“A real-life hero.” I could practically hear the smile in Angela’s voice and I had to hide my own. She was going to side with me. “This country does love its heroes. They also love when a celebrity falls for a regular person. Hold on, let me see if I can find a picture. James Raynes you said? From Bellingham, Washington?”
“Yes.” I squeezed my hands together and rocked on my heels. I knew what she was about to see.
“Oh my, well he certainly is handsome.”
I swallowed my snicker. That was one word for what he was.
Luis shook his head, muttering to himself, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
“Luis, think about it.” Angela’s tone was all business again. “The tabloids will eat it up. There’s already a backstory in place. Sexy bodyguard, damsel in distress, if that’s not a recipe for romance, I don’t know what is. It’s actually kind of perfect and I’m a little mad it wasn’t my idea.”
I wanted to say, “ha!” but I refrained. At least out loud.
“You are the expert in these matters,” Luis conceded. “However, a very clear contract will need to be drawn up.” Eyeing me he added, “I fear this situation could become rather messy and complicated if not handled delicately.”
“Of course. I’ll have one drawn up right away and leave you to make the phone call.”
“Actually,” I told Luis once Angela had hung up, “I’d like to make the call.”
Luis was good at reading people, just one of the many things that made him good at his job, but I was afraid it was working against me in that moment. How much could he sense?
He eyed me intently, a long pause hung in the air before he said, “Very well.”
With that, I walked out of the room and retreated to the comfort of my former room where at least I’d have quiet and privacy while I worked up the nerve to place the call.
Finger hovering over the number on my phone, I bit my lip and then blew out a breath.
Here goes nothing.
Three
James
I lowered myself into the chair in front of Spencer’s desk. His attention was on the stack of papers in front of him. “You wanted to talk to me?”
He leaned back in his chair and regarded me carefully. I knew from that look I wasn’t going to like whatever came next.
“Don’t tell me the asshole is pressing charges. After the stunt he pulled, he’s lucky I only hit him the once.”
“This isn’t about that. Charles Lewis isn’t pressing charges and after the ‘stunt he pulled’ as you put it, he’s no longer a Teller client.”
“Good.” Rich asshole and his rich buddies thought they could make a sport of setting their hired security against each other and betting on the underground matches. That shit did not fly with me. There wasn’t a dollar amount high enough to make me somebody’s bitch. “Then what is this about?”
He pretended to shuffle the papers around in front of him, not meeting my eyes. Spencer Shaw was, if anything, always direct and to the point. The ball of tension in my stomach coiled tighter.
Shit.
I really wasn’t going to like this.
I shifted in my seat. I swore he chose these uncomfortable pieces of shit just so no one would be encouraged to stay long in his office.
“I have a new job for you,” he finally said.
“Is that all?” I breathed out my relief and leaned forward resting my elbows on my legs. I shook my head, a laugh tumbling from my lips. “I thought you were calling me in here to fire my ass.”
“You may wish I had once I tell you what the job is.”
I lifted my head. “What is it?”
“A personal security job.”
Why was he looking at me like a doctor about to tell his patient he has cancer? Damn it. It was probably another young, billionaire, techie douche who wanted a bodyguard to go with him to the clubs to impress girls.
“Who?”
He cringed slightly. “An actress.”
“Another one?” Fuck. I changed my mind. Give me the douchebag.
“Not exactly.”
Dread clenched my insides. “What does that mean?”
“Same one.”
I shoved up from the seat. “Absolutely not. No fucking way.” There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going back to work for Riley James. Nope. No way. Not gonna happen. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a meth head’s spoon. He could go ahead and fire my ass.
“I wasn’t asking James. It’s your assignment.”
“Give it to someone else,” I growled. “Like the L.A. office.”
“I tried. She requested—no demanded, that it be you.”
I slammed my hand down on his desk. “Too. Damn. Bad.”
“It is. For you. Because you’re taking the job. Now sit the hell down so I can give you the details.”
I stood, locked in a stare down, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
Spencer’s shoulders sagged, and he released a weighty breath. “Just sit the fuck down and at least hear me out.”
I sank back into the chair. “Who’s bothering the princess this time?”
“Baker was released.”
“What? How?” After Nikolai and I caught the creep breaking into Riley’s trailer, he was arrested, and with the stalking charges and violating the restraining order, he should have gotten a year, or at the very least six months.
“He was admitted to a psych facility in Los Angeles and released last week because his doctors felt treatment was successful.”
I snorted. “Right. The guy’s obsessed with her for more than a year, but they cure him in two months. What kind of ass clown doctors were they?”
“Come on, James, you know how this goes. The guy was a non-violent offender, and the system is bogged down. Places like that have a revolving door for the lesser offenders.”
“So, is the princess worried he’s going to start back up again?” She should be.
“He already did.”
I balled my hands into fists and listened as he filled me in on the events of last night on the red carpet and this morning at her place.
Fuck. She really was in trouble if those incompetent idiots in L.A. kept releasing the creep.
