I woke in Ranger's heavenly bed to the smell of brewing coffee and Ranger stroking my hair.

"Morning, Babe."

"Ungh…. What time is it?" I said, pulling the covers up to my ears.

"Six thirty. I let you sleep as late as I could. Ximena needs to go through your contract and benefits paperwork with you before she leaves for Newark this morning."

My eyes shot open. Damn.

"Ella brought breakfast, and she has prepared a week's worth of uniforms for you. They're in the closet. Up and at 'em, badass," Ranger said, playfully slapping my blanket-clad butt and kissing my temple. "Welcome to Rangeman."

Wrapped in a towel, I stepped into Ranger's luxurious walk-in closet and saw that an entire section of his clothes had been replaced with a smaller, more feminine version of the black uniforms worn my Rangeman employees. I surveyed my black clothing options: three pairs of women's cargo pants, three pairs of dress slacks, three v-neck t-shirts with "Rangeman" embroidery, three dry-wick polo shirts with "Rangeman" embroidery, one suit jacket, one black pencil skirt, one black slinky camisole, one hooded sweatshirt, one quarter-zip pull-on sweater. I worried my bottom lip between my teeth as I slid open a drawer. It contained six pairs of black bikini underwear, three black lacy bras, a variety of black socks, and three black sports bras. The next drawer contained some black shorts and tank tops. On the floor, I had one pair of black CAT boots, one pair of black pumps, one pair of black ballet flats, and one pair of black Nike tennis shoes.

I heard Ranger at the closet door.

"It looks like Ella thought of everything," I said, glancing over my shoulder at him.

"She wanted to be sure you were taken care of," Ranger said, drying his hair with a towel. "Ximena will be here in a few minutes."

My stomach started feeling queasy. This was really happening. I was signing on full time at Rangeman. I swallowed hard.

"What do I need to wear today?" I asked, running my fingers across the various fabrics.

"Whatever you'd like. You're a bounty hunter today."

I nodded, selecting appropriate undergarments, a v-neck shirt, black cargo pants, and black boots. I dressed quickly, blasted my hair with the dryer, and applied light makeup. I studied myself in the bathroom mirror, silently thinking, Well… this is as good as it is going to get.

A place had been set for me at the bar with a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and turkey sausage. I poured myself a cup of coffee and dug into breakfast. Ranger was sitting at the table, typing into his laptop. I was surprised to see him in black work fatigues and boots.

"Are you working today?" I asked.

"Yes."

"I thought you had appointments. Physical therapy?"

Ranger gave a single nod. "I'll fit it in."

"You're still on light duty though, right?" I asked.

Ranger's brow furrowed, then the corner of his mouth tipped into a smirk. "Women ask a lot of questions."

We were interrupted with a knock at the door. I crossed the apartment and opened the door to Ximena. She was wearing an outfit similar to mine, but her v-neck shirt was heather grey.

"¡Bueños días, Steph!" she greeted, bursting into the apartment and surveying the room. "Hey, Carlos."

Ranger nodded at Ximena, taking his coffee mug into the kitchen.

Ximena Santos was Ranger's cousin. She was beautiful and Latina, with smooth, dark locks of hair that cascaded around her face and shoulders. Her skin was the color of caramel, and her straight, white teeth seemed to glow in the light. She was a no-nonsense kind of person, and despite being feminine, was a tomboy through-and-through. We'd hit it off during our time in Atlanta, and despite our short time having known one another, I thought of her as one of my closest and most trusted friends. She had previously worked in the Boston Rangeman office, but was working diligently to get a new office off the ground for Ranger in Newark.

"Do you wanna do this at the bar?" Ximena said, dumping an enormous pile of paperwork and file folders onto the counter and helping herself to coffee.

"Sure?" I said, gawking at the pile uncertainly. "I have that much paperwork? I figured you had most of what you needed already since I've done work for Rangeman in the past."

I ate another bite of eggs.

