“Yeah, so.” He shrugged and winced.
“You okay?” She couldn’t help her concern.
“I’m fine, Nurse Coleman. Ticktock. We’re on the clock.”
He wasn’t fine but she agreed to be his secret bodyguard, not his mother. She jogged upstairs and pulled her Samsonite carry-on out of the closet. The essentials, plus a fresh standard black on black I’m working suit, and her toiletry kit. A jacket because London was always cold. Her gun, she had to leave, but she’d rearm in London, and her passport. Jeans, tee, sweater, and a call to Laverne. She’d take care of any emergencies while Calista was away. Fifteen minutes later she was back in the living room, standing over a sleeping Julius.
Calista liked him like this, the permanent scowl gone, his face relaxed, almost innocent in sleep. She let him sleep while she dumped the lo mein, took out the garbage, and ran the dishwasher. Ten more minutes wouldn’t make a difference and she didn’t want to return to a dirty house and crusty dishes.
He hadn’t moved from his position, legs stretched out, hands relaxed on his knees, head tipped and resting on the chair. A five o’clock shadow graced his lean cheeks and sharp jawline. It shouldn’t make him more irresistible, yet it did. It was wrong for her to want to curl up on his lap and join him in slumber, which didn’t stop her from wanting it.
She touched his shoulder. “The Lear’s waiting, remember?”
Startled, his gaze darted around the room then landed on her. He smiled, warmth in his eyes, which slowly morphed into a scowl. “Yeah. Jet. London.”
He grabbed her suitcase before she could protest and headed out the door to the waiting limo at the curb. He handed her luggage to the driver and held the door open for her. She noted the black Escalade with Rhodes behind the wheel and Scotts in the passenger seat.
“I can ride with them.” She’d feel more comfortable.
“My assistants ride with me.” He pointed to the interior and waited.
It was useless pointing out the assistant thing was pretend, especially when he wasn’t wrong. Calista climbed in, picked a seat and made herself comfortable for the short ride. Didn’t know what she was worried about when he whipped out his phone and ignored her. Julius couldn’t fool her. He wasn’t okay. His color was pasty, sweat dotted his forehead, and his raspy breathing annoyed her. He may be working out, hitting the gym, but he was a long way from well.
Then she remembered his nurse. She had better be on the jet. “Where’s your nurse?”
“She’s no longer needed.”
Bullshit, but she kept that to herself. “Why did your other nurse leave?” Nurse Pretty.
“Harden wanted her, so I let him have her.”
“Excuse me?” she spat, disgusted. “You let him have her? Like she was a coat he borrowed? That’s a douche move.”
Finally, he gave her his undivided attention, puzzlement on his face. “Harden didn’t kidnap the woman. She was quite willing when she left. Now, her replacement I was about to fire.”
“Why?”
“I needed a nurse, not a mother.”
Unbelievable that caring too much could get you fired. “You don’t know if she has a family to support, kids or someone other than herself depending on her paycheck.”
Julius sighed. “Fired or let go, the point is mute because I’m on the way to London and she’s not here. Now stop nagging, she left with a glowing reference.”
Nagging, huh. “Did your doctor give you approval to fly?”
“I’m fine.”
Men. Idiots, all of them. Bodyguard, personal assistant, and nurse. She needed a bigger paycheck for all this stress.
They rolled up to the private hangars. Cursory pat down, then they boarded. This wasn’t her first time on a private jet, but damn, this was the nicest. Done in bone with gray paneling, the leather seating matched the walls.
Rhodes, Scotts, and two more bodyguards, Sunny she met when she entered the penthouse earlier in the day, and the other whom she’d never met, made themselves comfortable in the front of the plane.
“Where’s Ted?” she asked Scotts.
“Family obligations.”
