Faking Ever After with the Bodyguard
A Sweet Fake Romance
Book 1
Lacy Andersen
Faking Every After with the Bodyguard
Copyright 2019 by Lacy Andersen
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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Chapter One
Bethany
Bethany was going to chase the bad luck from her life this year. She could feel it. Closing her eyes, she clasped the four leaf clover charm that hung from a silver chain around her neck and breathed in deep. Good-bye old cursed life. Hello to new opportunities and taking chances.
“You ready to be impressed?” Her date, Matthew, leaned against the elevator wall. A cocky gleam shone in his eye as he stared at her, waiting for an answer.
Bethany quirked a smile in his direction. Matthew certainly had a magnetic charm about him. He’d taken the time to dress up in a nice suit for their date, combed back his jet-black hair with some kind of hair product, and even opened the door for her when she’d arrived at the restaurant. He was employed as an accountant and not living in his mother’s basement—all rare finds for a thirty-two-year old woman still in the Las Vegas dating market.
Despite those factors, something hadn’t quite clicked between the two of them this evening. He’d spent far too long flirting with their curvy waitress and seemed to only want to talk about his job. She was pretty sure he hadn’t asked her a single question about herself in the hour and a half they’d been eating their dinner.
Still, the new Bethany wasn’t going to prematurely close any doors. Maybe he was nervous. Or, took a while to warm up. She could give him another chance.
“I’m sure your new corner office is great,” she replied in a low voice, giving him a reluctant smile. She tucked her wavy, blonde hair behind one ear and clasped her hand tighter around her lucky necklace.
He’d been insistent on showing off his new office he’d been given with his recent promotion. So somehow, she’d found herself following a stranger to his dark office late at night. Maybe not the smartest idea in the world, but she was trying to stay positive. He hadn’t seemed like the serial killer type.
“Remember, I can’t stay long,” she said, pushing away her unease. “I start my new job tomorrow morning.”
A sign of her changing luck had been this new job offer. After ten months of searching for a position in her field, she’d finally hit the jackpot. No more waiting tables. Tomorrow she started the events manager position at one of the biggest non-profits in the Las Vegas area—the Richards Foundation. It was a dream come true for someone like her.
“No worries, doll,” Matthew said with a satisfied smirk, giving her a wink. “I won’t give you a tour of the whole place. It might overwhelm you. Just the highlights. Besides, we’re not really allowed to have outsiders on the floor, if you know what I mean? Bad for business.”
The elevator slid to a stop and Bethany managed to hide her less-than-enthusiastic smile while following her date onto the floor. Maybe not all men knew that a corner office wasn’t exactly the way to a girl’s heart. Still, the guy was obviously excited about his recent promotion, so she could play nice.
“This is where the magic happens,” Matthew said, sweeping his arm at the open hallways lit by low emergency lights.
Conference rooms and dozens of offices were visible through the thick glass walls and doors that separated the floor. Giant metal desks littered the spaces, abandoned for the night by their owners. The late-evening gleam of the city glowed through the distant windows and made for an impressive sight.
Even in the dark, Bethany could tell it was the swankiest office she’d ever been in—including the location of her brand new job. It would take a fortune to rent space like this in Las Vegas. Whatever Matthew’s company did, they did it well.
“What was it you said you did again?” she asked, following him down the darkened hall.
He chuckled deeply and huffed. “Dollars and cents, baby. We keep our clients’ pocket books in order and they pay us well for keeping their secrets. It’s a prosperous business.”
Bethany wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but now was not the time to delve into Matthew’s work ethics. She was tired and this date was dragging on. Coffee was out of the picture. All she wanted now was a cab ride home and to dive deep into the depths of her Egyptian cotton sheets.
“Listen, Matthew.”
She chewed on the tip of her scarlet-painted fingernail and fidgeted with the front of her red backless dress. Her mother’s voice had sounded in her head earlier that day when she’d picked it out of the depths of her closet. Red brings good luck, Beth. Wear the dress. You’ll need it. She couldn’t resist. After all, it didn’t hurt to stack all the cards in her favor, did it?
“Hold up. It looks like the boys are pulling in some overtime,” Matthew said, holding his finger up to his lips to silence her.
Her hazel eyes went crossed-eyed glaring at his stubby digit. That was the last straw. No one shushed Bethany Reed like a child.
She was about to tell him off when the hum of voices reached her ears. Gazing out into the office space, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and picked out a small huddle of people standing around a dim desk lamp. There were four men, all dressed in black suits and red ties.
She pressed her red lips together as her gaze settled on the man who was speaking. Something about him seemed familiar. He had an angular face with cheek bones that could’ve cut through glass, slicked back brown hair, and an uncanny way of making the most innocent of gestures appear intimidating. He was the only one sitting in a chair, his arms crossed over his chest. She could hear the soft, low rumble of his voice as he pointed at one of the other men in the group.
