD has an officer tailing her from a distance. She’s been told to stay in her townhouse when she is not in class or at practice. Though I doubt she’s listening.”
Jamison nodded. “I need to run a few errands and then I’ll relieve the officer.” She tapped the folder and looked at Carlton. “Once I review this, I’ll let you know if I need additional information.”
He nodded. “Anything I can do to help. I wrote my cell number on the inside cover or call me at the office.”
She stood and shook Sutton’s hand. “Focus on football, Coach.” She winked at Carlton. “We got this.”
Jamison showered and dressed in blue jeans and a silk jersey T-shirt, pulling on her dark blue blazer to cover her shoulder holster. She packed enough clothes to get her through the week. Then she drove through the hanging moss-covered streets to Shea’s townhouse. Three blocks from the main campus, Shea’s street was a mix of residential and small offices. She parked behind the TPD patrol car and walked around to his window. She showed him her identification and told him he was cleared to go. He was eager to return to regular duty and assured Jamison that Shea was inside the townhouse.
She walked around the house getting familiar with her surroundings. There was a backdoor but it went into the privacy-fenced backyard and the only gate outside the fence was adjacent to the front door. It seemed unlikely Shea would climb the privacy fence but Jamison wasn’t going to assume she wouldn’t.
She returned to her truck and stared at the two-story white duplex. She made a mental note to find out who lived in the other half of the building. The window curtain on the second floor opened and Jamison could see a figure inside watching her. She pulled the manila folder from the truck and crossed to the red-trimmed door. Before she could knock the door was flung open and she stared into the fiery dark eyes of Shea Carter.
“Nice to see you again,” Shea said sarcastically. “I guess you’re my babysitter.”
Jamison slid past her into the townhouse, tossed her folder on the dining room table and turned to face Shea. “I’m Jamison Krews and I’m here at your sister’s request.”
Shea frowned. “Didn’t we meet a couple years ago?”
Jamison nodded. “You’d just won the playoffs.”
“Oh yes. I remember. My sister’s fling of the moment.”
Jamison rolled her eyes. “I’m not here to talk about your sister’s love life. I’m here because your sister asked me to come and because your life has been threatened.”
“It was a prank. Probably a rival team trying to mess with us,” Shea said, flopping onto the couch and switching on the television. “Everyone is just overreacting.”
Jamison leaned against the table and studied her profile. Shea’s short dark hair was curly and cut above her ears. Jamison couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting up the long legs to where the bottom of the blue gym shorts hugged her thighs. Then she caught herself. This was not going the way she had planned it. Time for her to take control of the situation. She grabbed the remote from where it lay on Shea’s stomach and switched off the television. Crossing her arms over her chest she faced Shea.
“Here’s how things are going to work. You’re not going to leave this house without telling me where you’re going. I’ll be with you twenty-four hours a day. I’ll do my best to stay out of your business. Your sister hopes to be here by the end of the week and then I’ll disappear.” She tossed the remote back onto Shea’s stomach and took a seat at the dining room table. Opening the file, she began reading the police reports.
After a few minutes, the ominously silent Shea got up and disappeared up the stairs. Jamison truly hoped she didn’t try to climb out a window but she listened closely just in case.
* * *
What a load of shit! Shea pulled her running shoes from her closet and slammed the door shut. Punching Mel’s number on her cell phone she waited for voice mail to pick up and left a scathing message with as many curse words as she could think to include. She would make her sister pay for this. Dialing her mother with one hand, she pulled on her running shoes.
“Mom, I’m going to kill Mel. This is such bullshit.”
“Shea Elizabeth, you will not talk to me like that. I don’t care how upset you are.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Shea stopped pacing and dropped onto the bed. “I can’t believe Mel called the cavalry. How can I focus on football when I have someone invading my space? You know I need to be alone when I’m preparing. This weekend’s game is really important. I can’t afford to be distracted.”
“Are you finished, Shea?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“I’m the one that called Mr. Flagler so don’t blame your sister. We’re all worried and want you to be safe. Just focus on football and let Flagler deal with your safety. I’m sure whoever they sent will be professional and not invade your space.”