“I still don’t understand why she insisted it has to be me,” I said once he’d finished.
“She knows you. Trusts you.”
“She knows Nikolai and Tripp too. Send one of them. They got along fine with her.”
“I already told you, she insisted on you.”
“This is just some fucking game for her.” Her ass was probably right now sitting in her ritzy Beverly Hills mansion laughing about having one more chance to screw with me.
Spencer shook his head. “I talked to her personally. She was shaken up. As she should be. She lives in one of the most exclusive and well-guarded gated neighborhoods in LA County. She has a top of the line security system and this guy still managed to get in and was waiting for her.”
“No idea how he did it?”
“Not yet. This is what we do, James. She needs help. We’re going to help her. You’re going to help her.”
I scraped my hand over my face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “What time is my flight?”
“Four-ten. I’ll have you set up with a rental and the address Miss James provided sent to your phone before you land. You’re meeting her at her stepfather’s home in Malibu where you’ll be provided with the rest of the details.”
I could have sworn one corner of his mouth tug up as a twinkle of amusement danced through his eyes before his expression was serious again. “You’ll be round the clock on this one, living in her house. Once you’re there, get her set up with a Teller system, and you’ll have the L.A. office at your back. The guys there will be ready to relieve you if you need a day off.”
“I’m not even there yet and I already need a day off,” I muttered.
“Don’t forget sunscreen,” he called out as I exited his office.
I threw up the bird
over my shoulder and his chuckle followed me out into the hall.
Nikolai had his feet up on the table and was smirking at me when I entered the break room to grab some coffee before I took off.
“You heard?”
He laughed. “Guess she missed you.”
“Fuck you.” I walked over to the coffeepot, ignoring his continued laughter. Cam came in right behind me.
“What’s so funny?”
I grunted.
“Our boy here has to head to California to play bodyguard for the princess again.” He was way too fucking amused by this. I kept my back to them and I drank the black coffee from the cup in my hand.
I felt a hand slap me on the back. “Sorry man.” I doubted his sincerity considering he was also laughing.
“Fuck you too.”
“Just don’t kill her. We haven’t lost a client yet. My brother will kill you if you tarnish our record.”
“I make no promises,” I said over the rim of my cup. Riley Fucking James had been a thorn in my side for nearly four months while she’d been filming in the area. I’d only been free of her for six weeks. Six glorious weeks.
There was a very good chance one of us wouldn’t it make it out of this assignment alive.
Spoiled.
Entitled.
Full of herself.
Up-tight.
Prissy.
Self-centered.
Vain.
Conceited.
Bitchy.
Gorgeous.
Abso-fucking-lutely drop dead, distractingly, gorgeous.
This was not what I signed on for last year when I let Spencer talk me into coming to work for him after I got out of the Army.
Still, my ass was on the plane come four o’clock. I could only pray this job was over quick. Not that I’d ever had that kind of luck in my life.
As promised, the car and the address were waiting for me when I landed.
Ten minutes into the drive and I was already cursing California and its drivers. They were worse than Seattle drivers. I hadn’t known that was even possible.
GPS map was red for miles, and I watched them tick by slowly until I finally got off the clusterfuck that was the 405. The drive through Santa Monica, along the coast, with the sun setting over the water out my window only slightly made up for it.
I rolled the window down and inhaled my first breath of ocean air.
Maybe California wasn’t all bad. Get rid of the people and I’d like it just fine.
I slowed when I neared the marker on my GPS map. I found the gate with the correct address and pulled the dark SUV up to it. There was a buzzer and mounted security camera. I hit the buzzer and a minute later the gates slowly swung open in front of me.
I followed the short drive through a copse of palm and other trees until the house was revealed. It was more beach bungalow than house, if, you know, bungalows, were giant, pretentious mansions. A huge garage was connected on one side and a Tennis court sat off to the other. There were a couple cars in the drive, but my eyes snagged on the light blue, vintage Camaro in front of the garage. I pulled alongside the sweet ride and shut off the SUV.
I left my shit in the back and went in search of the front door, which wasn’t immediately visible. I followed the obvious path through a tree shrouded courtyard with a large pond containing several fountains and different types of fish.
After ringing the wind chimey sounding bell, the door was answered by Riley’s friendly assistant Jayne. “You found it,” she chirped.
“Yup.” I pushed my shades up onto my head and waited.
We both stood there. I rocked forward on the balls of my feet.
“Oh, umm, come in.” She stepped back and pulled the door open wider to reveal the large foyer which led into the rest of the home. I stepped inside. The place was wide open with vaulted ceilings and windows that ran from floor to ceiling around three sides of the house, offering a spectacular view of the beach. It had one of those Cinderella staircases leading upstairs from the foyer. You know the ones.
“Riley, Luis, and her publicist are outside. I’ll take you to them.” Jayne led me through the kitchen and out onto the brick patio that ran the length of the house, featuring a pool and hot tub, with steps that led down from the deck right onto the sand.