Calista nodded remembering Ted shared custody of his two daughters. She stretched her hand for a shake to the two newcomers. Sunny was a heavyset white boy with tattoos peeking over the collar of his button-down and a dollar sign on one of his knuckles. He was built like a professional wrestler. She got a strange vibe from him. Edwards was a slim, dark-skinned man the same height as her. Unassuming is the vibe she got from him and liked it. He was the type to blend into a crowd and protect a client from afar. Eliminate the threat before the client knew they were in the crosshairs.
“When did you come on board?” she asked both men.
“Two days ago,” Edwards said.
“How long you two been bodyguarding?” she asked, making small talk. Couldn’t have been long since she’d never met them. They all had the same goal, protecting the client. The better she knew the newbies, the easier the task would be.
“Long enough,” Sunny answered full of cocky aggression.
The way he said it led her to one conclusion. Fresh off the boat. Which meant their skill sets were unknown. She gave a mental shrug. It was probably okay. Whoever put two bullets in Julius wasn’t after him. Harden Gage was the target. Five bodyguards was an overabundance of caution Julius could afford.
“How you go from bodyguard to P. A.?” Sunny threw out all smug as he eyed her as if it were a demotion.
Fury scorched her insides even as her lips curled into a faint smile. Not hard to figure out what this was about. And she wasn’t deaf, so she didn’t miss the not so subtle innuendo. Rhodes leaned forward, ready to set him straight. One hard glare from her and he sat back, crossed his foot over his knee, and left it to her to set the new asshole straight.
“Hard work.” The new asshole didn’t need to know she wasn’t really his assistant. Not yet.
She bumped fists with Rhodes and Scotts and took a seat in the middle. Julius looked up from his laptop at his desk across from her. Did he hear and have an opinion? Nothing was said as the flight attendant came by with pre-flight instructions.
As soon as the plane took off and reached cruising height, she slipped in her earbuds, scooted lower in her seat, and turned on Pandora. Her phone chimed and she saw it was a text from her mother’s nurse. The dosage of her dementia prescription had been increased. Not a good sign, also not unexpected. The weight in Calista’s heart grew. She wasn’t ready for the inevitable. She’d never be ready to lose the only person who’d ever been in her corner and who now remembered her once in every four visits.
An email came through from Julius’ company. She scrolled through the document and the nondisclosure agreement. She attached her electronic signature and hit send.
The attendant offered her a glass of wine. She preferred a bottle of water and a blanket. Sleeping was the only way to cross the Atlantic. Julius was on the phone, rattling off numbers and talking about some merger. She ignored him. She was versed in a lot of things, could hold a conversation on many topics, business wasn’t one of them. It was all mumbo jumbo.
Julius tossed his phone onto the desk. “Ms. Coleman. Please join me.”
Just when she was getting comfortable. She climbed out of her seat, caught Rhodes’ questioning stare, and crossed the cabin to take the seat opposite her boss.
“Check your email.”
He’d returned her employment contract signed.
“You’ll get a printed copy when we land.”
“Thanks.” Was that it?
“I’d hoped you’d spend some time with Meckler before assuming responsibilities. We know you’re not really my assistant, but the world needs to be fooled. However, I needed him in New York. This is a roundtrip. We’ll be back in Manhattan in less than twenty-four hours.” His breathing came heavily.
“Good.” She needed to visit Lakehurst for an update and to implement a strategy to bring her mother h
ome. If that were even possible now.
“You have something waiting for you when you return?” He watched her with that neutral stare she couldn’t read.
“My mother.”
“Are both your parents alive?”
She had a parent. Just one. Only one. “I never knew my father.” She answered the inevitable question with a half-lie. “My mother is in an assisted living facility.”
“They’re expensive,” he stately flatly.
“Very.” Just as flatly.
He started coughing and she couldn’t take it anymore. “You need to rest. I know there’s a bedroom back there.” She hissed low to keep the conversation between the two of them. Men and their precious egos. “Go lie down. Take the time to gather your strength for whatever you must do in London.”
Surprise. Surprise. He nodded, and said, “Can’t argue with that. But there’s more than one bed back there. Come. I’ll show you.”
