“We could just do breakfast.”
Booker laughed. “Do you like pancakes?” He opened the passenger door for Chloe to climb in, then placed the picnic tote in the back. He strolled across the front of the Jeep and settled in before starting it up.
“My favorite.”
Booker turned to watch Chloe buckle her seatbelt. “Listen, let’s not overthink this thing that’s happening between us. I’ve only got a few weeks with you and I want to enjoy every minute together. No more fighting and no more questioning it, okay?”
“Okay,” she replied, captivating him with her smile.
They rode back in silence. Booker’s thoughts returned to the mission. With the case file sitting at the safe house, knowing the facts of what happened to her the last year, his stomach twisted. She’d been through enough and he needed to be selfless. Even though she’d told him more information about the foundation, it still wasn’t enough.
Chloe wasn’t as involved as he originally thought. But why were the foundation’s financial documents at her home? What was so important to have them in the security of her bedroom rather than with the staff or with Stacey? Did she not trust them? It was a good thing Tyco had run the background checks on the staff members and their affiliates. So far nothing appeared suspicious.
From the moment Booker first saw Chloe, in her red gown, her soft naked back when she was bending over at his check-in table, she was gorgeous and out of his league. He also knew she was Doctor Sarah Channing’s daughter. He disregarded it only to act as though she were any other guest that attended the gala.
Chloe surprised him with her down-to-earth personality—she wasn’t all about the glitz and glam. Just as Chloe had mistaken Booker as a player, he had mistaken her as an uptown rich girl. He wished he had taken the initiative to continue their conversation afterwards when he met her at the gala, but the timing wasn’t right.
Maybe things would be different had he done so.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda.
Now he had a job to do.
He needed to peel back the layers with her and dive deeper into this foundation. Booker knew there was more to her than she let on.
What clues were hiding in plain sight? Why was Chloe a target?
Murky thoughts of the photo Rocky sent him earlier replayed in his mind. It was evident the bastard was after Chloe by the red circle marked around her face. Was Chloe that naïve to not realize this? Did she mention it to her father and in turn to Knox? But Knox would’ve said something.
“Hey, you okay?” Chloe turned to face him, interrupting his thoughts.
Booker nodded and placed his hand on her knee. “I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.” He was afraid Chloe would see right through him. He’d been playing a role of secrets and lies.
Guilt and betrayal.
Pain and turmoil.
One thing remained true, he wanted to take care of Chloe, keep her safe, no matter the cost. Even if she discovered his true identity, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
“What about?”
“You.” Booker glanced at Chloe, seeing the rosiness in her cheeks. Not sure if it stemmed from being in the sun all morning or his comment.
“Me?”
“Just how amazing you are. The wonderful things you’re doing for the foundation. How do you find the time to do it all?”
“That’s a good question. I guess, the volunteers and the staff have made it easy. Sometimes I take the workload home with me.”
“Why would you need to take the workload home with you?”
“Since I’m at the hospital all day, I don’t like staying at the shelter too late. It can get a bit creepy in that part of town. So, I take home some of the financials to make sure all things match. Checks and balance…stuff like that.”
One thing Booker could count on was Chloe’s babbling mouth. “Financials?” he asked.
“The staff doesn’t need to know the amount of donations in the accounts. It’s my responsibility to touch base with the outside financial firm that oversees the funds to make sure the various shelters have what they need to run efficiently.”
“Hmm.” Booker looked intently at the road ahead as he kept driving. His thoughts flashed back to the night he met her when Chloe was hiding from her mother in the grand hallway. Something triggered when Doctor Channing mentioned a man Chloe needed to meet, about adding her name to the accounts.
What was that fucker’s name? Mr.…Koll-something.
“Why the sudden interest in the foundation?” She sat back, brows wrinkled in confusion.
Damn. Too many questions.
“Maybe I’d like to donate something to your foundation.” He hated lying to her but needed to think quick while he was ahead.
Booker loathed this part of his assignment. If Chloe found out about him being her protective detail, devastation. He gripped the steering wheel; stabbing pain pierced his gut. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. His mind like a damn seesaw. But it was more important for him to have Chloe find out about the lies and possibly hate him, than for Booker to mourn another dead woman.
“A donation? Really?”
“I think what you do is amazing. Maybe I can talk to my mom and sister to help out.”
Chloe beamed. “You would do that?”
With his right hand, Booker caressed her rosy cheek with his knuckles. “Of course.”
They talked more about how Booker would give his mom and Fabi a call to ask what they could do for the foundation. Chloe seemed ecstatic and the conversation lightened, shifting to Chloe’s plans at the spa with her friends. Booker offered to drive the women there and pick them up after. This gave him enough time to touch base with KSIG and inquire if there had been any more leads.
After he dropped the women off, he headed to the safe house to review the financials Rocky emailed to him. He came upon a familiar name. O’Hare Financial Enterprises held all the funds—the bank was also Ryland’s family business. Booker searched for a name of someone managing the account but could not find it in the file.
A needle in a fucked-up haystack.