“Is that...?” She wracked her brain, trying to put a finger on the name. She’d seen that guy somewhere. Was it online? The television? Or, maybe the news. Yes! The news. “Is that Gerald Void?”
That was him. She knew she’d seen his face. Gerald Void was running for Las Vegas mayor and the news loved to talk about him and his campaign. An active member of the community, his family owned one of the biggest casinos in the area. If there was one thing she knew about Gerald Void, it was that he didn’t pull any punches. His campaign to rule the city had been merciless. The last she heard, he was crushing his opponents.
“Just one of our many exclusive clients,” Matthew whispered, tugging at his suit jacket as a proud grin tugged at his lips. “I’m going to pop in to say hello. Just stay quiet and wait for me here, doll. Don’t need to draw any attention to yourself.”
Before Bethany could protest, Matthew had abandoned her to the darkened hallway and migrated toward the crew still huddled around the desk. She tried not to pout a
s she leaned against the glass wall and waited for her date to return.
The clamor of raised voices pulled her attention away from her misery. Gerald Void had finally risen from his seat and was towering over one of the men in his company. Even in the half dark, Bethany could see the steel cold rage on his face. It sounded like someone was getting fired. Unable to stop herself, she edged closer to listen in.
For once, someone else was having the unlucky day.
She had just moved a little farther down the hall when a gleam of light reflected off the metallic surface of a gun. Her heart stopped dead as she watched Gerald Void raise the gun and point it at the balding man quivering in front of him. Gerald’s lips curled into a scowl and all the world went quiet.
“The Feds are already on my case as it is. It’s only a matter of time before the media picks up on it and there goes my campaign. I warned you, Fred. You cross me, you disappear.”
Bethany’s breath caught in her chest as Fred held up his hands and muttered some unintelligible words. The men surrounding him all chuckled, including Matthew, who seemed to have forgotten her very existence for the moment.
Her entire body screamed at her to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. Instead, she watched Fred begin to blubber into his hands, his face turning red. He knew he was going to die.
She waited for the loud bang of the gun.
It was coming, she knew it.
And then—she’d be next.
Instead, Gerald nodded to a bulky man on his right. The man grabbed the lamp from the desk and with a smooth stroke, whacked Fred over the head with it, leaving him in a crumpled pile on the floor.
“Let’s show Freddy what we do to traitors, shall we?” Gerald asked in an eerily calm voice.
A small voice in Bethany’s head began to scream at her to move. The men were picking Fred up off the ground. Matthew was whispering in Gerald’s ear. Soon, they’d discover her presence and she’d suffer a fate just like Fred’s.
She couldn’t let that happen. She’d just started her new life. A new apartment. The perfect job. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Inching toward the elevator button, she prayed desperately for it to open. It softly dinged almost immediately, the silver doors sliding ajar and blinding her with a brilliant white light. She hopped inside, her heart pounding, and hammered on the button for the lobby. Never in her life had an elevator door closed so slowly. But finally, she was alone and traveling down to the first floor.
Still, she knew she wasn’t safe. Matthew had to realize she was gone by now. He wouldn’t be too happy to know she’d skipped out on him. And Gerald Void wouldn’t be happy to know she’d witnessed him ordering an execution.
Her throat clenched at the thought. Was that what she’d witnessed? Was that Fred guy dead?
Was she next?
Her trembling legs led her out onto the darkened street and around the corner. The farther she walked, the faster they moved, until finally she was in an all-out sprint. She didn’t know where she was going. All she could think about was thanking her lucky stars that she’d worn her gladiator sandals that evening. If she’d put on her heels like she’d first intended, she would’ve been caught already. Killed by fashion. Irony at its best.
And so not lucky.
It wasn’t until she burst through the doors of the police station did she realize where her feet had carried her. And it wasn’t until she ran smack dab into the back of a mountain of a man did her quivering body finally collapse on her. The man spun and caught her by the elbows before she could hit the ground.
“Miss, are you okay?” he asked in a deep voice. His brow furrowed with a combination of concern and annoyance. “Are you another one of those protesters? Because I’m really not in the mood to arrest any more animal rights activists. That’s not part of my job description.”
She leaned back, confusion clouding her head. Of course she wasn’t a protester. She was here on a life or death mission. But it seemed she’d lost the ability to speak. Helpless, she stared up at him as he practically carried her to a 70’s plastic deco chair in the lobby and deposited her next to a tattooed man in handcuffs.
“I need...I need...” She clasped her four-leaf clover and swallowed down the lump in her throat.
The man stared down at her, making her feel tiny. He had a thick barrel chest, muscular arms, and a tapered waist. His dark hair was cropped closely to his head and his square jaw neatly shaved. He had to be only about thirty-five, but he carried himself like a man twice his age and experience. Even in her shock, she couldn’t help but notice his stunning blue-green eyes, rimmed by dark lashes.