Luis Castillo rose up out of his seat to meet me, the picture of slick in his white dress pants, button up shirt opened at the collar, an expensive gold cross resting there. His black hair was oiled back with so much shit I could probably see my reflection in it. Exactly as I remembered the guy.
Beside him, a smart looking blonde in a bright yellow frilly shirt and grey skirt that hugged her curvy figure, eyed me up and down.
“Good to see you again.” Luis jutted out his hand. The man had a weak grip. Hard to respect a guy that delicate.
The woman gave my hand a much firmer squeeze. “Angela Cooper, it’s nice to meet you.” She held on maybe a second too long. Her hazel eyes twinkled, but mine were drawn over her shoulder.
Riley didn’t get up. I raked my gaze over her, stretched out on her lounger, in a pair of cutoff shorts that showed off long, tan legs. A blue sweatshirt hid the rest of her tight body but made those eyes, the same color as the turquoise waters in the pool, pop. They were gleaming when I reached them, and her glossy pink lips curled up at the corners.
Wasn’t the first time she’d caught me checking her out. We both knew it wouldn’t be the last. That couldn’t be helped.
The blonde hair piled on top of her head was a change. It suited her. More natural than the dark color it was while filming. As natural as anything in Hollywood could be, anyway.
“Please have a seat, won’t you,” Luis suggested.
I lowered myself onto the cushioned deck chair furthest from Riley. The other three filled in between us. Still, I watched her out of the corner of my eye while Castillo went over the situation in more detail than Spencer had.
“Now, I know Riley has complete trust in your abilities as well as your discretion,” Castillo’s eyes narrowed. I sensed a but.
“Of course. Her privacy will be respected at all times.” Whatever secrets or vices the princess had, they would remain secret. I wasn’t interested in doing anything other than my job.
“All the same, I’m sure you understand why we ask that you sign a non-disclosure agreement, and the special contract we drafted given the unique arrangement. Your boss has already looked over both.”
Unique arrangement?
Did he mean because I was essentially going to be moving in to Riley’s house? Not every client requested that level of protection, but it wasn’t uncommon, not given the circumstances.
Whatever, this guy clearly needed to be in control. “I understand.”
“Wonderful. I have them in my office.” He rose. “Shall we?”
I followed suit, sparing another look at Riley. Was it my imagination or did she seem nervous? She and Jayne hung back, but Angela was right on my heels as we crossed the patio to another set of glass doors that led inside the house. They opened up into what appeared be Castillo’s home office. Paperwork was my least favorite part of the job, but if I could sit at that giant mahogany desk and look out at the Pacific Ocean as I did it . . . I would still hate it, but the view would be nicer than the grey walls of my workspace. Luis collected a stack of neatly collated papers, and the no doubt pricey fountain pen lying on his desk and passed them to me.
“On top is the confidentiality forms, and then the contract. Please review both carefully.”
“Let us know if you need clarification on anything. The lawyers were very careful with this one,” Angela added.
I glanced through the first page of the confidentiality agreement similar to every other one I’d ever signed. If I spoke about anything I heard, witnessed, etc., they would sue my ass, blah blah blah . . . I skimmed the rest and signed my name on the last page. Castillo cleared his throat and frowned at me.
“Don’t need to read eve
ry line. I’m not going to discuss any part of this job with anyone outside of my boss, and I’m sure you’ve already had him sign a similar agreement.”
Castillo confirmed this with a nod.
I flipped to the contract, which at first glance appeared as straightforward as the other, until my eyes picked out a section that read, ‘Acceptable Public Behaviors.’ Beneath that a list was laid out.
Hand holding
Chaste kissing
Casual embraces
Romantic and tasteful poses for pictures
Non-lewd or sexual dancing
What the hell was this?
My eyes skipped further down to the next list of unacceptable behaviors that would result in my immediate termination.
Non-chaste kissing
Groping
Lewd or sexual dancing
Sexual touching of any kind
Drunkenness
Drug use
The list went on to include a few more things that I would never consider engaging in while on a job with a client. What the actual fuck was this contract? “Yeah, I’m going to need some clarification here,” I said, looking up from the contract.
“On which part?” Angela stepped closer, eyes dropping to the paper in my hand.
“All of it. I think there’s been a mistake. You gave me the wrong contract.” It read more like a contract for a paid escort.
“Did we?” Angela tugged on the edge of the contract. I let her have it.
“No, this is the correct one.” She looked at me with confusion.
“Excuse me?” I snatched it back. “Under what circumstances will I be engaging in ‘hand holding and chaste kissing’?”
“You and Riley can go over the particulars and decide what you’re both comfortable with. This is just to cover our bases since you’re going to be acting as her boyfriend in public, and we don’t want—”
“Hold on. Back up. I’m going to be what?”
“Did Mr. Shaw not inform you of this?”
He sure the fuck didn’t. “No, he did not,” I ground out. “You’re saying he was informed?”
Castillo looked to Angela. She bobbed her head. “Yes. He was sent an identical copy of the contract to review before he agreed your company would take the job.”
A Taste of Pink (Shades Book 4) Page 4