One thing was for sure, there were millions of dollars spread across several accounts in the OFE bank. Budget sheets for the various shelters and homes showed the incoming donations and the allocations of its spending. It was very organized to say the least. Except for one account and the unexplained debits. Was Chloe aware of the withdrawals?
When Booker spoke with Tyco, he wasn’t sure what this account entailed. Being one of the best hackers Booker had met, nothing was impossible for Tyco, who was still working to discover who was withdrawing from it.
Since there was nothing more Booker could do until he got new information from Tyco, Booker shoved the file in the safe in his bedroom. He’d instructed Tyco to look into the O’Hares and any of the employees involved with the foundation. God forbid they were involved with Sarah’s death and Chloe’s attack—it would devastate Chloe. But no matter the cost, he needed to figure this out.
Booker headed back to the spa to pick up the ladies. While he waited in his Jeep, his mind traveled down memory lane.
When Booker was stateside, he would take Amber to and from work, a quaint day spa where she worked as a receptionist. The hurt, the anger of losing her, the betrayal. It’d been five years and Amber somehow pulled him back. But now with this longing for Chloe, to have feelings once again, guilt stirred in his chest.
His emotions were in a whirlwind and he needed to hear the sweet sound of reason. Booker reached for his cell phone sitting on the dashboard and tapped the first name at the top of his speed dial.
“Julian?” a woman’s slight Spanish accent answered on the other end of the line.
“Hi, Mom.” The sound of her voice was like a warm blanket covering him.
“Is everything alright? You never call me when you’re working.”
“I’m fine.” Indistinct chattering filtered through the other end of the line.
�
��Knox will have your head for making personal calls while on the job. Isn’t it a cardinal rule or something?”
“I’m on protective detail and there’s no immediate danger. Besides, I called to hear your voice, that’s all.”
“I know that tone, Julian Diego Cruz. What’s the matter?” Her motherly voice was firm.
How does she do that? Damn maternal instincts.
Booker envisioned his mother in the office sipping on a hot cup of tea, wearing her St. John attire and her hair piled in a bun at the top of her head, peering over various colors of fabric and material spread across a long table.
Booker heard a younger-sounding, high-pitched echo, most likely Nikki, her assistant. “Mrs. Fremont, line one,” Nikki’s voice came through the line. “It’s Paul from PWF Textiles.”
“Tell him I’ll call him back,” Isabella told Nikki. “I’m talking to Julian.”
“Julian? Tell him hello and I’m still waiting for him to take me to lunch,” Nikki teased. A click sounded, most likely Isabella’s office door closing shut.
“I swear…that Nikki has had a crush on you since I hired her straight out of college six months ago.” Isabella giggled.
“Mom, she needs to find a man her age. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Mijo, I always have time for you. Please, tell me, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Have you heard from Fabi?” he asked, easing his mother’s concerns to lighten the mood. Every time Mom spoke of Fabiola, it buoyed her spirits, being such a proud mother.
“Yes. I spoke with your sister this morning. She has a new man, you know.”
“Another one?” Booker rolled his eyes. “When is she ever going to settle down? That must be, what…the fourth guy in the last year?”
“His name is Remi,” Isabella said, her voice gleaming. “And she told me she really likes him. Sounds serious.”
“That’s what she said about the last one,” Booker huffed, resting his head on the seat.
“Well, Remi will accompany Fabiola when she comes home for the holidays. So, when you talk to her, be nice.” Her voice was cool and stern.
“I’m always nice to my baby sister. But I have a big-brother duty to at least give this Remi guy the third degree. Maybe Knox and I can take him on one of our hunting trips?”
“Julian, I said to be nice.”
“I am being nice. To my sister. I never agreed to be nice to him.” Booker laughed at his ribbing.
“Aye, Julian. Fabiola will hate you.” Isabella’s screech was laced with humor.
“Eh, she’ll get over it,” he chided, switching the phone to his other ear.
“Certainly, you didn’t call me to ask about your sister?” Booker heard his mother take a sip. “What’s going on with you, Julian?”
“Nothing. Can’t a son call his mother?”
“Hmm. Nice try. I may be an old lady, but I’m certainly not a dumb one to know something is up.”
“How?” Damn, she must be clairvoyant.
“It’s in the sound of your voice.”
“Nothing can get past you…okay. I’m working on a case.”
“And? That’s all you called to tell me?” Mom asked skeptically. “You don’t talk about your cases with me…ever. Rules, remember?”
“I was thinking of Amber…again.”
“Oh, sweetheart. You need to stop blaming yourself and move forward.”
“Move forward?” Booker took a deep breath. “I’m never going to forget her.”
“And no one is saying you should. I’m saying you need to stop living in the past.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom, the thing is, it’s more betrayal I’m feeling.”
“Betrayal? I don’t understand.”
“This case…” Booker watched a few women exit the glass doors of the salon. “I feel like I am betraying her.”
“I’m lost, sweetheart. Betraying who? What does this case have to do with Ambrosia?” Mom quieted, waiting patiently for an answer.
Booker hesitated, measuring his response. Isabella never judged her children’s love lives—case in point, Fabi with her new man, Remi. “This woman…I met her two years ago…and I don’t want to screw it up.”
