Bodyguard to the Billionaire

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Bodyguard to the Billionaire Page 4

by Nana Malone


  “Uh, Toby.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So, you’re up here naked with cute Toby for a rush prank?"

  My sister shifted on her feet. "Um, not a prank exactly. It's more like private initiation."

  I blinked… twice. "You're being fucking hazed? You called me because you were being hazed?"

  "Well, to be fair, me getting locked up here wasn't part of the hazing. I was supposed to come all the way up here and christen the top of the tower. But uh, our clothes were blown off by the wind. And the door locked, and all I had was my phone, and—"

  I stared at her. I mean, what did I even say in this situation? "I don’t even know what to say to you."

  She tilted her chin up and met my gaze with fire like a rebellious teenager. "I’m an adult. I can have sex."

  “You think this is about you banging cute Toby? I could care less. What I care about is how irresponsible you are. You came up here with no plan. Anything could have happened. And newsflash, you lost your damn clothes. You have to think Deedee.”

  “I’m having fun, Zia. For the love of God, you remember fun, right?”

  “Nope. Because I’m too busy bailing your ass out.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest forgetting about her vajajay, giving me and cute Toby a show. “You’re not my mother.”

  “Yeah you like to remind me of that. But guess what, you certainly keep calling me to bail you out like I am. Get your shit.” I smacked my forehead. “Oh wait, you have no shit, because it blew away.” Seriously, how was she even my sister? Another thought occurred to me. "Where the hell is your car?"

  Toby spoke up. "Um, we called a car service, but then—"

  I rolled my eyes hard. "Toby, cover your pseudo man bits. Let’s go.”

  Deedee flushed. "This isn’t the worst that could have happened. Look—"

  I put a hand up. "Deedee, I don't know how many times I have to tell you this. I am not your damn get-out-of-jail-free card. At some point, you have to take responsibility for your life."

  "I am. And you are my get-out-of-jail-free card. I mean, I called you and you came."

  "I'm your sister. I'll come. But lord."

  "I'm sorry, okay?” She sounded far from sorry.

  "Which house is it?” I asked her.

  Her eyes went round. She knew what I was going to do. She shook her head. "No, I'm not telling you."

  I lifted a brow. "Are you shitting me right now?"

  "No. I'm not shitting you. I'm really not going to tell you."

  "Deedee Amelia Barnes—"

  She shook her head. "You don't get to mom me right now. I’ve got to protect my people. Besides, this was my mistake. Not theirs."

  'No, it’s my mistake, because I came to get you... again. Let’s go." I cast a glance over my shoulder at Toby. “You will not put your bare ass on my seats, you hear me? You will sit on a notebook or something.”

  He gave me a wide grin. That motherfucker wasn’t remorseful either. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Fuck my life. My sister was an idiot and this douche-twat just ma’amed me. Between these two and Gray Eyes with the bad attitude, my night ruination was complete. Why had I even come?

  Because as long as you're needed, you will always come. Also, you are a glutton for punishment who will always try to fix things.

  At some point, I was going to have to stop bailing her out, or it was going to cost me.

  Five

  Theo…

  My phone buzzed and I dove for it. I’d left what I hoped was a non-alarmist message for my mother to call me after the debacle last night.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  “Theo, of course I'm okay. Just a little cancer. Why? What's wrong?”

  For the first time since I'd stepped out of that ballroom, I could breathe properly. Her characteristic sharp wit was intact. "Nothing. I just, I don't know, I was thinking about you.” I took a deep breath and all the tension from last night ebbed through my body.

  “I could tell you were anxious from your message. Is there something I need to know? Did Kyle get you into some kind of trouble? Are you calling from a sex dungeon? If you are, I’d encourage you to have fun dear."

  I coughed a laugh. “Mom. Jesus.” The last thing I wanted was for her to worry. She should be focused on getting better, not on potential danger. Besides she was safe for now. If things got out of hand, I’d go home. Screw the money.

  Even though you need it?

  “How's the job?” I could tell by her tone the question was serious. Sometimes it was hard to tell with her.

  I swallowed hard. All she knew was that I’d been offered a contract position in the Winston Isles. Of course, I hadn’t told her anything about it. After all, what would I say?

  “It's fine. Listen, you're good with Aunt Lydia?”

  "Besides her daily attempts to poison me with kale and barley and her refusal to give me rum? Fine. We're having fun. If gardening can be considered fun. I tried to get her to take me to the male review in Vegas, but she said no. Instead she's just clucking over me like a mother hen. Maybe you can help convince her naked man flesh would improve my spirits and chances of healing.”

  My chuckle started low in my gut before slowly erupting. “Mom, you’re still impossible.”

  “Better believe it. I’m not dead yet. But any day now so let me have my fun.”

  I shook my head. “Stop saying that.” There was more bite to my words than was necessary. I knew she used the humor and snark to mask her worry, but still.

  She sighed. “Sorry, handsome, I will eventually go. But I’m too ornery to go just yet. I need to torture you and your aunt a little more first. You want to tell me what has your knickers in a twist?”

  “It’s all good. I’m fine. I was just checking in.”