“She’s already invading my space. And she’s ordering me around like I’m a child.”
“Well, you should do what she says, honey. I’m coming down for the game this weekend so we can talk about it then if you’re still unhappy.”
“Fine. But I’m going to the gym to work out now and she better not have a problem with it.”
Shea heard her mother sigh and she grimaced. Even to herself she sounded like a four-year-old throwing a tantrum.
“Please be cooperative, Shea. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you, baby.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Shea slid the phone into the pocket of her shorts. She ignored Jamison as she passed and had her hand on the front door before Jamison spoke.
“Where are you going?”
Jamison stood, pulling keys from her pocket. “Fine. We’ll take my truck.”
She didn’t respond or wait to see if Jamison would follow. “Figures you drive a truck,” she mumbled under her breath.
* * *
Jamison unlocked the doors and climbed behind the wheel. She watched Shea out of the corner of her eye as she drove. Shea gave one word directions making it clear she didn’t intend to have a conversation but Jamison attempted to engage her anyway.
“Aren’t you too sore from the game to work out today?”
Shea shook her head.
“Is this a scheduled team event?”
Shea shook her head again.
“I’ll accompany you inside but I’ll try to avoid drawing attention.”
Shea shrugged as she turned to look at her. “That’ll be hard with you dressed like that.”
Jamison frowned. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”
“You look like a professor.”
She cringed at Shea’s words. Too late to change now.
“Can you at least take off the blazer?” Shea asked.
“Unfortunately, no.” She wouldn’t even consider not carrying her pistol and there was no need to discuss it with Shea.
“Fine. Don’t talk to me then.” Shea pointed to a set of double doors. “Let me off there.”
“No.” Jamison backed into a nearby parking space. “I’ll agree to keep my distance but only if you don’t try to lose me.”
“Whatever.” Shea jumped from the truck as soon as it stopped moving.
Jamison cut the engine and followed her. She watched Shea’s calf muscles flex as she trotted up the stairs. Shea had to be over six feet tall and she didn’t slouch at all like tall women often did. She walked with her shoulders back and Jamison admired her confidence.
Shea pulled open a metal-framed glass door and Jamison could hear the clanking of weight machines. She paused for a moment giving Shea time to make her appearance before she pulled open the door and followed her inside. The room was large and split into three sections. The first section held only cardio machines, treadmills, bicycles, steppers and a few rowing machines. The second section was filled with free weights and weight lifting machines. The third section was empty but the floor was covered with mats for stretching and floor exercises. Ten or so college-aged men worked out on the free weights and Jamison glanced at each one. They all seemed intent on their workouts and not at all focused on each other or on Shea. Jamison saw Coach Sutton and another man, tall and lanky, inside the glass office in the rear of the room and she headed toward them after locating Shea on a treadmill.
“Hey Coach,” Jamison said, sticking her head in the door of the office.
“How’s things going?” He stood, shook her hand and then introduced her to the other man. “Ben is one of my assistant coaches. Jamison is Carter’s new bodyguard.”
Ben smiled and shook her hand. “Not a soul jealous of that job.”
Jamison smiled as she moved to where she could watch Shea and continue the conversation. “We’re getting along fine so far. I’ve agreed to keep my distance and she’s agreed to not try to sneak away from me.” Jamison rolled her eyes. “I think.”
Both men laughed. Sutton handed her a security access badge. “Carlton and I were thinking you might need that to get around.” He smiled. “In case she accidentally loses you.”
Jamison nodded. “Thanks. I’m sure it will come in handy.” She stepped toward the door. “I’ll see you gentlemen later.”
“Feel free to use the workout equipment whenever you’re in here,” Sutton called to her. “Also, practice is every afternoon from two to six.” He smiled again. “In case she doesn’t tell you.”
She grinned. “Thanks for the information.”