"Oh, this?" Ximena said, hopping onto a stool. "No, you only have a little paperwork—health insurance, life insurance, long-term disability insurance, 401k, dependent care assistance, health care savings plan, cell phone stipend, clothing allowance, corporate credit card agreement, non-disclosure agreements…"

I choked on my eggs. Ximena laughed loudly, holding up a single, thin file folder with my name on it.

"Relax, chíca. Most of this is related to the new Newark office. Job applications, job descriptions, information on available buildings for purchase or rent, and a variety of other things. Don't worry, we'll talk through all of it," she explained, smiling. "Ranger said you'd like to phase into work at Rangeman, so we'll discuss your schedule for the next month and your desired job description. There is a lot of grey area with your hire, so I think we can tailor your role to fit your strengths and professional goals while still helping me get Newark up and running."

I could feel the panic rising in my chest. I wasn't cut out for this kind of gig. I got to my feet and started a dash for the bathroom.

"Breathe," Ranger said, catching me mid stride and shoving my head between my knees. "Breathe, Babe. Change is hard, but it is going to be fine. Everyone wants you here. No one doubts your qualifications."

I sucked air and swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat. He was right. Change was hard. It felt like I was living in an alternate universe, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

"I have things to take care of downstairs, but I will to accompany you to the bonds office this morning," Ranger explained, releasing me to stand. "If you need anything, you know how to find me."

He handed me a key fob.

"I have replaced the fob you had that gave you direct access to my apartment with a fob that gives you access here and to other areas of the building. Ximena will show you to your office," Ranger said, picking up his laptop. "Have a good first day, and welcome to the team."

He kissed my temple and left.

Ximena walked me through all the paperwork, explaining the decisions I had to make and answering any questions I had. She made it simple, and for that, I was grateful.

"Your work schedule is flexible," Ximena explained. "There will be some specific times I need you available, but many of the tasks I need you to complete can be done independently and on your time. As long as deadlines are met, I don't care where or when you do your work."

I nodded. I was used to this type of work arrangement, so I appreciated this.

"There are a lot of people here who want to see you succeed and are here to support you. Lean on them if you have questions or struggles. In addition to the time spent working for me, I know you have a large quantity of FTAs you are working to return to the justice system. Ranger has asked that either Lester or I support you in the field. When we are unavailable, he will find another capable Rangeman employee. If there are any FTAs you would like to pass off to someone else, Ranger asks that you evaluate your files and pass off undesirable FTAs to him by the end of the week. I believe he will discuss the arrangements regarding your bond enforcement work in more detail this morning."

Handing off 'undesirable' skips? Hell yes, I thought to myself, identifying at least six off the top of my head I would gladly pass off.

"Our corporate values at Rangeman note the importance of investing in the professional development of our employees," Ximena said, opening a new file folder and extracting a piece of paper. "By investing in the development of your competence and skills, we guarantee the future success of our company. I have identified several areas for you to work on in your first three months of employment, but I would like for you to give input as well." She set the paper in front of me, gesturing to it. "Are there additional areas in which you would like to improve?"

I scanned the paper. It read:

Professional Development Plan: Stephanie M. Plum

Date of Hire: May 15

Goals for First 90 Days:

1. Improve competence and confidence with firearm. 30 minutes of range time three days per week with instruction.

2. Improve physical strength, speed, and dexterity. 30 minutes of private personal training three days per week.

3. Improve ability to assess risk and make decisions in risky situations. Know when to ask for help and best practices regarding risk management in the field. Direct guidance from supervisor will be utilized.

I swallowed hard. I hadn't considered this angle. I was going to have to do some real skill-development. I looked up at Ximena, whose face was devoid of emotion.

"Really?" I asked quietly.

She nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Are there other items you'd like to add?"

That seemed to cover it, so I shook my head no.

Ximena checked her watch. "Damn, Steph, I need to roll. I have a meeting in Newark, and I'm already going to be late. Your office is located on the second floor. It is marked, and your fob will get you access. Do you think you can find it yourself if I jet out of here?"