She shouldn’t, not with four men watching them. The last thing she needed was for them to get the wrong idea. But, in the same breath, she wasn’t responsible for what anyone thought about her.
She followed him to the rear, past the galley and the stewardess preparing a meal, to a separate lounge area with a bed along the wall under the windows. A door led to the bedroom suite in the back.
His phone rang and he listened after swiping his thumb across the screen. Suddenly, his brow lowered, and thunder stormed over his arrogant features. “What do you mean he can’t meet with me?” Pause. “Are you serious?” Pause. “Fine.” He ended the call and his lips peeled back in a silent snarl.
“Problem?” she asked, more concerned than nosy. Maybe she could help.
That laser focus of his shifted to her. Another pause as his mind churned. She waited, uncertain if he would deflect or answer with the truth. “Change of plans,” he finally answered. “Instead of a meeting when we land, we’re going to a party.”
Chapter 14
Always the gentleman, Julius exited the Range Rover, then pivoted and held out his hand for her to join him. Not something she was used to as a bodyguard. Usually, Calista was in the front passenger seat and the first one out of the car, scanning for any threats, and only when no threats presented, did she open the rear door for the client.
She wasn’t the woman being helped out of the back seat. “Everything alright?” he questioned, buttoning his suit.
“You tell me,” she said low. His brow furrowed and he waited for her to continue. “How are you upright?”
His brow smoothed in understanding and he straightened his tie. “Pain killers.”
That didn’t sound good, but it was none of her business what he put in his body. Sunny and Rhodes joined them on the sidewalk while Edwards and Scotts parked the cars. They were in front of a hotel with a line of cars behind them waiting for their turn at valet parking. She hadn’t asked about the event Julius was attending or the attendees. It didn’t matter to her what they were going to, only that the place was safe. Quickly, she and the four bodyguards had gone over a plan. Sunny and Edwards didn’t appreciate the interference. In not so many words, she told them to get on board, or get the fuck off the train. This was her protection detail. She ran the show, head bitch in charge. A fat paycheck, private jets to world class destinations, they fell in line like she knew they would.
A subtle adjustment to the gun on her hip, a new purchase from an underground source and, “Yes,” she said, referring to his previous question. “Everything is fine. Let’s proceed.” Sunny took point with her and Rhodes bringing up the rear.
The quartet passed through the opulent lobby, heading to the ballroom. She’d been here before with a client a few years ago. The place had undergone renovations, but all the exits remained the same. All of this she processed within seconds as she stepped back and blended into the room. Never crowd a client. A bodyguard should only be seen when a threat is present. That was her theory, not shared by everyone in the industry. Plus, it was easy for her to blend into the society her clients frequented. She was a nobody. And nobody noticed a nobody.
“What are you doing?” Rhodes murmured at her shoulder.
She glanced at him and immediately returned her focus to her client. “What do you mean?”
“Mr. Morgan has four bodyguards. You’re not one of them.” He smirked.
Julius glanced over his shoulder at her and frowned.
“Personal assistant, remember?” Rhodes chuckled and nudged her forward with a light shove to her lower back that lingered a bit too long.
She shot him a look, but this wasn’t the place or the time to address his handsiness. “Pretend personal assistant,” she murmured, not wanting to go, didn’t want to step into the unknown. Quite happy in her chosen lane, she wanted to stay exactly where she was. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice.
She took that step and eased to Julius’ right side, only to be promptly ignored. She followed behind him like a lap dog and fucking hated it. Mind you, there wasn’t much difference between what she did before and what she was currently doing. However, as a bodyguard, small talk was background chatter filtered for keywords: Fire, bomb, knife, gun.
A waiter passed by with a tray of finger food. Her stomach grumbled. The last meal she’d partaken was on the plane six hours ago. The waiter walked past Calista in favor of the guest behind her. Not hard to figure out why when they were dressed similarly in black on black instead of the beautiful dresses, heels, and jewelry favored by the rest of the women attending the function.
