Trusting Jack (MC Securities Book 1) Read online

  Trusting Jack

  Ruby Moone

  Contents

  Trusting Jack

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  Christmas Titles from Ruby Moone

  Other Titles from Ruby Moone

  Chapter One

  There was something not quite right about the new guy. Michael Cross watched from a distance as his newest employee accepted a mug from Carla, the team manager, with a shy smile and then wrapped his hands around it. He looked younger than his twenty-five years. Slight, and seemingly on permanent alert, for he was as jumpy as hell. He’d calmed his jitters enough to deliver a halfway reasonable interview, and even though he’d known something was off, Michael had been unable to resist offering him the post of admin assistant. He was good at it. Quiet, intelligent and hardworking, he got his nose down and did whatever was asked of him quickly and, most importantly, accurately. It was clear to him that Jack Whelan was over-qualified to be an admin assistant, not that anyone would have guessed this from his sparse CV.

  He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about him as well as weirdly attracted. The attraction had snuck up on him in the eight weeks or so that Jack had been in the office. Michael worried it was becoming something of an obsession, because he had difficulty getting him out of his mind. Wondering about him. And, he was forced to admit in a moment of honesty, fantasising about him.

  He watched Jack hunch his shoulders as he took a sip of the scalding liquid. He drank tea. Black tea, no sugar. Dark spiky hair flopped over his pale forehead, and not in an artfully arranged way. He kept sweeping it back with long, slim, bony fingers. It needed cutting. He was thin. Gaunt even. He didn’t really talk much in the office, he just…got on with it. There was a quiet, undefinable hardness to him, though. A core of something determined that sat quietly beneath the surface, lurking in the depths of his smoky grey eyes, but it was contrasted by a shy, but quirky sense of humour which crept out every now and then.

  He sighed. He needed to stop speculating. He and his business partner, Christian, had a cast iron policy of no relationships with the staff, so it wasn’t like it was going anywhere. He didn’t even know if Jack was gay, although there was something about his gestures and the way he moved… He sighed. His gaydar was barely functional at the best of times.

  His landline rang, so he headed back to his office, resisting the temptation to take one last glance. Even if Jack was gay, it wasn’t like he’d be interested.

  It was lunchtime before he surfaced, and that was only because Carla knocked and walked in. He liked Carla. She ran the office with calm efficiency. It let him get on with the tech stuff he was good at. They had worked together a long time, so she understood him. Or so he thought. She brought with her a small, silver Christmas tree, complete with fibreoptic lights, and plonked it on the top of his filing cabinet.

  “Do you want some tinsel?” she asked as she fiddled with a switch on the base until it turned on. She stood back and admired the shifting rainbow coloured light.

  “No. That’s more than enough.” The whole office was now decorated and with barely a week to go before Christmas, Michael decided he could live with a bit of sparkle for that long.

  “Did you want me?” he asked when she hovered.

  “Yes.” She hesitated, closed the office door, and sat on the chair opposite his desk and took a breath. “You are going to have to do something about Jack.”

  He frowned, surprised, and closed the lid on his laptop and gave her his full attention. “Do something?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand. He seems to fit in really well.”

  Carla looked at her hands and then smiled up at him. “He does. He’s an absolute sweetheart. But.”

  Michael groaned. “But?” He couldn’t begin to imagine what she was talking about, but that but was ominous.

  “But, not to put too finer point on it…he smells.”

  Michael was fairly sure his jaw dropped. Of all the things she might have said… What the… “Smells…?” He grimaced. “What… what of?”

  “Mikey, he smells…” She shrugged awkwardly. “…unwashed. As though his clothes haven’t been properly washed in a long time, you know? That…stale sort of thing?” She sighed, shook her head and tapped her polished nails on his desk. “I’m really worried about him too. He wears the same clothes all the time. He never has any lunch, I’m sure he lives off the tea, coffee and biscuits the company give us, because that’s all I’ve ever seen him eat. And he’s so pale he’s nearly see-through. Haven’t you noticed how thin he is?”

  Michael leaned back in his chair and looked through the large plate window that gave him a view of the rest of the office. Jack sat diligently typing away, fingers flying over the keyboard, face a study in concentration, adding information onto the spreadsheet he was working. He was thin. Pale, too. He bit his lip as he worked, and Michael had to drag his gaze away.

  “I suppose he is a bit. If you’re not happy with him, talk to him.”

  “I can’t talk to him about that.” She raised her hands and gave him a long look. “That would have to come from you.”

  Alarm shot through Michael. “What? Why? Are you kidding me? What makes you think it should be me? You’re the office manager, you deal with it.”

  “Mikey, you don’t pay me enough.”

  Michael groaned. She had to be joking. Surely. “What the hell am I supposed to say? I can’t talk to him about something like that!”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  “I bloody won’t, I can barely communicate at the best of times.” It was true. He didn’t really ‘do’ people, he left that to the others in the team. It was a well-acknowledged fact. He did the tech work; the others did the talking. He sighed. “Can’t it wait until Christian gets back?” Christian would deal with it head on and charm everyone. It would be much better coming from Christian. Much better.

