Dawn Endeavor 1: Fallon's Flame by Marie Harte (book recommendations website TXT) 📕

Olivia stood still, bemused by this greeting. Though the environment wasn't exactly military, the mission fell under navy control. This beauty queen didn't fit with Olivia's preconceived notion of those on the job. A sailor, someone in a uniform or suit, maybe? But not Ms. Sexy USA.

“You coming?” The younger woman stood aside and waited, her hand on her hip.

“Ah yes.” Olivia stepped inside onto a marble tiled floor. The foyer had been filled with plants and a coat tree. The bright lights overhead only emphasized the cleanliness and grandeur of the place.

“Nice digs, eh? I'm Ava, Mrs. Sharpe's assistant.”

“Olivia,” Olivia said by way of introduction. She followed Ava through the house, aware of the silence all around. “This isn't quite what I was expecting.” Ava laughed. “I can imagine. A job with the navy is never this 'wow.' But then, this isn't your average government job.” Ava winked at her and led her to a set of closed double doors.

“Mrs. S.'s office. She's a pain in the ass, but she means well.” The doors opened. A petite woman with skin a shade darker than Ava's scowled her displeasure. “Ava, don't you have work to do?”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Working me to the friggin' bone,” she muttered and left in a flounce, back the way they'd come.

Mrs. S. sighed. “That girl. A terrific assistant, but she needs an attitude adjustment every now and then. Well, Ms. Lynn, come on in.”

Olivia followed Mrs. S., presumably Mrs. Sharpe, the woman who'd contacted her about the assignment, into the office. Like Olivia, she wore a feminine suit that defined competence and professionalism. Pleased they had that much in common, Olivia waited until Mrs. S. sat before taking the seat opposite her.

“I'm sorry I'm late,” Olivia began, but Mrs. S. waved her protest aside.

“No matter. I figured the weather or the directions would complicate matters. Finding your way around these parts in the dark isn't easy, and I live here. I'm Alicia Sharpe,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Olivia Lynn.” They shook hands, and Olivia felt a flare of power in that brief contact. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she sensed satisfaction in Mrs. Sharpe's touch. For an empath who often had trouble shielding herself from the world, the fact that she couldn't read Mrs.

Sharpe came as a real surprise.

“Would you like anything to drink or eat before we begin? You must be hungry after your trip.”

Olivia had left Dam Neck, Virginia, after putting in half a day's work. The four-hour trip had turned into a six-hour trip, thanks to a flat tire, an interstate pileup, and the weird back roads she'd had to use to find this place.

“I'm fine, but thank you for asking.” She propped her satchel beside her chair and crossed her legs, as prepared for the interview as she could be.

“What exactly do you know about this job?”

“It requires someone who speaks Portuguese, who has clearance, and who can be gone for months at a time without a problem.”

“Correct. We're in need of a translator for an upcoming trip abroad.” Olivia nodded, still not sure why she'd been selected to apply, considering she wasn't a linguist by trade. She'd leaped at an opportunity to escape a job that had begun to bore her, not wanting to deal with the headache of applying for a new job and moving again.

“But I'd like you to tell me why you think you'd be best for this task.” Olivia had this down pat. “As you know, I currently work at the naval base in Dam Neck, at the Expeditionary Warfare Training Group. I teach software instruction, so I'm familiar with both the IT field and training.”

Mrs. Sharpe nodded but said nothing. Her dark brown eyes didn't blink as she studied Olivia.

“I have a BS from Virginia Tech. I've been awarded several commendations from my supervisors for my hard work and innovative teaching techniques. I'm loyal and dedicated to any task set before me. I hold the necessary clearances for this mission, and I speak Portuguese like a native. My mother was born in Brazil. She moved here with my father, who was in the navy.”

“They died when you were young.” Of course Mrs. Sharpe had run a background check on her.

Olivia nodded. “My aunt and uncle raised me. A happy childhood with an emphasis on education. My uncle made sure I continued to learn the language, as my DLPT shows.”

“Yes, on your language proficiency test, you scored a four, which equates to a native speaker. Are you capable of taking orders?”

“Yes.”

“Can you adapt to change quickly?”

“Yes.”

“Can you think outside the box? Accept the possibility of that which is normally considered impossible?”

Hell, I can read emotions. That's pretty outside the box. “Yes.”

“Do you have a problem with men?”

“In what capacity, exactly?” Lady, you can't shake me. I'm like a tick hanging on to your every word. I want this job.

“You'll be working with four men on this mission.”

“I work with men all the time.”

“Yes, but you're outside the classroom here, Olivia.” What did the woman want to know? Olivia couldn't imagine she'd be tasked with anything dangerous. She wasn't trained for it and wouldn't have been selected for anything needing real-world experience. But she'd handled tougher interview questions, so she'd answer this one.

“I can handle myself. In addition to staying fit, I take self-defense classes. A single woman living alone can't be too careful.”

“True.” Mrs. Sharpe smiled, the first indication she liked Olivia. “Just one more thing. I'd like you to meet the men you'll be working with before I make my final decision. And if you get this job, you do know you'll train here before going out? That means you'll be required to eat and sleep here—in your own room, of course—alongside the team. A cohesive unit means less possibility for mishap out in the field.”

So she wouldn't be translating here. The possibility of leaving the States thrilled her. “Yes,