“Calista.”
Julius’ voice ended her foraging for snacks. She stepped to his side for an introduction as his personal assistant and a request for her to get the gentleman’s information. With what? She didn’t bring pen and paper to jot down notes. Was this man important? Did she need to remember his name for future reference? Or contact later tonight? She had no idea.
Completely out of her element, she floundered, internally. Never let them see you sweat, she took that shit seriously. So, while she crashed and burned inside, outside she projected cool confidence.
“I’ll have my assistant get with yours.” The man signaled to a gentleman locked in a conversation a few feet away. The gentleman came over and held out his half-full glass of wine for her to take.
Except, she wasn’t a waiter.
Her gaze flipped from him to the glass and back again.
“Will you please do your job and take it, Jesus.” He shoved it in her chest, forcing her to take the glass or let it douse her breasts as it fell. She chose the former and caught the glass, still sloshing wine onto her suit and over her hand. Anger simmered. It would be too easy to let the glass drop and deliver a roundhouse to the bastard’s jaw.
Julius snatched the glass out of her hand and shoved it into the assistant’s chest, spilling the rest of the liquid on the assistant. “Apologize.” He loomed over the guy, full of aggression. She’d never seen him like this and had to say, she liked it.
The polite chatter in the room dropped to hushed whispers as everyone’s attention shifted. The power of invisibility she didn’t have. She had to stand there amidst the scrutiny and speculation while the assistant blubbered, clearly confused. “I-I apologize for asking her to do her job, though I don’t see how I was wrong—”
“She’s his assistant, you idiot!” His boss hissed and shooed him out of the way. “Please accept my apology, Julius.”
In the process of wiping her hands on a napkin Rhodes handed to her, Calista stiffened. Julius wasn’t the one soaked in white wine. Julius wasn’t the one insulted. But hey, this wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.
“Apologize to her.” Julius ordered, which seemed to fluster the man even more.
His already florid face turned splotchy. Jowls moving, he stumbled out, “My apologies. Please send me the bill for your clothing.”
Calista nodded, knowing she’d do no such thing. “Excuse me.” She needed the ladies’ room and time
to collect herself before someone got slapped. Eye contact with Rhodes confirmed he had security handled as she headed out of the ballroom.
Crossing the lobby, one look at her and people scattered out of her way. She pushed open the door hard enough for it to rebound, embarrassment replacing the fury. She marched straight into the disability access stall for a bit of privacy.
The damage wasn’t horrific. Thank God she had worn her usual black on black. While the wine had soaked through to her skin, the stain was nothing more than a wet spot. A few dabs with an absorbent towel and no one could tell she’d been doused. But that wasn’t what had her truly twisted.
She hated being the object of attention, especially unwanted attention. More than that, she hated that crowd. The privileged elite crowd who looked down on everyone else. Yet, she worked for them. Given her history it was laughable and ironic. After all, she was one of them, then again… She clearly was not.
She tossed the towel in the garbage and splashed some cold water on her face. The last thing she needed was a trip through memory lane. “Alright,” she said to her reflection. “Let’s do this.” She would go out there and do her job regardless of how her stomach churned. Personal assistant, she forced herself to remember. And she’d damn well do it better than that idiot.
With a final glance, she straightened her suit, and smoothed her hair. Prepared for anything, she exited the bathroom. A touch to her elbow brought her short. She jerked free and spun, ready to take a chunk out of the person who dared put their hands on her.
Julius stood near the ladies’ room, waiting for her. “Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here?” Filter gone, the words slipped out in a harsh rush.
“I couldn’t enter the ladies’ room, so I waited out here to make sure you were alright,” he gritted between clenched teeth.
How long had he been there? “It was wine, not blood,” she snapped.
He got in her face. “Stop being so damn hostile.”
Plain Jane and the Billionaire (Plain Jane Series) Page 9