I nodded as she stacked up file folders, creating a neat pile.

"Awesome. You're going to do great, Stephanie. Let me know if you have any questions—you've got my number. I'm available to you 24/7 if you need me."

She put her dirty coffee mug in the dishwasher and headed for the door.

"Oh crap, I almost forgot," she said, turning and digging in her pocket. "Here is the key to your corporate car. It is yours for personal and professional use. It is in your spot in the garage."

She tossed me the keys.

"¡Díos mío! I've got to go! Have a good day, Steph!"

And with that, she was gone.

The elevator dinged, announcing I'd arrived on the second floor. My palms were sweaty and my arms were full of files as I entered the second-floor lobby. I hadn't spent much time in this part of the building, having primarily spent time in Ranger's apartment and on the fifth-floor control room. I found this floor to be spacious and quiet. I knew most of the employees who managed accounts and finances were housed on this floor, but I didn't know any of them.

I wandered around, taking in the new environment. Several small conference rooms were housed in the center of the building, with the outside, u-shaped perimeter lined with locking offices. I walked around the U and found a door with a small plaque next to it that read, "Ximena Santos: Newark Operations." The next door had a similar plaque that read,"Stephanie Plum: Executive Assistant."

I had a title?

I tried the door, but it was locked. I fumbled around, shifting items around awkwardly to access my key fob in my pocket, and managed to drop my pile of files. Documents covered the floor.

"Shit," I grumbled as I bent to collect the files.

"I wasn't sure how I felt about working with you full-time, but hell, with views like this, I could get used to it."

I turned around and flipped Lester the bird. He broke into contagious laughter.

Lester was one of Ranger's cousins and a member of the leadership team in Trenton's Rangeman office. He was good at his job, but he was a ladies-man through and through. He was also a jokester, often lightening the mood and driving ever-serious Ranger crazy. I'd worked with Lester on a variety of jobs, and I always had a fun time despite often being the punch line of the joke.

Lester used my fob to open my office door and turned on the lights for me.

"Home sweet home."

I stepped into my office and had to catch my breath. The office was spacious, with a small, black leather sofa and two club chairs inside the door. A black, L-shaped heavy wood desk was along one wall with a locking file credenza behind. The office had bookshelves and a small countertop space with a Keurig coffee maker and mini-fridge. An ultra-high-tech looking dual monitor desktop computer was set up on the desk with a laptop sitting nearby. I had a printer, phone, and a variety of other electronics I wasn't sure how to operate.

I let out a low whistle.

"The boss man pulled out all the stops," I said, smiling at Lester.

"You'd better not let Ximena hear you calling her a man—she'll take you to the mats and kick your ass," Lester laughed.

I laughed. Despite having a stomachache and a cramp in my ass about the logistics of this gig, Ximena was already proving to be an excellent boss.

"Ximena texted me to let me know she couldn't show you your office space, so I thought I'd stop by to get you started." He handed me a file folder. "This has login information for our computer system and password information for your e-mail account." He added a small key to my key ring. "This is the key for your locking file and gun safe," he explained, crossing to the desk. He unlocked a bottom drawer and removed a small Glock. "I assume you know how to operate this?"

I scowled. "Sure."

Lester laughed. "Well, you'll get some practice this week in the range. There is a holster and extra bullets in the drawer," he said, placing the gun back in the drawer and locking it.

"We didn't realize you'd be starting here today, so Ximena and I are tied up with other business. You'll be with Ranger."

"But I'm doing my bounty huntering thing," I said, scowling.

"He's going with you," Lester said.

"He's still not back to 100% after Atlanta. What the hell happened to light duty?" I asked.

Lester shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Not my problem. Have a good day, beautiful. If you need me, you know how to reach me."

And with a wink, Lester was gone.

