The Protector

by Cristin Harber

  The television reporter took a surprised step back. Jane cringed inwardly. Her pocked and flaking skin had made the woman recoil. That was exactly the ego boost she needed.

  The video camera lens extended and zoomed in on Jane, shedding snake, and Teddy with practiced but still heart-melting smile.

  Lark, Gigi’s publicist, stepped around from the group and caught Teddy’s attention. She pulled her finger over her upturned lips, signaling their smiles should be bigger.

  Gigi held her hand out. “Jane is our wonderful nanny, and this is my dear child, Teddy.”

  “Hello,” Jane managed.

  Gigi faced the reporter. “As I mentioned.” Her low voice took a somber, practiced tone of sympathy and compassion. “Jane’s blisters and burned patches are an unfortunate result from our trip.”

  Burned patches? Jane would’ve flinched at the description but indignation had hold of her backbone. She wouldn’t cower, but hell if she didn’t want to offer a nicer-sounding description such as third-degree sunburn.

  “Her injuries occurred as we raised awareness about women and children with nowhere else to go but refugee camps,” Gigi continued.

  Not exactly. Jane repositioned Teddy, waiting until they were no longer on display before allowing her aggravation to show.

  “Her blisters may scar. Her complexion will never be the same.” Gigi grimaced sympathetically, covering her hand to her heart. The sun glinted off her ring set with a diamond the size of a marble. “But when you look at Jane, you can see the vicious suffering that others face without our help.”

  And with that cheerful description, Jane was done. “Off to piano, or we’ll be late.”

  That was how Gigi saw her? A wonderful nanny who was the living, breathing illustration of mass casualty suffering. Angry tears burned the back of her throat.

  The group mumbled as Jane hurried away.

  “Jane.” The click-clack of designer heels hastily followed. “Jane?”

  If only Jane could teleport to piano lessons. She turned and set Teddy down. “Run to the bathroom before your lesson. Okay?”

  He agreed and ran off before Gigi came within arm’s reach. Jane wasn’t sure what Gigi might say. Maybe she realized her word choice had been cruel. Perhaps she wanted to tell Jane that she was appreciated. Jane didn’t count on it, but hope springs eternal. “Yes?”

  Gigi gestured the direction they had come. “They’re filming a special quick-to-air mini-documentary.”

  Not an apology. Jane wasn’t surprised. “Sounds wonderful.”

  “Everyone in the world wants to know how we’re doing—you know, after the incident.”

  “Got it.”

  “Isn’t it absolutely thrilling? Almost as if we have our own reality television show, without any of the tacky PR-whore conventions. It’s all about us!”

  Just like everything else. “Sounds exciting.”

  Gigi beamed. “If the ratings are good, there’s no holding us back. We’d be household names.” She leaned closer to Jane. “That’s something money can’t buy.”

  Speechless, Jane rolled her lips together.

  “It’s so close I can almost feel it.”

  Jane didn’t know what to say. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I need to check on piano practice.”

  “Oh, of course!” Gigi said theatrically, stars in her eyes. “Oh, I forgot. Dax is in the piano room, being interviewed by Entertainment Tonight. Why don’t you see if you can get the piano instructor to teach on the Steinway in my sitting room? And I have some people inside, updating the décor. Make sure Teddy doesn’t get in their way.” Then, with a wrist flick, Gigi dismissed Jane.

  “Household names,” Jane muttered as she quietly slipped inside the house and found Teddy’s piano teacher alone.

  Jane took the teacher into the west wing, depositing her in Gigi’s sitting room and then searched for Teddy. He wasn’t where she expected him, and Jane returned to the east wing, where his bedroom was located. There she found him. He sat on the floor of a hallway bathroom, crying.

  “Teddy.” Jane crouched in front of him. Had Dax yelled at him for interrupting the interview? Was he still worried about the lapse in piano practice? Teddy made no secret of the fact that he didn’t enjoy piano, along with just about everything his parents made him do. “What’s wrong?”

  The sound of wood splintering penetrated through the wall followed by a harsh, “be careful.” Jane turned toward the noise as though the wallpaper could explain what was happening.