“Mijo.” His mom took a sharp, sincere breath. “I was wondering when this day would come. Now listen to me. After your papa died, I wasn’t sure how I could live without him. Your father’s death sucked all the energy I had. I lay in bed for days, weeks even. I couldn’t look at you because you reminded me so much of him. Knox was your father’s best friend and told me that he promised your father he would watch over us. He checked on me every day, making sure I was getting better for myself and for you. Helped me cope and healed my heart, putting the pieces back together. If you’re lucky enough to get a second chance, don’t pass it up. As much as I still love your father, always will, Knox was my second chance. In the end, we all want to be with someone, to belong.”
“But isn’t it too soon to feel like this?”
“Oh, my sweet son. There is no timeline. The heart is a crazy thing. You will always love Ambrosia and that will never go away. You just need to let this woman in your heart, make a little bit of room for her so you can heal.” His mother’s concerned voice comforted him. “Some people don’t get second chances. If this is yours, take it, Mijo.”
“It’s funny…she says she’s not afraid to try…but I’m afraid.” Booker squeezed his eyes shut.
“Afraid of love?”
“Yes, but also…afraid of failing. Just as I failed Amber.”
“You need to learn to let go of the things that are holding you back from true happiness. Only you are in charge of your future.”
“Your future is what you make of it. There is destiny and then there is your destiny,” Booker whispered, remembering what Rocky told him.
“What did you say, Julian?” Her voice raised through the line. “You broke up.”
“Nothing. It was something Rocky told me earlier.” In spite of his fear, a smile tugged on Booker’s lips. Were both of these women right? Is their encouragement really enough?
“Julian, I wish I could snap my fingers and make things better for you.”
Booker sighed, letting her voice comfort him through the line. “I know, Mom. The thing is, my assignment is to protect her. Some jackass is after this woman. And she’s so distracting, she doesn’t even realize it, whether she’s in front of me or not. I’m afraid I’ll let my guard down and miss the threat, just like I did with Ambs.”
“I know you can’t tell me too much about your assignment. But I also know you are very good at your job and you will do everything in your power to protect this woman. I have raised you to be an amazing man and I am prouder of you than you will ever know. If I believe in you, you need to do the same.”
“You’re pretty amazing, you know?” Booker smiled, hoping his mom could hear it in his voice.
“I’ve been told.”
He chuckled. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, sweetheart. Now, go be the badass agent I know you are.”
“Shh, keep your voice down,” Chloe scolded. She looked around the spa at the other women, their eyes narrowed at Chloe and her friends.
Despite the relaxing day so far, there was no way Chloe would be able to avoid the third degree. The three women finished getting their hot stone massages and milk baths. They sat in their oversized salon chairs, hair wrapped in white towels and cuddled in their white cotton robes while indulging in mani/pedis.
Candles softly lit around the room set the ambience. Scents of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air and soft harp music played in the background.
“You kissed him?” Ryland whisper-yelled. “I can’t believe we’ve been here for the last three hours and you didn’t say shit.”
“You didn’t ask.” Chloe shrugged, taking a sip from her lemonade.
“I can’t believe you missed it, Ry,” Phoebe cut in, sitting on the other side of Ryland. �
�Oh, yes…I remember now, you were dry-humping your hottie.”
“My guy was hot, wasn’t he?” Ryland added, carefully fanning her face with manicured fingers.
“Yes, Ry. Tell us about your night.” Chloe’s mouth turned up in a playful smile, grateful for the diversion.
“Who? Seth? Nothing happened. We danced. End of story.” Ryland half-shrugged. “His friends made a last-minute trip from Miami and he’s getting married next weekend. And I am not the kind of girl to be someone’s last booty call before he’s someone’s ball and chain. And what about you, Fee? Your tall dark and handsome was—”
“Fuckin’ amazing,” Phoebe squealed. “May I emphasize fucking. I love no-strings-attached sex.” Phoebe licked her lips seductively. “He was Seth’s best man. And he really is the best with what he did last night.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“I swear, you must have a guy buried deep inside you to talk the way you do,” Ryland piped out.
“Oh, Matt was deep inside me alright.” Phoebe’s shit-eating grin brightened her face.
“Slut,” Ryland chided.
“Tramp,” Phoebe retorted. “Anyway, let’s get back to the juicy stuff.” Phoebe tilted her head, glaring at Chloe. “Well? Spill it, hon.”
“We kissed.” Chloe smiled, heat warming her cheeks.
“Were they drop-your-panties kisses?” Ryland asked.
“God, yes… He’s so perfect yet frustrating. I feel like I’ve known him forever and yet he’s so mysterious. It’s just that…”
“Uh oh, I know that look.” Ryland narrowed her eyes, waving her finger.
“What look?” Chloe countered.
“You fell for him.”
Chloe leaned back in the chair. “I don’t know. I like him a lot.”
“All I know is I’m getting my Louboutin heels.” Phoebe declared, sipping her lemonade through a straw.
“I didn’t have sex with him.”
“Yet...and trust me, you will. He’s too hot to pass up. So, tell us…did he kiss like this?” She swirled her tongue around the straw.
Till I Found You: The Broken Hero Series—Book One Page 12
