The Mogul and the Muscle - Claire Kingsley Page 0,10
parted slightly. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks that softened the angles of her face.
She was fucking gorgeous is what she was, but that wasn’t why I was here.
Her gaze shifted to me and a little groove formed between her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Jude Ellis.”
“Um…” Her eyes flicked up and down and she licked her lips. For a second, I could have sworn she was checking me out. But just as quickly, she was all business. She picked up her phone and swiped across the screen a few times. “Do we have an appointment? Because I don’t have you on my calendar. Maybe Brandy forgot, although that’s not like her.”
“I was told nine-thirty, but if you’re busy, you can just have someone show me around. Ideally, I’d like a schematic of the building and an org chart. Things seem fine in here for now, so if you could just point me in the right direction, I’ll familiarize myself with the terrain.”
She stared at me like she had no idea what I was talking about. Her green eyes were oddly mesmerizing. “You’ll what?”
“I need to know the layout of the building.”
“Who are you?”
Was she serious? “Jude Ellis.”
“Right, but who are you?”
Wait, had Derek set me up? That asshole. “I take it Derek didn’t tell you I was coming.”
“Derek? As in Derek Price?”
“The very same.”
The crease between her eyebrows deepened. “No, he didn’t. Why would Derek ask you to come here?”
My neck prickled again. Maybe it wasn’t danger I was sensing, but Derek’s bullshit. Although this wasn’t in character for him. He wasn’t exactly a prankster. Why would he have done this?
“That’s a great question. He said you needed security, but apparently he was screwing with me. Sorry to have wasted your time. I’m going to go rearrange his face now.”
I turned to go, annoyed that I’d ironed a shirt for this.
“Wait,” she said. “Derek told you I needed security?”
“Yeah. He said it was a favor for Emily.”
Cameron rolled her eyes and shook her head. “That sneaky bitch. Don’t move.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
She picked up her phone and tapped the screen a few times, then put it to her ear. “Don’t pretend you don’t know why I’m calling.” Pause. “Yes, he’s standing right here.” Another pause. “I already told you I don’t need a bodyguard.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but apparently whoever she was talking to—I assumed it was Emily—wasn’t letting her talk. Cameron’s lips parted again several times, like she was about to speak, but instead, she kept listening. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation.
Finally, Cameron pinched her lips closed and her nostrils flared. Those green eyes flashed. “We’ll talk about this later.”
She ended the call and set the phone back on her desk.
“Emily asked Derek to hire me behind your back,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, she did.”
There it was. My easy out. I didn’t want another gig. She didn’t want a bodyguard. I could tell her it had been nice to meet her, walk out that door, and never look back. Maybe go play golf.
Or go punch Derek in the teeth.
But something was wrong, and it was driving me absolutely crazy. The thought of leaving her here alone made my stomach twist into a knot. I wasn’t sensing danger in her office, or even in this building. I sensed it in her. She was in danger.
“Look, it sounds like Emily’s just concerned for your safety,” I said. “Didn’t someone attack you in the parking garage?”
She waved a hand. “It was random, and I was fine.”
Her voice was flippant, but if I had to guess, she didn’t fully believe that. Maybe she was trying to convince herself.
“Still, I could at least do a security evaluation for you.” Why are you still talking, Jude? You can leave. “Find the weak points. Give you, and your friends, some piece of mind.”
She lowered herself into her chair and motioned for me to sit. I took a seat across her desk from her.
“What are your qualifications?”
“Derek hired me.”
“What does that mean?”
I crossed an ankle over my knee. “It means you can either trust his judgment or not. I don’t exactly have a resume.”
“So what is it that you do? Bodyguard-for-hire?”
“Sometimes. Depends on what the client needs. But this will be my last job. I keep trying to retire.” I cleared my throat, not sure why I’d told her that last part.