  Teddy pointed toward the wall also. The bathroom backed to his bedroom, and her stomach dropped. Jane inched into the hallway but saw nothing to account for the sounds. Teddy’s bedroom was bigger than the house Jane had grown up in, and Gigi kept it fashionably decorated. In Jane’s opinion, Teddy’s room looked more like an adult bedroom. But even if it were painted in primary colors with fun wall posters, his room still missed little touches that made a child’s bedroom unmistakably theirs. Like, toys.

  But toys were in the playroom only. That strictly enforced rule from his mother kept their house picture-perfect.

  Warily, Jane left Teddy and walked to his bedroom door. She held her breath and said a little prayer before opening it.

  Three men were dismantling the furniture. Any sign of Teddy had been boxed up. She moved into the doorway. “Um, hello?”

  “We know,” the man closest to the door said. “Keep it down.”

  “No, I mean…” The framed prints had been removed. The curtains were gone. “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like, lady?” he said, unfastening a bolt from the bed. “Time for another round of renovations.”

  The home décor update that Teddy was supposed to stay away from was for his bedroom. Dang it. Teddy just got used to the new design. She shook her head as she walked back to the bathroom.

  Teddy looked as if his whole world were ending.

  “I’m sorry, honey. But I bet—”

  Tears slid down his cheeks. “They threw away Bun Bun!”

  Bun Bun was his very special stuffed animal. It was the only thing he’d been allowed to keep from the moment he was born. Every night, he clung to it as he fell asleep. Sometimes he didn’t let go until after breakfast. “Isn’t Bun Bun at my place?” Though she didn’t remember seeing Bun Bun next to the crayons and paper.

  “No.”

  She balked at the impossibility of purposefully throwing his toy away. “I’m sure they just moved him. I’ll go check.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Janie.” He buried his tear-stained face against his knees.

  Jane rushed back into the boy’s bedroom. She poked around, nothing. “Did you see a turquoise bunny? Like a stuffed animal?”

  “That’s all gone.”

  She stepped past them, looking where Bun Bun should’ve been and then in a trash can. “What do you mean all gone?”

  The man closest to the door shrugged. “First thing on the list, remove personal touches.”

  “And do what with them?” Teddy kept his personal touches in the playroom or her cottage. The only thing in his room that didn’t come from a designer was his Bun Bun.

  The man shrugged as though Jane needed to take her argument elsewhere. She gritted her teeth. This, apparently, was where she drew the line. She would not let his parents destroy Bun Bun.

  The Thanes had their trash receptacle area hidden on a wooded side of their property. Everything disposed of from the house, from kitchen scraps to donations, passed through there, and she guessed that’s where Bun Bun would have gone.

  Jane stormed from the bedroom, swept him into her arms, and spoke with forced cheer. “While you’re at piano, I’ll go and get Bun Bun back. Okay?”

  His eyes filled with tears again. “B-But I want to go with you!”

  She should’ve expected that. Jane decided he’d earned the right to save his stuffed animal. “All right. You can miss your piano lesson today.” Jane would hear it from Gigi, if Gigi ever peeked
out from her bubble and found out, which was a big if. At least, Jane would spare the precious Steinway. “Let me tell your teacher, and we’ll go look. Okay?”

  He nodded, and a small smile broke on his face amid the tears.

  As she led the piano instructor downstairs, Dax was still pontificating about himself and his wonderfulness. They said goodbye to his teacher. A reporter Jane recognized flagged her over. She groaned that the reporter had been let inside the gated community, but the guardhouse let Lark and the Thanes call the shots.

  “Jane!”

  “Nothing to say.” And they had a stuffed animal to save.

  “What do you say about the rumors?” the reporter called from the sidewalk.

  “Rumors are a dime a dozen,” Jane muttered, backing them away so that the piano teacher could back out the driveway.

  “You don’t care about problems between Dax and Gigi?”

  Jane stopped and glanced at the reporter holding his phone out to catch her comments and then pointedly to Teddy. “Do you mind?”