She located an unused bench in the corner of the room and crossed to it. Turning the red plastic bench so she could see the entire room, she straddled it and pulled her phone from her pocket. She logged into her email and checked her new messages. After returning a few emails, she opened an Internet browser and typed in Shea Carter’s name.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shea move from the treadmill to a rowing machine. She had pulled off her T-shirt and wore only a black sports bra with her gym shorts. Jamison’s eyes were drawn to Shea’s chest as her arms worked back and forth. Her breasts were small and firm against the muscles in her chest. Jamison could see the outline of her nipples clearly through the thin material as it stretched across her chest with each stroke.
Wishing she had brought a bottle of water, Jamison licked her dry lips, pulling her gaze up Shea’s body to her face. She was taken aback to see the dark eyes staring back at her. Jamison tried to casually look away but knew she had been caught. If she wanted to gain Shea’s trust, she would need to be more professional and avoid ogling her body. Even if she was beautiful. She did her best not to stare directly at Shea and instead browsed the Internet following every link Shea’s name had brought up.
Finally, after several hours, Shea appeared to be winding down. She flopped onto one of the stretching mats with her back to Jamison. A slender blonde in khaki pants and a Tallahassee Tigers shirt joined her. Jamison watched the woman help Shea slowly work through multiple stretches covering every muscle in her body. Their voices were soft as they chatted and Jamison pushed aside a ridiculous twinge of jealousy at their familiarity. When they finished, Shea headed for the exit. Jamison stood and followed her. The other woman smiled as she passed but didn’t offer a greeting.
* * *
Shea was exhausted but she still had several hours of studying to do before she crashed for the night. As she stood by Jamison’s truck watching her cross the parking lot, she thought about the look of admiration she had caught on Jamison’s face earlier. She was not ready to admit she found this woman intriguing. Attractive, yes, and maybe a little mysterious. She was also bossy and annoying but mostly she brought out the whiner in her and she despised that. She was not a child anymore and stomping her feet in a tantrum would not accomplish anything or gain her any respect. Her breath caught as the early evening sun reflected off something metallic inside Jamison’s blazer. A gun. No wonder she wouldn’t take off her blazer. Shea was struck by the implied seriousness of her situation. Maybe she should be more careful.
* * *
Closing the folder, Jamison sat back in her chair pushing her hands through her hair. At this point the police had no suspects and no leads on the threat to Shea. Her job wasn’t to solve this case but the sooner she figured things out the sooner she could go home. The house was quiet and every move Jamison made seemed to echo throughout the room. Shea had sequestered herself upstairs since their return about three hours earlier. She had mumbled something about studying but when Jamison looked into her face she saw exhaustion and she doubted any work was being accomplished. Her stomach growled and she looked at her watch. It was almost six and she hadn’t eaten all day.
She opened every cabinet in the small kitchen and stared at the lone jar of peanut butter. What in the world did this woman eat? She made a mental note to grab some groceries while Shea was in class tomorrow. Closing the cabinets, she began searching the drawers for take-out menus and quickly decided on Chinese over pizza. While she was deciding whether to interrupt Shea and see if she wanted anything, the doorbell rang. Immediately, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Jamison pulled her pistol and cautiously stepped toward the front door. Holding the pistol beside her leg, she attempted to catch a glimpse of their visitor through the blinds. She heard Shea approach behind her.
“What the hell are you doing? It’s just the damn delivery boy.” She pushed past Jamison and swung open the door.
Jamison quickly stepped between Shea and the deliveryman, taking in the pizza box in his arms and the pimples on his face. Clearing the kid as a threat, she quickly scanned the street in front of the house before holding a hand out behind her. “Money?”
Shea slapped some bills into Jamison’s hand and leaned around her. “Hey Jimmy. Thanks for being so quick.”
“No…no problem,” Jimmy stuttered, his eyes on the pistol at Jamison’s side. “Uh…uh…everything okay, Ms. Shea?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Shea said, pushing Jamison to the side and grabbing the pizza box from Jimmy’s hands. “Keep the change,” she called as she turned and headed for the stairs with the box.
