She scoffed. “I’m fine. There’s no way you would have let me get shot.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “I’m worried about you.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her comment.
“The bullet was really close.”
“I’ve been shot before.”
She shook her head. “Something’s different, Bull. It rattled you and that never happens.”
“I’m not…rattled.”
She leaned closer to the screen. “I call bullshit. Pun intended.”
“Funny. I’ve never heard that one before,” he commented, loading his words with ample sarcasm. He leaned back and crossed his arms. That morning, he had sent out a message to his usual protection detail clients. Along with the notification that his services in that area were no longer available, he had offered a list of referrals for competent replacements. Building-plan reviews and security assessments were still offered, but nothing that would require him to travel excessively or put his life at risk. He had come close. Too damn close to losing a chance at the dream. The missed shot had been a sign he couldn’t—wouldn’t—ignore.
Over a decade of working together, she would eventually figure it out. She knew him well enough to—
“It’s because of Ben. Isn’t it?”
That didn’t take long. He shrugged, wondering if a career change at this point in his life was a smart move. He had accumulated plenty of money over the years, enough to never worry about the stability of his financial future. But the routine of everyday life would take some adjustment. The slower pace had been a battle after his time in service and the loneliness at home had made him restless. He welcomed a second chance to get it right, especially knowing he would have more time with Natalie at the shop and a chance to see where things led with Ben.
He fidgeted with his coffee mug. “You need to give me a selling price.”
“For?”
“The penthouse.”
“And why do I need to do that, Mr. del Toro?”
“It was my retainer for being on call for protection detail during your Miami visits, working with Anthony on establishing the security infrastructure for your company, and assessing new acquisitions. That was the deal.”
“But you’ll still be working remotely with Anthony on any necessary security protocol changes as well as taking steps to ensure I have a security detail in place for my Miami visits. And I know you’re always available when I need you. Nothing has changed.”
“But I won’t be protecting you.”
“Not directly, no. But you’re still watching over me. Just like you promised you would always do.” Her stare remained steady, mentioning a promise he made to her late husband on his death bed was pure emotional manipulation. And she knew it. “Do not challenge me, Mr. del Toro. You will not win.”
“It’s fair that I pay.”
“Consider it a gift. Merry Christmas.”
“It’s the end of February.”
“Then happy belated Valentine’s Day.”
He grabbed his mug and stood, giving Rachel a well-deserved glare before disappearing from the camera’s view. He walked across the living room and into the kitchen. He rinsed out his mug in the sink, taking far more time than needed. So many things flashed through his mind. Work, family, friends. His life, schedule, relationships. Every scenario of how things would change swirled in a vortex. This was a big step. Even though his work often had him traveling from one side of the globe to the other, he liked structure, routine, and always had a plan. He wasn’t a gambling man by nature, but he was all in for a chance with Ben. And he damn sure wasn’t going to let a bullet stop him.
“I know you can still hear me!”
“No, I can’t,” he yelled out, shaking his head when he heard her soft snicker. He dried his hands and returned to his seat.
“You’re a logical man,” Rachel said, barely giving him a chance to settle in again. “You’ve worked for me for years. Years, Bull. And while I know you also freelance with other clients, I’m well aware you’ve always given me priority.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I also know what your usual rate is, and it’s nowhere near what you charge me. So if you were to add up all those hours at your usual pay scale, I would likely owe you money after the sale of the penthouse. Consider it compensation for all the time you’ve spent working for me.”
He sighed. He opened his mouth to continue his argument but stopped the moment Rachel raised a polished fingernail.