  Thankfully oblivious, Teddy pulled on her hand.

  If his parents had problems with their relationship, Gigi and Dax wouldn’t be on television, constantly exposing their family, home, and habits. Unless… her stomach turned. Well, honestly, she wouldn’t put a stunt like that past them if it meant a few new headlines.

  Together, she and Teddy walked away. Her curiosity grew. Once they were out of the reporter’s sight, she let him run ahead. Jane took out her phone and scanned the gossip pages. Sure enough, several gossip websites had various theories.

  Jane scanned the articles and comments, and no one offered anything specific but mentioned rumors of upcoming television appearances.

  “Janie!”

  Sighing, she pocketed her phone and lifted her gaze to Teddy. “Coming.”

  After walking the perimeter of the expansive property, they stopped at the wrought-iron gate that protected the trash from reporters and dumpster divers who wanted to sell Dax’s half-eaten apple on eBay. Trash receptacle was just a pretty name for a dumpster. She could smell it. Ugh.

  “Are you sure Bun Bun’s in there?” Teddy asked hesitantly.

  “I think so. He’s on a wild adventure.” She squeezed Teddy’s hand.

  “You’re going to get him for me?”

  She laughed. “Yup, and I hope you still love me when I smell like garbage.”

  He giggled. “I’ll always love you, Janie.”

  And that was why she adored him so much, why she would risk a thousand smelly dumpsters for him. No one in her life had ever loved her unconditionally. She ruffled his hair and took a deep breath, and prepared to go dumpster diving.

  After searching through all sorts of grossness while Teddy looked on, Jane finally emerged victorious, holding the blue bunny above the rim of the dumpster to Teddy’s wild applause.

  She climbed out and presented it to him. He hugged the dirty bunny and then hugged her, even though she was, in a word, disgusting.

  “Thank you, Janie.”

  All in a day’s work.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The last week had been unbearably slow. Outside of PT and one mandatory safety briefing entitled How to change a lightbulb like you’re not buffoons intentionally trying my patience, led by Mr. Personality, Jared Westin, king of all and everything, as he called himself during the training, Chance realized he needed an assignment like he needed air to breathe.

  Maybe today would be the day. He checked his wristwatch then took the stairs to the first-floor lobby. Chance nodded to a few familiar faces of the construction crew and walked behind the reception desk. He wound down the office hall and stopped outside the war room. A bright yellow, half-crumpled piece of paper lay on the floor. Chance picked it up and grinned.

  WARNING

  Behind These Doors Are Men

  Highly Trained in Weapons That Go…

  Ping, Ping

  Pew, Pew

  Kaboom

  Unable to hide his laugh, he smoothed the warning sign against the wall and made sure the tape stuck before he opened the door. Everyone on the team already sat around the conference table. They’d stopped talking and looked at him as though he was late.

  “Hey,” he muttered, sneaking a glance at his watch. Right on time. “Did I miss something?”

  Jared pushed from the head of the table and cracked his knuckles. “You make that sign?”

  Chance tried his best not to laugh. Who the hell was the sign grand master? “Roger that. It was me.”

  He growled. “Take a seat.”

  Chance pulled back an open chair. “I didn’t realize we were starting early.”

  “We did,” Jared grumbled. “You didn’t.”

  Puzzled, he wanted to question why, but at the same time, he noticed Liam. “Hey, man.” They shook over the table. “When did you get in?”

  “Last night.”

  Westin cleared his throat. “If you two are finished gabbing.”

  Chance lifted his hands apologetically. He didn’t want to aggravate Boss Man before his first gallon of coffee.

  “We were talking about the Thanes,” Jared continued.

  Chance’s stomach sank like a rock. “My favorite people. What about them?” He glanced around the room and couldn’t get a read on anyone’s expressions. “That good, huh?”

  Jared grumbled.

  “What?” Chance shifted uncomfortably. “Dax is suing us? The photographer didn’t capture his best side when we hauled his screaming ass into the helo?”

