“You don’t, you just go with it. Keep him out of danger the best you can, and if you feel threatened you act on that threat.”
“When did you get so smart?” I grin at her.
“I’ve always been smart,” she laughs.
“How’s Uncle George doing with his newest interest?”
Uncle George is a retired doctor. He’s gone through many new interests to keep him busy. First it was painting, which he failed epically at. Then came the cooking classes—Uncle George burns toast. Now he’s trying his hand at carving.
Aunt Bett snorts.
“He carved an alligator. It looks like a run-over snake.”
I laugh loudly. “Poor Uncle George, he’ll find his talent eventually.”
“Oh,” she says, standing. “He has a talent, love. It’s called sleeping, passing gas and annoying the ever-living shit out of me.”
I burst out laughing and stand too, following her inside.
“Have you seen Jed lately?”
“He came by with Mitch this afternoon,” she says, washing up our cups. Then she turns and hugs me again. “I’ve had visits with all my favorites today, I can sleep a happy woman.”
I squeeze her tight. “I’ll call you, Aunt Bett.”
“You make sure you do.”
She pats my shoulder and then heads out, shutting my door behind her. I walk over and lock it, then I flick out the living area lights and head to my bathroom. Once I’m showered and ready for bed, I slide beneath my covers, figuring I had better get some good rest tonight, because I don’t know how much I’ll get tomorrow.
I’m just about to flick my lamp off, when my phone buzzes with a text message. I groan and reach over, taking it off the bedside table. It’s Kyle.
Kyle—Are you ready for tomorrow? Have you done your homework?
Of course I’m ready. What does he think I’m doing? Having a party?
Delaney—Of course I have. I’m not stupid.
Kyle—I never said you were, I’m your supervisor, I’m just checking.
Delaney—You’re assisting, Nak never said the word supervisor. Stop talking yourself up. You’ll get a big head.
Kyle—Too late for that. Be at my place by seven.
Delaney—Why your place? Why can’t you come here?
Kyle—My place is closer to where Jaxson works.
Of course it is. He probably paced it out just to make sure.
Delaney—Fine, I’m going to sleep.
Kyle—Sweet dreams, princess.
Jerk.
I shove my phone back on the bedside table and roll to my side, sighing and closing my eyes.
Tomorrow all my efforts either pay off or shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.
* * *
Holy hell.
Jaxson Shields works from his main Elite hotel, and it’s massive. I’ve never seen it, because I don’t often come to the nicer side of Denver, but this … this is huge. I’m talking thirty floors, at least, and so flash it makes its competitors look, well, pathetic. The outside has stunning, big stone arches on the bottom floor, slowly narrowing up to a point at the top. It’s kind of like a tower, only the most magnificent tower I’ve ever seen.
Kyle and I walk through the front doors, and are immediately greeted by staff wanting to help us. They are incredibly friendly, and lead us to the golden, shiny reception desk. Six ladies are behind that desk, on phones, talking to customers and smiling. One stops and looks to us. “Welcome, how may I be of assistance this morning?”
I blink.
Kyle answers.
“We’re here for Mr. Shields. We’re his new security.”
She studies us, me mostly, and then nods and picks up the phone. We both take a seat while we wait. I shift uncomfortably in my long black pants. I’m not used to looking so … professional. I still haven’t gotten comfortable in our uniform, but Kyle assures me the more I wear it, the sooner I will.
It consists of black pants and a short-sleeved black polo top with the company logo right over my left breast. The top is tight fitting, and I’ve spent my entire morning squirming, trying to ease it up. We’re fitted with radios, a handgun—which we had full training for before we could use it—a Taser and for me, pepper spray. Whatever, I chose to take it. I have a little earpiece that connects me to Kyle, and a small speaker attached to my shirt.
“Mr. Shields will see you now, allow me to escort you.”
We both look up to see a young man in a black suit smiling down at us. Standing, I run my hand over my neat hair that’s pulled back in a ponytail, to make sure I look respectable. Kyle pushes to his feet, his face stoic. Then we follow the man towards the lift. My heart is pounding by the time we step inside. God, I hope I don’t screw this up.
It seems like it takes us long minutes to get to the top floor of the building, when really it probably took less than thirty seconds. The elevator dings open and we all step out into a long hall. The man leads us to the door right at the end of the hall, that has the number 532 on it. God, are there five hundred rooms in this hotel? I know this is considered one of his smaller buildings. I wonder how big his other ones are.
The man knocks on the door and a moment later, a gruff voice calls out, “Yeah, come in.”
He pushes the door open, and Kyle steps in front of me and goes in first. Gritting my teeth, I step into the massive space behind him. I stop dead in my tracks and my mouth falls open. The room is ginormous. No, seriously, it must take up half a damned floor. The first thing I see is the massive desk in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, and at that desk sits Jax Shields.
To the left of his gigantic desk is a door that leads into a room. A proper bedroom, with an elegant bed, a sofa and a little dining area. I have no idea if that room continues on, but my first thought is man, this dude seriously works too much if his office and bedroom are in the same place. To the right, I glimpse a massive bathroom. Yep, fully fitted out to live in at all times.
Poor guy clearly has no life.
In this main living area, there are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on the front wall, which is interesting. Jaxson Shields doesn’t seem like the type to read, however the shelves are packed. Those might come in handy in the hours where boredom takes me over. My eyes go back to the desk, where Jax is sitting, and my heart skips a beat.
Today he’s wearing a suit similar to the one that he was wearing when I met him, only this time the shirt beneath it is dark blue, giving him an even more rugged edge. My eyes travel over his face, over those grey eyes, and settle on his lips. God he’s good looking. I shake my head, snapping myself out of it. I can hardly be an effective bodyguard if I’m ogling him instead of doing my job.
“That’s all, Ken,” Jax says and the man who led us up here nods and leaves the room.
Kyle steps forward, professional as ever, back straight and face blank. “If you wouldn’t mind allowing us to take a few minutes to go over your weekly schedules, that would be appreciated. We want to make sure we have planned security ahead of time.”
Jax studies him, then his eyes finally move to me and his jaw goes tight. I know he isn’t happy with having me on the job, but he’s obviously worried enough that he’s given himself no choice.
“Are you going to be with her at all times?” Jax asks, nodding at me.