  “Bullshit. You think I don’t know my own son? What gives? Kyle set you up with male strippers again?”

  I chuckled. For all her laughing, I knew she worried. When I left Base Software, she hadn’t said a word, just told me to do what was best. But I knew she thought I was screwing up my life.

  I was on my way to being the youngest Vice President in the history of Base Software. But I’d done what I thought was best and walked out because they screwed over my friend.

  There wasn't a day I looked back on that and thought it was the wrong move. When they stole Kyle's patent, I couldn't stay. I couldn't be a part of that. But there were moments like last night when I did wonder how simple my life would have been if I hadn't walked away.

  It wouldn't be simple. How would you sleep?

  Kyle and I had known each other since diapers. He'd lived in the same apartment building I had. Just down the hall. Our mothers used to take us to the park at the same time every day, and when we were at home we’d run up and down the halls knocking on each other’s doors to play. And then it was school and all of those things. I finally rented my mother a house when I was in college. I'd gotten a scholarship to NYU, and so did Kyle. He'd been part of a major engineering project we'd done. We won. Working together as always, the two of us couldn't fail.

  Are you sure about that?

  Anyway, with the scholarship, I'd been able to work while I went to school, and all the money I'd made working, I sent to her. Which got her out of the apartment in Jersey City and into a cute craftsman.

  She insisted that she had a nest egg. That my absent father wanted me to have it. She wanted me to take it. I wanted nothing from that man. He’d never called, never sent birthday cards nothing. So, he could feel free to fuck himself.

  "Look it's all good. I was just thinking about you last night and wanted to check on you.”

  "Sometimes, it’s like you're the mother."

  "It's a valid question." More quietly, I asked, “You okay?”

  "Some days are better than others, but today, today's good. Matter of fact, I'm having a smoothie right now."

  "Good. You keep getting better. I’ll be home soon.”

  “Uh-huh. While yo
u’re there, try and work on the dating thing, would you?”

  And time to go. “Love you, Mom. Bye.”

  When I hung up with her, I ran my hands down my face. Jesus Christ, what the hell was I supposed to do? I could try and fool myself that everything was going to be cool but it wasn't. Last night was a prime example.

  I broke rule number two. Or rather the sexy-ass brunette had broken it for me.

  Rule #2: Draw zero attention.

  How did that work out for you?

  His Royal fucking Majesty had seen me. Thanks to little Miss Hell on Wheels and her interference, I didn’t have a choice. I was getting a goddamn bodyguard whether I wanted one or not.

  Theo…

  The Royal Elite offices weren't exactly what I had imagined. Or maybe they were. What the hell did I know? I’d never needed a bodyguard. I’d always been a menace, not the one who needed protection from menaces.

  Well, this is what you get for signing on the dotted line without having all the information.

  On the outside, the building looked like a modern art gallery, all glass and stone and steel. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the exterior, but I couldn't actually see inside. It was some kind of mirroring effect, possibly. Slick.

  The car deposited me at the massive glass doors, and even though I reached for the door myself, the driver somehow beat me to it. "Is there any point during this adventure where you're actually going to let me open my own door, Tim?"

  "Sorry, sir. I know you like to do it yourself, but I can't help it. It's how I've been trained."

  "Fair enough," I mumbled. I had to get used to this shit.

  I marched up to the front doors, and my phone buzzed. I glanced down at it and saw that Kyle was begging for an update. If at all possible, he was more interested in this whole game of charades than I was. He was the one who’d pushed me to say yes to this job. He was the one who’d insisted the PhilanthroApp could be worked on from anywhere. In the end I was glad he was here, but the last thing I needed was the added pressure. With any luck, I’d get someone I could add to my security detail and be done with it.

  I wished to Christ Kyle was the one who looked like a billionaire. The stress was starting to eat at me, and there was still no word from Arlington. Where the fuck was he? And why couldn't I just get through this whole scenario unnoticed and unscathed? Nope, every time I turned around, there was always something else fucking up the whole situation.

  Eyes on the prize. Pretend. You’re good at that. Be what they need you to be, and everything will be fine. I could do that. I could play the part.

  When I stepped inside, the stunning red head from the other night came forward with a smile. "Lord Arlington. It’s nice to see you again."

  I took her warm, delicate hand. She might have been slender and petite, but her handshake was firm and strong. And her gaze was direct and clear. "You can drop the title. Derrick is fine."

  Her brows shot up. "Okay. If you insist, Derrick." Her lips tipped into a smirk. “Pardon me for saying so, but you’re different than I was told.”

  “Oh yeah?” Just what I needed, Arlington’s reputation to precede me. “You heard I was a prick?”

  Her grin flashed. “Something like that.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll let you be the judge.” I tried to remember everything about her from the dossier I’d been given. She and the people who worked for her also worked for the king. They were appointed by Sebastian himself, so if anything went down with the king or his family, they were the ones called.

  The research Kyle and I had done indicated they also took care of civilians. To be able to book them, you just needed money. Lots and lots of money. And thanks to my expense account, I had that in spades.

  "This way. I'll get you set up. Are you feeling okay? I'm sorry, I could only assign one guard last night. It's been a bit busy. With all the dignitaries in town for the wedding, we were slightly short-staffed. But you have our undivided attention now."