I busied myself exploring the many drawers and cupboards in my office, finding it had been stocked with a variety of office supplies, tools, and snacks. I locked up Ximena's files, made sure my messenger bag was ready for the day, and headed to the fifth floor to find Ranger.

I found him in his office, sipping a bottle of water and working on his computer.

"How's it going?" I asked, sitting in a club chair near his desk.

Ranger gave a nod. "Finishing up some employment paperwork. Are you ready?" he asked.

"I was born ready," I exclaimed playfully.

"Do you have your gun?"

"Do bears poop in the woods?" I asked, hoping he'd drop the subject.

Ranger gave me an annoyed glare. "Is that a yes?"

I sighed. "Not exactly."

He locked his computer and stood. "You are an employee of Rangeman now. You will carry your gun at all times. We will begin the process of acquiring a concealed carry permit this week." He put his mobile phone in his cargo pants pocket and pulled on a windbreaker. "We'll pick yours up on the way out. Do you want to take my car or yours?"

In the secure, underground Rangeman garage, I found a sleek, black, tricked out Jeep Wrangler Rubicon in one of the parking spots that, apparently, now belonged to me. It had large tires with deep tread, chrome everywhere, and a front bumper light bar. I gave a low whistle.

"You and I both know my car karma sucks. Are you sure you want me to have this car?"

Ranger nodded. "If you work for this company, you have to have a reliable ride. This vehicle is appropriate for the job. And I had a bull bar installed just in case," he joked, pointing to the large, black bar across the front of the Jeep.

He showed me a variety of features the Jeep had to offer, including a locking gun drawer under the driver's seat (standard in all Rangeman cars), impact glass, a computer with GPS tracking technology, floor anchors for leg shackles in the back seat, a first aid kit, and tool box.

The Jeep was incredibly sexy and it reeked of new car smell. It made my heart race. I gave Ranger a once-over, deciding he was pretty damn sexy too.

"Babe, you're looking at me like I'm lunch."

"Aren't you?" I said with so much innuendo I think my panties caught fire.

Ranger's pupils dilated as he took me in his arms, pushing me against the driver's door of the Jeep. He took his key fob from his pocket and pushed a button, presumably scrambling the video feed. His lips connected with mine, trapping me in a passionate kiss that took my breath away and sent an electric current from my hair follicles to my pink toenails. I pressed my pelvis into his thigh, craving pleasurable pressure.

Ranger sucked air and cried out, releasing me to step back. I realized I had pressed directly into his healing wound site.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm fine," Ranger said, straightening up. "Just give me a minute."

I parked the Jeep on the street in front of the bonds office, and Ranger and I ambled inside, his slight limp more pronounced after the garage incident.

"Mornin'. Hot car," Connie said in her thick Jersey accent, gesturing at my Jeep. "What's with the car and the clothes?"

Connie Rizzoli was the bonds office manager. She was Italian, with big, dark hair, voluptuous breasts, a perfectly round back-side, and a faint mustache she occasionally waxed. She tended to resemble Betty Boop with her pencil skirts, tight sweaters, and high-heeled pumps. Connie had been in her job longer than I'd been a fugitive apprehension agent, and despite her shortcomings, she was great at her job. She had worked with Ranger when he collected FTAs for Vinnie, and they had an amicable relationship. She was a good judge of people, and she was detail-oriented. She was tough-as-nails and Jersey to the bone. Her family was mob, and she was tuned in to all the Burg gossip channels.

Ranger answered before I could find my words. "Stephanie is now a full-time employee of Rangeman. Is Vinnie here yet?" he asked, glancing at his steel-reinforced office door.

"Wow," Connie replied, giving me a once-over. "Congrats, Steph. That leaves us in a bit of a pickle, though." She turned her attention to Ranger. "No Vinnie yet. The weasel said he'd be in around nine, so we could expect him any time…. Or we might see him next week."

Ranger pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

"I need to see you."

He listened for a moment.

"Now. Bonds office."

He hung up.

