Dropping The Ball - A New Year’s Billionaire Romance - Weston Parker Page 0,16

heard me explaining who I was to the receptionist at the security company, his gaze trailing back over our shoulders. I knew he was wondering what’d happened with Nathan to have prompted my behavior, but it also made me feel better knowing he was checking to make sure we weren’t being followed.

A pleasant-sounding man named Bart came onto the line. I introduced myself before getting right to the point. “I know we initially asked for someone to start next week, but if it’s possible at all, I’d like to move up the timeline.”

“We can do that. Come in tomorrow. We’ve got the perfect guy for you.”

I exhaled a relieved sigh. I’d been worried they wouldn’t have anyone available on such short notice, but Bart didn’t skip a beat. The change of plans didn’t sound like it affected him at all.

I hung up the phone after agreeing to a meeting at their offices less than twenty-four hours from now.

I looked up at Jules. “Something is going on with Nathan. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know why, but we need to beef up security until we figure it out.”

“Good call.” He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his side. “I don’t know what it is about you that brings out the crazy in people, but do you think you could dial it back for me?”

Despite the tension of the situation, his attempt to lighten the mood brought a smile to my face. Somehow, he always seemed to know exactly what to do and say to make everything seem just a little better and brighter. Even random threats from a guy I didn’t even really know.

“I’ll do my best, but only because you asked so nicely,” I said when we climbed into his car.

The tiny hairs at the back of my neck stood up, and I got that feeling that we were being watched, but when I looked around, there was nobody there.

I wasn’t generally a paranoid person, but Nathan had scared me. It’s a good thing they’ve got a guard available immediately. I have a feeling I’m going to need one if I’m going to keep doing stuff like sleeping.

Chapter 7

CARTER

Something bad had happened. I didn’t know what yet, but I intended on finding out. As soon as Bart had called me to tell me Rylee had requested someone to start sooner, I’d known something was up.

A part of me had wanted to race right over to her house to make sure she was okay, but I hadn’t followed through because I didn’t know where she lived—a small problem when wanting to go right over—and it also probably would’ve freaked her out. No, not probably. Definitely.

All morning, I’d been on edge while waiting for the time of our meeting to finally arrive. I was worried about the sudden schedule change, but I was also more than curious to see how she would react when she saw who I was.

I walked into the conference room at our offices five minutes early, and Rylee was already there. I slammed to a stop when I realized it, taking in every inch of her with just one deliberate sweep of my gaze over her body.

The first thing I noticed was that she looked physically fine. She didn’t appear to have any injuries, nor was she displaying any of the obvious signs of discomfort that might hint at something hidden beneath her clothes.

Relief coursed through me like a living thing that had taken up residence in my veins. She’s not hurt. Thank fuck.

Throughout a relatively sleepless night, I’d envisioned a few scenarios in which she’d been attacked by one of those psychos who’d threatened her. The mere thought of someone hurting her had been enough to make my blood boil, and an alarmingly intense desire to exact vengeance on her behalf spread through me.

The images my brain had so helpfully conjured up somewhere between two and four this morning had plagued me, and it was only now that I was seeing with my own eyes that she was uninjured that I managed to relax.

The other thing I noticed immediately was that she was even more beautiful up close than she had been when I’d seen her in the grocery store. The Rylee I remembered from childhood was gorgeous, but the woman sitting in front of me now was stunning. There was no other way to describe her.

Except maybe as an extremely fuckable version of Snow White. Dark auburn hair, bluest