  Carla sighed and shrugged. “Christian isn’t back for at least a week, possibly longer. Mikey, just talk to him. You’ll see what I mean. I… I think he might need some help.”

  “Help?” This was getting worse by the minute. “What sort of help?”

  “Well, he never talks about home, or his family. He doesn’t seem to have friends…” Carla shook her head. “He’s as nervy as a cat.”

  “What’s his work like?” Michael rubbed his face with both hands, needing to change the subject.

  Carla thought for a moment, tapping a finger against her chin. “He’s good. Whatever I ask him to do, he does it.” She shrugged. “He’s a whizz with spreadsheets, database, and he can even spell and punctuate. He’s sharp. I think that with training he could really be an asset. He picks things up like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  That had been his assessment of the situation, so he was relieved he wasn’t completely off beam, distracted by this weird attraction thing he had going on. He was at least still reasonably observant and not blinded completely by lust. Perhaps he needed to go out at the weekend and get laid. He was trying to work out the last time he’d had sex and wondering why the prospect of it didn’t seem to excite him all that much, when she interrupted his meandering thoughts.

  “It’s not just me, the others have noticed it too.”

  Brilliant. Just brilliant. It was a small team. MC Security was
rapidly expanding, but in terms of staff in the office, it was small. Christian now worked largely on the road, and they had another agent who often worked remotely too. Carla kept them all in line, him included.

  “They’ve noticed how sharp he is, but they’ve noticed the other thing too. We don’t want to upset him.”

  Michael rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Okay. I’ll speak to him. But I’m not sure how you think I can do it without upsetting him any better than you could. He’ll probably sue me for harassment. Or leave.”

  Carla stood with a smile. The gold dangly earrings she wore caught the light from the sparkling tree. “Be gentle. I have every faith in you.”

  He rolled his eyes as she left the room.

  He decided to do a bit of digging before tackling his not-so-fragrant employee. At least it would stave off the moment when he needed to speak to him and it gave him legitimate excuse to probe further. Well, fairly legitimate. Decision to procrastinate taken, he looked up Jack’s address on the HR system. He lived between Longsight and West Gorton. The address that he had given made Michael frown. It was certainly one of the rougher areas of Manchester, not that there was anything wrong with that per se, but he was fairly sure that the area the address was in was pretty much derelict. He pulled up Google street view and sure enough, the whole area was a wreck. Probably waiting to be flattened for new housing. Odd.

  He checked his date of birth and confirmed that although he definitely looked younger, he was indeed twenty-five. A quick flick through his CV revealed a patchwork of jobs at places he’d never heard of, and a sparse education with qualifications in English and Maths and a college diploma in Art and Design, but little else. He should really pay more attention when he interviewed people. Staffing was usually Christian’s preserve, but he’d been off chasing a massive contract in London, so it had fallen to Michael. Even his references hadn’t come through yet and he’d been with the firm for at least eight weeks. He vaguely remembered Carla mentioning something a week or two back. Michael shook his head. He really did need to pay more attention when Christian wasn’t around.

  He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes before the staff would leave. He looked out at them. Carla, Jack, Lewis, and Maisie were working away quietly. Lewis was one of life’s good guys. About ten years older than his own thirty, Lewis had been instrumental in him and Christian setting up their own security agency. Massively experienced, shrewd as hell, but happy to stay in the background and deal with the more mundane things that came in through the door, leaving Michael and Christian to lead. They’d recently taken on a new agent, Finn, who was picking up a substantial caseload out in the field and proving to be an incredible asset. In all, they were busy. Carla managed the team and worked closely with Lewis. She was so sharp she scared him. He was pretty sure she scared Lewis too, and Maisie was an absolute whizz with marketing and social media stuff. Michael loved her bright blue hair and piercings. She seemed to have taken Jack under her wing.

  He looked out of the window at the pouring rain, shut the laptop, tapped his fingers on the top for a moment, and made a decision. He grabbed his jacket and turned out the light in his office as he left, and then walked through the main office towards the door leading to the lift.

  “I’m done. Carla, lock up, will you?”

  “No problem,’ she said, not looking up from her screen. Lewis glanced up and nodded. Jack cast him a cautious half smile and raised his hand awkwardly in acknowledgement. He thought back to what Carla had said about him not eating. Jack’s fingers were bony, so were his wrists. With one last glance at his too-sharp cheekbones, he headed out of the door.