"Never a man of many words," Connie said to me with a laugh. "What are you doing for Ranger, exactly?" she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"I'm helping him open the Newark office," I said, grabbing a donut from the open box on Connie's desk.

"Those will kill you," Ranger said, gesturing to my donut.

I stuck my tongue out at him and took a bite. Ten points for Plum.

"I'm going to keep working on the FTAs," I explained to Connie.

"Thank god," Connie said, fanning herself with a magazine. "Vinnie is bonkers with the number of open cases we've got right now. He is threatening to bring in Joyce. We might not stay afloat if we don't drag some of these creeps back in."

Joyce Barnhardt had a long history, and she was my arch enemy. She was a red-headed, surgically-enhanced slut who boinked my ex-husband on my dining room table before the ink on my marriage certificate had dried. Vinnie occasionally brought her in when we needed an extra hand…. Or when he thought he'd get some side nookie out of the deal.

I sighed. "I'll do my best, but the list is massive. I could use some help, but I don't think Joyce is the answer."

Ranger interjected. "Rangeman will take care of it."

"Great," Connie said, "because I need the job."

The back door slammed open, and Vinnie came stumbling in. Vinnie was my first cousin on the Plum side of my family. He closely resembled a weasel, with his long, lean body and his pointy nose. His whiney voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and despite being a sex-addicted man-slut, he was a pretty good bail bondsman.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Vinnie whined at Ranger, walking to his office door. "Not only do we have Rambo, we have Rambo junior today," Vinnie said, gesturing to me. "What's with the outfit, Steph?" Vinnie was momentarily distracted by the donuts on Connie's desk. He reached in to snag one, and Connie slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch those. I don't need to be catching gonorrhea or nothin'."

Vinnie got into Connie's face. "Hey, I know you buy those donuts out of the petty cash. I paid for those donuts, so they're rightfully mine," he said, reaching in again.

Connie slapped his hand away again, rising to her feet and getting into his face.

"YOU paid for the donuts? Last time I checked, this was the first time we've seen you in two weeks. I write the bonds and Stephanie hauls the creeps back in. What the hell do YOU do besides fuck ducks and bet on the races?" Connie asked, the anger apparent in her tone. "You're a slime ball who is collecting a paycheck off our hard work. You're the middle man. You're nothin'."

"That duck story has no truth to it, you ungrateful little…."

Ranger interrupted the argument. "Vinnie, I'd like to make you a business proposition."

"Be careful what you wish for," Connie said, taking a seat and rolling her eyes. "You and I both know that he'll screw anything that moves."

I couldn't help it…. I laughed so hard I choked on my donut.

"Babe."

"I'm good," I choked out, clearing my throat. I had no idea where the conversation was headed, but it was intriguing none the less.

"Vinnie, how much debt is this office in with the mortgage, outstanding bonds, and other accrued costs?" Ranger asked, his business face on.

"Who wants to know?" Vinnie asked, unlocking the multiple locks on his office door.

Ranger glared at Vinnie. "Me."

Vinnie scoffed.

"A lot. Why the hell do you care? Harry is footing the bill, but he's not gonna be happy when he sees this month's account statements."

Vinnie was married to Lucille, and their relationship was on-again, off-again at best. It was typically "off" when Lucille learned of Vinnie's many casual sexual relationships; it was "on" when she reluctantly took him back after much ass-kissing and whining. I don't know how the woman did it, but I couldn't put up with that kind of extra-marital nonsense. Harry, often called Harry the Hammer, was Lucille's father and Vinnie's father-in-law. Let's just say that he didn't get his name for a woodworking hobby. Vinnie had plenty to be worried about.

"How bad is it?"

"Well, let's just say if Stephanie doesn't get her worthless ass busy catching some Trenton scumbags soon, we're all out our jobs."

"I think I can help you," Ranger said, taking a seat on the corner of Connie's desk. "I'm looking to diversify Rangeman's services. I'd like to buy the bonds office."