  No one laughed. His stomach bottomed out again. “Did someone—” Jane “—get hurt?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Jared pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head with a sigh that sounded like he already had a headache. “They want to hire additional security to their personal team.”

  Chance didn’t see why that would cause a headache. Ace’s parent company, Titan Group, was based in Virginia and handled jobs like that. Still, no one made a peep. He was missing something. “All right. So, what am I missing?”

  “They want you on a temporary security detail.”

  Chance sat back in his seat. His forehead furrowed. It’d be an opportunity to see Jane—should that make him say yes or run like hell? He couldn’t stand the Thanes. That would be an immediate problem. Not to mention, Chance didn’t like monotonous wait-and-see of a security position. He’d tried his hand alongside Liam before they’d joined Aces. While he would gladly do it again for a buddy, Chance wouldn’t consider it for the Thanes. Except… that he’d see Jane.

  “The thing is,” Jared interrupted his thoughts. “Gigi Thane specifically requested you.”

  “Me?” Chance rubbed the back of his neck. “Why?”

  “She wouldn’t say.” The room stayed quiet while Jared paused. “If they hadn’t received new threats, then I’d be a hell of a lot more likely to ignore her request and pass the job along.”

  “There are new threats?” he asked.

  “Apparently. Something about privacy invasions and reporters treading too close to the family.” Jared’s lips thinned. “I’d call them concerns. Either way, she asked for you.”

  With everyone watching him, Chance couldn’t stop thinking about the opportunity to see Jane again. And, the more he thought about her, the more he realized he couldn’t—or at least, shouldn’t—see her again. Were his teammates thinking the same thing? Chance glanced around the room. “That’s why you met without me?”

  “I wanted to know their opinions,” Jared said.

  Chance swallowed hard. “About?”

  “Whether or not this job would fuck you up.”

  “I’m not going to fuck up—”

  “I asked if the job would fuck you up or not,” Jared clarified.

  His eyebrows arched, and while he trusted his teammates with his life, he didn’t know what they’d say to that question. Hell, he didn’t know what they saw or thought they knew. Chance rolled his lips together.
“I’m not going to let a gig mess me up.”

  Jared’s eyes narrowed. “What about a woman?”

  A long, heavy silence hung over the room. Chance swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t let a woman mess me up.”

  Forever ticked by. Finally, Jared nodded. “They agree.”

  Thank fuck for that. Relief rolled down his back, but still, Chance couldn’t relax. “Then, you’re sending me to the Thanes?”

  An uncontrollable excitement pulsed through his veins. Jane was the reason, and he didn’t like it. Time and time, he’d seen men ruin their lives when their dick made their choices. Was that happening now?

  “Are you volunteering?” Jared asked.

  The correct answer was hell no. But, of course he was. Chance couldn’t walk away from an opportunity to see Jane. “Guess so.”

  Chance didn’t say another word during the rest of the meeting. Finally, it ended, and he pushed out of his seat, stalked to the door, and almost jogged down the hallway in search of fresh air.

  The main lobby was a whirl of activity. A forklift beeped as it lifted material to scaffolding. The quiet hum of repairs multiplied in the cavernous space. Chance stopped and watched a group unload the forklift, wondering what the walls might look like when they were finished.

  Liam and Hagan joined him, each flanking his side.

  “What do you think it’s going to look like?” Hagan asked. “The only thing I can come up with is expensive.”

  “Is that a color?” Liam asked.

  Hagan chuckled. “And a texture.”

  “Yeah, this place is going to look pricey,” Liam finally said, then turned to Chance. “So, the Thanes?”

  Hagan turned into the conversation. “You agreed easier than I would’ve guessed.”

  Chance didn’t like what this was leading up to. “Is that right?”

  “Hagan and I were talking,” Liam said.

  “Of course you were.”

  “And, we have questions,” Hagan finished.

  The two of them exchanged smirks like schoolboys in the back of the classroom. Chance acted as though he couldn’t tell and didn’t care. “About?”

  “What the hell happened between you and Jane?” Liam asked, raising his eyebrows in unison with Hagan like they’d rehearsed it all morning.