Jamison gave the driver a dismissive nod and closed the door, holstering her weapon. She shook her head. Clearly she and Shea were on their way to becoming the best of friends. She pulled out her phone and dialed the number for the Chinese restaurant.
She paced in front of the door until her food arrived, opening it before the driver could ring the bell. She took her food to the table and ate while she jotted notes on a legal pad. She wanted to meet with the TPD officer in charge of the investigation. She added Officer Cannon to her notepad along with the station phone number. She wanted to know if the hotel had any surveillance cameras that might have caught someone tampering with the bus brakes.
She was finishing her dinner when she heard footsteps in the hallway above her. Shea was moving in the opposite direction of the stairs, either getting ready for bed or making an escape. When she heard her return to the bedroom and close the door, she retrieved the bag from the truck that she had packed. Exploring the downstairs, she discovered a bedroom next to the bathroom. The bed was made but there were no clothes in the dresser or closet. Jamison took that as a good sign that she wasn’t stealing a roommate’s bed or that she’d have an unwelcome visitor in the night.
Jamison lay wrapped in a quilted blanket she had found beside the couch. It was warm and it smelled like lavender. She squeezed her eyes shut hoping to block out the visions of Shea that were playing through her mind. She could almost feel Shea’s lean muscular body beneath her fingers. She pulled her fingers into a fist and then released them, rubbing her face. Fantasizing about Shea in her black sports bra would not help her focus on her job.
Instead she remembered Shea’s hostile attitude the previous night. Jamison knew she needed to take a more professional approach. Shea’s beauty was certainly irrelevant to her assignment. She could hear Mel’s voice in her head chastising her for her behavior and she smiled. Good thing Mel didn’t know where her thoughts had been. She was thinking about a shower when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She waited as they entered the kitchen and then she heard the front door slam.
“No fucking way!” Jamison jumped to her feet and slid into her running shoes, thankful for the shorts and T-shirt she had decided to sleep in. She quickly pulled a Windbreaker from the back of the door and pushed her pistol in the pocket. Charging out the front door, she caught sight of Shea turning the corner with her blue backpack slung over one shoulder. Jamison cursed under her breath as she hurried to make the corner before Shea could disappear.
* * *
Shea glanced over her shoulder as she rounded the corner toward campus. Jamison came running behind her, wearing shorts and running shoes. Her hair was disheveled and Shea tried not to think about how cute she looked. She would definitely blend in with the college students this morning. Shea had thought about knocking on Jamison’s door when she came down the stairs but she was only going to class. She had planned to check in with Jamison before her noon class, but now she wouldn’t need to do that. She would have time to grab lunch at the sub shop instead.
Shea waved to two classmates standing outside the door of her classroom and detoured past them. Ducking into the alcove in the stairway, she fed quarters into the coffee machine. It wasn’t gourmet but better than nothing. Her last roommate had a coffeemaker and it was nice to have that each morning but she’d moved out over a month ago and taken her appliances with her. Shea had considered buying one for herself but knew she would drink more if she had it. Caffeine wasn’t the best beverage for her and guilt pushed her to feed dollars into the next machine, punching the button for a bottled water. She dropped the water into her pack and took a sip of the coffee.
Her friends had already taken seats inside the classroom and she slid into a chair beside them as the professor walked into the room. Outside the door, she saw Jamison stroll by giving her a hard stare and she smiled until she saw the annoyed look on her face. She hadn’t meant to make Jamison angry and unfortunately there was nothing she could do about it now. She would think about apologizing later. It was against her nature to give in too easily.
She wondered if Jamison would be waiting when her class was over. She had to admit that she hoped so. Jamison was attractive and under different circumstances she would have actively pursued her. Jamison’s short brown hair had a shaggy appearance and she liked the way Jamison ran her fingers through it when she pushed it out of her face. She had looked comfortable jogging to catch her this morning and she imagined her legs would be lean and toned. Mel took care of her body and exercised regularly so she had to believe most Flagler agents were the same. She looked forward to testing Jamison’s endurance on a run tomorrow. She turned her attention to the professor.
* * *