  One of the benefits of living above the shop was that it was a ten second walk home. The lift door pinged softly, and he headed for his flat. The complex was a mix of business and residential which worked for him. Christian had grumbled something about not wanting to live where he worked and promptly bought a house out in the suburbs, but Michael liked the city. He unlocked his door and hurried into the bedroom. Throwing off his work clothes, he grabbed his black jeans, old soft leather boots, and pulled a black sweater out of the cupboard. He shrugged on his waterproof jacket and put his wallet and phone in the pocket. He glanced out of the window at the howling gale and hammering rain, and picked up a beanie, a scarf, and his soft, worn leather gloves. It was damned cold outside. He glanced at himself in the mirror. Most thirty-something men in scarves and beanies looked cool. He just looked… well, he wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t cool. He pushed away the thought and headed out. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Maybe he could offer him a lift, or follow him a bit, he wasn’t sure. Either way, his curiosity was off the scale now and although he wasn’t the best at fathoming people, he had learned long ago to pay attention to his gut feelings.

  Chapter Two

  The staff tumbled out of the main entrance of the office block as they finished for the day into the rainy darkness of the teatime rush. Carla’s umbrella blew inside out, and Lewis grabbed it before it took off. Maisie headed to the railway station at Piccadilly, which was moments away, leaving Jack heading out on foot. At first, Michael thought he might take the bus, but he set off at a pace in a direction that would take him to Longsight. Michael watched him for a moment or two, decided Jack was probably going to walk home, so headed quickly for his car. It would take him at least forty minutes to walk to where he claimed to live. He’d be drenched and frozen to the bone by the time he got there, so it looked like the perfect opportunity to casually offer a lift, find out where he actually lived and, sitting in close proximity for a while, might give him the chance to determine if he was as aromatic as Carla made out.

  He got the car and pulled off the offending beanie and slung it in the back. It only took five minutes to pick up Jack’s trail again. Michael spotted him striding out into the darkness, hunched against the cold wearing his customary thin, cheap waterproof with the hood pulled up over his head. He knew that under it he only wore a shirt and realised he must be freezing as well as wet through.

  He pulled up to the kerb beside him and pressed the button to wind down the passenger window.

  “Want a lift?” he called and tilted his head to peer up at Jack.

  He flinched, but then realised who it was. He slowed a little but didn’t stop walking. “I’m fine. Honest.” He gave him a little wave and a smile.

  He looked far from fine. Michael crawled alongside him, windscreen wipers batting away the rain. “It’s freezing, and you’re drenched. Get in before I get done for kerb crawling.”

  He looked like he was going to refuse again, so Michael reached over and opened the door. “Please?”

  He hesitated. “I’m wet.”

  “I know.”

  Jack muttered something under his breath and got into the car. He pulled the door shut and grabbed the seatbelt. Once he was buckled in, Michael set the indicator and eased back into the flow of the traffic, lights blurring in the rain-swept window.

  “Where to?” he asked, keeping his eye on the traffic.

  “I’m... well… Longsight, but that must be out of your way?”

  He glanced at Jack. He was staring out of the window, hands clasped on his legs. He was shivering. Michael wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold, or because he’d offered him a lift.

  “Longsight’s no problem. Whereabouts?”

  He hesitated a moment, and then gave him the address on his record. Michael turned to look at him, and even in the weak light in the car, he could see Jack was flushed.

  They drove in silence for a while, the radio playing, filling the car with soft Christmas tunes. “Got any plans for tonight?” Michael asked as he indicated to turn left and pulled the car around. It was the best conversational gambit he could think of. He really needed to get out more. It sounded like a damned chat-up line.

  “Not really.”

  “It’s close to Christmas. I thought you’d be out on the lash.” Even worse. Michael cringed inwardly. Lash. Di
d people still say lash?

  Jack shook his head. “Nah. Not really.” He plucked at the sleeve of his waterproof and pulled it away from his skin. It was probably wet inside.

  They drove in silence, and just before they arrived at Jack’s address, he sat up. “Here would be great.”

  Michael slowed the car. “Here?”

  “That’s great. Thank you.”

  He pulled the car to a stop. “This is where you live?”

  Jack hesitated. “Um, no, just…visiting a friend first. I live close by though.”

  “Well, don’t get too wet. See you tomorrow.” Michael’s attempt at cheeriness felt, and probably sounded, entirely false.

  Jack muttered a thank you and got out. He bent and waved once the door was closed. Michael waved back and then set off. He turned on the next available street, nipped down another, and then got out, hoping that when he came back it wouldn’t be on bricks. The area they were in was definitely dodgy. He pulled out the beanie and stuck it on his head and headed back to the spot where he’d left Jack.

  It didn’t take long to find him. He was about five minutes away from the address that he had given to Carla, so Michael tailed him from a distance. As they walked, he watched Jack. He wasn’t overly tall, probably about five eight, a shade smaller than himself, but with a narrow willowy build that made him seem smaller. His shoulders were hunched against the cold, hands rammed tightly in the pockets of the cheap waterproof. Occasionally he would pull out one hand and rub his head and the back of his neck as though he had a headache. He stopped by a derelict run of terraced houses, headed down the side, and disappeared around the back. Michael followed, watching as Jack picked his way over the rubble to a door that was propped shut. He shifted it and slipped inside.