“What do you need, lady?” The annoyance in his voice faded when her eyes filled up with tears. Lowering down to a knee in front of her, his eyes softened and he cleared his throat. “No need to get upset. Tell me what I can do for you.”
“I need to speak with an officer,” she finally croaked, expelling a tense breath. Her shoulders shuddered under the effort. “I think...I think I just witnessed a murder.”
Chapter Two
Troy
“Don’t forget the toilets before you leave, Agent Troy. I know that’s under your job description now.”
Jonathon Troy glared at the cop holding out a plunger in his direction. The officer was a toe-headed young thing with a cocky smile and evidently, a desire to die at such a tender age.
“You think that’s funny, boy?” Troy leaned against the wall of the Las Vegas police station and slightly loosened his tie. He’d need a little breathing room if he was going to teach this scamp a lesson.
“Yes...” A flicker of doubt entered the man’s eyes and his smile faltered. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll have you know that down at the Bureau, they teach us a dozen ways to kill a man with a plunger alone. A dozen. Want me to demonstrate some of those moves on you right now?”
“No, sir.” The cop dropped the plunger to the floor and retreated a step. “Sorry, sir.”
Troy growled and rubbed the back of his neck as the boy fled in the opposite direction. He already loathed being sentenced to desk duty at the FBI. Everyone thought he was a joke. Being sent to the local precinct like a gopher boy to pick up decades old evidence boxes was just another punch to the gut. He should be out there working on his cases—not running mind-numbing errands for his boss.
The pressure was giving him a major craving for something deep-fried in oil. And preferably smothered in powdered sugar.
“You better remove that stick from your rear end before someone gets hurt.” Shawn Richmond thumped Troy on the back and dropped his arm around his shoulders as he chuckled. His Italian roots had given him an olive skin tone, wavy brown hair that fell to the tops of his ears, and dark brown eyes. He wore his tan officer uniform like a badge of honor. “The boys around here are starting to fear your visits.”
“As they should.” Troy grunted and flexed his hands. He and Shawn went way back, all the way to high school, when they would dream about entering law enforcement. He was the only one allowed to joke at his expense. “If they think they’re funny, they’ve got something else coming.”
“You going to take out the entire fourth street precinct?” Shawn laughed and dropped his arm from around Troy’s shoulder. “I’d pay good money to see that. If my old lady hadn’t banned me from gambling, I’d take a piece of that action.”
“Better put your money on me, then,” Troy replied, a reluctant smile pulling at the side of his mouth. “I’ve seen more fight in a litter of week-old kittens. Where are you recruiting your officers these days, Captain? From the local kindergarten?”
Shawn barked a laugh as Troy scanned the room, his gaze landing on the woman sitting in the lobby. She’d come barging into the precinct just moments ago and in her panic, nearly flattened herself against his backside. He’d managed to get her to a chair before she collapsed in his arms.
Normally, he wouldn’t have given a civilian sitting in a police station any attention,
but he couldn’t deny this woman was worth a second glance. She wore a stunning red dress that fell to her shapely calves and leather sandals that wrapped around her ankles. Her blonde hair hung loose around her heart-shaped face in soft, lazy waves. When he’d held her in his arms, he’d caught a slight scent of jasmine in her perfume. He guessed she was about his age and definitely not the usual type who came through those doors.
“Who is that?” Shawn asked, his dark eyebrows raising. His eyes twinkled as he took in the sight of the woman sitting in the lobby. “Don’t tell me she’s dating one of the new guys. I think I’d have to die.”
“I was just coming to find you,” Troy replied, lowering his voice. “She says she witnessed a murder. I think she’s telling the truth.”
Troy couldn’t explain how he knew for sure, but something in the woman’s hazel eyes had told him she was being sincere. Stark and utter panic had taken root there. She reminded him of the fox his grandfather had once caught in a trap at his home in Montana. It had been a beautiful creature. So delicate looking. But panic had kept it pressed against the back of the cage, even long after his grandfather had opened the door to release it.
The woman’s gaze darted nervously around the room and landed on him. He returned her stare, trying to work her out. How did a woman like that get involved in a murder? An overwhelming curiosity exploded inside his gut. He needed answers.
“I guess I’d better do my job,” Shawn said, tugging on his belt with a grim smile. “I’ll see what she has to say.”
Troy grabbed his shoulder before he could walk away. “Mind if I sit in on the interview?”
Hesitation flashed in Shawn’s eyes and his lips twisted into a grimace. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, buddy. Your boss would have my head on a pike if he found out I’d been letting you get some local action.”
“My boss isn’t going to find out.” Troy puffed up his chest and gave Shawn the full effect of his scowl. “I’m just going to sit in. Feed my curiosity. That’s it, I swear.”
Faking Ever After with the Bodyguard: A Sweet Fake Romance Page 1