No More Mr. Nice Guy Read Online Free

the right of the screen and hit a button so that we could hear what they were saying.
    â€œThanks for the offer, gentlemen, but I’m no soldier of fortune. And to be quite honest, after what I’ve been through the past few years, a desk job sounds pretty good to me. I just want to lead a normal life.” He took a step toward the door.
    â€œNiles, guys like us don’t lead normal lives,” Lance countered.
    â€œWell, I’m sure as hell gonna try.” With that, Niles Monroe was out the door.
    Jonathan turned to me. “I guess you’re up.” He pointed to the hall, where Niles was passing by our conference room.
    I hurried into the hallway, determined to catch up with him at the elevator bank before he left the building.
    He was even better looking in person. When he turned to notice me standing beside him, I gave him a smile. He must have liked what he saw, because as he pushed the down button and we waited for the elevator to arrive, I saw him surreptitiously checking me out. I had him by about 8 years—maybe more, but from the way he was grinning, it was obvious he knew a real woman when he saw one. Yes , I told myself as the elevator doors opened, he’s going to be fun to train .
    When we stepped onto the elevator, I pushed the button for the lobby and then turned to him. “Excuse me, Mr. Monroe. My name is Bridget St. John. Can I speak with you for a moment?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know my name?”
    â€œI’m a field supervisor for the company.”
    â€œI should have known.” He sighed, shaking his head.
    â€œMr. Monroe, you’re an extremely talented man. If you’d just give me five minutes—”
    â€œLook.” He cut me off, frustration evident on his face. “No offense, but I don’t want to talk to anyone from your company anymore. I’m done.”
    â€œI do work with them, but I’m not them. If you come and work for me, then I’m the only person you’ll have to ever deal with. That way you can see for yourself that we’re not all alike.”
    â€œYou want me to take a job killing for you—right?”
    I said nothing, because I couldn’t deny what he was asking.
    He continued, as if my silence had answered for me. “Then I don’t want to work with you or anyone like you. I got plans for my life, plans that don’t include killing anyone. My killing days are over,” he said as the elevator arrived in the lobby. He stepped out and strode with purpose out of the building.
    I stood there watching him leave. This Niles Monroe was really the most interesting person I had met in a long time. His mind seemed to be made up, but then again, I could be a very persuasive woman with a lot of resources at my disposal.

Niles
    4
    The sun was shining through the windows of the cab as it exited the Southern State Parkway headed toward Wyandanch. I’d just left that waste of time interview with Dynamic Defense and was staring out the window like some lost tourist visiting for the first time. The neighborhood I’d grown up in didn’t look anything like it had when I left ten years ago, straight out of high school. It had undergone a real transformation, I thought, as we passed a strip where a small row of stores had been torn down to make way for commuter parking lots and the new apartment building and shopping complex next to the Long Island Railroad station.
    Despite the new buildings and the urban renewal, some things would never change, and as far as I was concerned, Wyandanch was one of them. When we turned off Straight Path down Long Island Avenue, I spotted ten or fifteen drug boys standing in front of the convenience deli like it was lunchtime and they were giving away free sandwiches. I swear they were the same dealers who used to stand around there when I was in high school. You could put lipstick on a pig, but when it came down to it, it was still just a