  Hey, if they were busy, I was more than happy to go home and forget this whole bodyguard thing. Derrick hadn’t given me a damn playbook for what to do in case of attempted kidnapping. But something told me doing some shit that would get me scrutinized was not at the top of the list. "Look, Ariel, I'm sure this is a—"

  She held up a hand and led me to the conference room. "Look, I get the impression you're about to tell me this is unnecessary and that you don't need a guard, but let me tell you, I've heard it all before. For whatever reason, you want your privacy and all that. Am I correct?"

  She was clairvoyant. "Something like that."

  "This is the part where I tell you the king requested this. You know how Sebastian can get. He's very protective of the family, so if something happened at the wedding, then it's our job to make sure it doesn't happen again. Not to mention finding out who made the attempt and making sure they are properly dealt with. Like it or not you’re a royal. It makes you a target."

  "As I told the, err, Sebastian, I don't really know what happened. A guy approached me, pressed something in my back, and told me it was a gun and he wanted me to get in the car. I've been given enough anti-kidnap training to know never to get in the car." That much was true. I left out the part with the brunette. I left out the part where my attempted kidnapper knew my name. My real name.

  When in doubt, lie.

  Ariel raised a brow. "And you have no idea why someone wanted to kidnap you from the wedding?"

  Lie. "None."

  Her gaze narrowed. "News of the Inline Tech takeover is all over. Could this be related?"

  My instinct said no. This shit felt personal. But again, I couldn’t be forthcoming. "My business interests often draw unwanted attention.”

  "You don't need to worry, Derrick. We’re very discreet. It's my duty to protect you. Sebastian made it really clear that he wants nothing that can tarnish the name of the royal family. We've had some bumps and bruises in the last few years, so discretion is important for the family as well."

  "Right. Great. So, we all want discretion. Can't we just agree this is unnecessary?"

  Ariel laughed and shook her head. "I don't know what it is with you Winston men, or in your case, Arlington men. How are you guys cousins again?"

  I knew the answer to this one, thankfully. "Through the queen mother. She and my father are half-siblings."

  "Ah, okay. For starters I’ll need an employee list as well as anyone who has been let go or fired in the last eighteen months. I’ll also need security access codes for the house and office." She cleared her throat. “If you, uh, have anyone who frequents your home who is not a member of staff, I need that information, too. I don’t give two shits about legality and privacy. I only care about your safety.”

  I frowned, not understanding for a moment. But then I remembered the article I’d seen in the news about Derrick Arlington having been drunk out of his mind with three escorts. "I’ll get you what you need."

  “Can you think of anyone holding a grudge?”

  "Any enemies of mine would more than likely be enemies of my father. They see the blood in the water, maybe. I’ve only just stepped into his shoes. I haven't had time to make any business enemies yet."

  "Give it time. Every day people carry around these insane blood feuds. They get passed down from generation to generation. Full on Capulets and Montagues."

  "Well, there's no Romeo and Juliet here. I'm sure you're very straightforward and will probably not take that along to solve this thing. I have a company merger coming up, and I need to make sure it stays on track."

  "I understand. Don't worry. All of our agents are trained in undercover work. They'll be discreet and embedded into your life seamlessly. It's our specialty. We’ll do two-man shift rotations with one being your personal guard. One will live with you and act as your last line of defense. The others will be posted nearby in your building. Both home and work.”

  "Even off duty?"

  She nodded. "We have worked out several options for your u
ndercover person, however you want to play it. We can get you a new personal assistant, although that makes it tricky for in-home coverage. Does your staff live on the premises or off?"

  I ground my teeth. I could kill Derrick for this one. "On."

  She shrugged. "Okay, it's fine. That eliminates our options of having one at home and one at work as an assistant, or chef, or something, but we'll figure out a workable scenario."

  I glanced at the folder. "What's your least invasive suggestion?"

  She nodded, appreciating that I got to the point. "That would be to assign you a guard as your girlfriend. It’s even better if she’s your assistant and girlfriend. It'll make sense as to why she goes home with you and why she's in the office. If you prefer a male guard, we can assign one. Trace Lawson is available for that detail."

  I preferred no guard at all. “You choose.”

  "Fair enough. We’ll make this painless. Let me bring in the person who will be running point for you." She pressed a button on the desk phone. “Zia, please join us.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  My blood heated, and my brain conjured up an image of the mouthy brunette from the reception. She was a sassy little thing, determined to harangue my assailant into submission. She wasn't half bad in terms of self-defense.

  Small problem, I wanted her. What were the odds this was the same woman?

  I pushed to my feet. "Let's get this over with."

  Ariel flashed me a grin. "Don't sound so excited. People on my team are the best. They'll take good care of you until the threat is neutralized, and then you can go back to your life."

  "The sooner we get this over with, the better." The last thing I wanted was anyone looking too closely into my life.

  Zia…

  Hours of actual sleep: 3.

  Hours of attempted sleep, interrupted by tossing-turning dreams of the gray eyed stranger: 4.

  Cranky mode: 10.

  It was going to be a hell of a day.

 

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