Meredith flinched. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. I was just trying to be cool so you wouldn’t realize . . . how much I was feeling you.”
“I know that now,” I said. “But in that moment, it got under my skin. The reason I’ve been single for so long is because girls I got with between overseas tours always came at me with that vibe. Like I was a check on their bucket list. Or they wanted to act out some weird fantasy or fetish. I’m not here for it.”
“I’m really sorry,” she insisted. “I swear.”
“And I believe you, mamita. I just want to stress that you may not be like anyone else I’ve been with, but that type of attitude is a dime a bullshit dozen.” Mere had begun nodding again, watching me carefully and crumpling the sheet in her hands, so I brushed my fingers against her knee. “You get it?”
“Yes. But . . . why didn’t you just say that instead of totally writing me off?”
“Because before last night you were just a piece of ass, and I had zero reasons to explain my thoughts to you.”
For a second, I wondered if I’d gone too far, but she’d asked for brutal honesty. I smiled a bit to soften the blow. Or at least tried to make my face look like the face of someone who wasn’t deliberately trying to be a dickhead. It must have worked, because Mere leaned in, planting her palms on the mattress and letting the sheet fall to her lap. Her mouth turned up into a little smile, but she bit the side of it, and was so fucking cute that I wanted to devour her. I hadn’t been this thirsty for someone in a long time, but I hadn’t been pursued this way in a long time either. Most people just wanted me to fuck them so they could brag about it on social media.
“So, am I not just a piece of ass anymore?”
I tilted my forehead against hers. “Yeah, you are. But a more likeable one. One I wouldn’t mind taking out for a pizza or something.”
“Out for a pizza?” Mere made a face. “We could just order one and stay in your bed, and avoid all the annoying people.”
“Now you’re turning me on with all that antisocial talk.”
“I knew being a curmudgeon was the way to your heart.” She nudged her nose against mine, grinning and looking ridiculously giddy. “So does that mean we can hang out beyond the parameters of me laying low for the weekend? We don’t have to tell anybody. It could just be for us . . .”
I knew we’d been leading up to this, but I hesitated. She caught on and squeezed my hand, hopefulness causing her lips to purse and brows to smoosh together. Part of me expected her to get annoyed that I wasn’t jumping at the chance, but part of me wondered if we were just caught up in some sex haze.
“I’m not proposing, asshole. I just want to have a Netflix and chill with you. Like, when I’m not traumatized and you’re not in protective mode.”
The guardedness eased, but before I could respond, I heard a loud knock on the front door. Meredith instantly tensed, and I squeezed her shoulder.
“Could just be Ray or Michael coming to check up. I bet this shit was on the news.”
She relaxed, just marginally. “Maybe I should shower.”
“Do it. Borrow whatever you want. I’ll try not to instantly ruin your clothes this time.”
It looked like she wanted to say something dirty judging by the gleam in her eye, but she wrapped herself in the sheet and hurried across the hall. I smacked my cheeks, trying to blink away the aforementioned sex fog that was leading to some kind of bizarre infatuation, and went out into the living room.
Instead of finding my two favorite dudes, I found a white man in a suit. Angel was leaning against the wall in his work uniform, one eyebrow raised and a look of complete dismay on his face, and Victor was dressed for the gym—both a complete contrast to the man in the suit.
Suited Dude’s eyes fell on me and did a slow circuit once, then again, before he slowly nodded. Was it approval? Understanding? I had no clue. However, a hint of recognition just about knocked me over the head once I really paid attention to his features. The same silvering pattern at the sides of his light-brown hair, slate-gray eyes, same square jawline . . .
I pointed at him. “Kenneth Stone.”
His eyebrows shot up and a smug little smile crossed his face. “Yes.”
Angel blinked, unimpressed. “Who?”
“Mere’s father,” I said. “Though I don’t know why he’s here or how he got our address.”
“I have my sources,” Kenneth said, as if that weren’t a ridiculous thing to say.
Angel gave me the most dead-eyed stare he could muster. “I’m going to work. Call me if you need anything.”
He took off carrying his utility belt, and then it was just me, the man Mere apparently liked to compare to Robert Durst, and fucking Victor. Victor leaned against the counter with his arms over his chest and stared Kenneth down. My first instinct was to think he was being nosy, but his stance read as wary.
Huh.
“Your daughter’s in the shower,” I said. “But I’m curious as to why you came all the way to South Jamaica instead of sending a car for her.”
“Because I didn’t come to talk to my daughter. I came to talk to you.”
Shit, was this the part where it turned into some weird standoff, and he told me to keep my callused military hands off his bespoke kid? I scowled, squaring off.
“Why?”
“Because I saw the surveillance footage of you taking down my daughter’s attacker, and it intrigued me. I looked into your background and saw you’re a decorated Marine. Recently left the military and went to work for Redline Security—a rather shitty company that is more fit for mall security than personal body guards. I’m not sure what my son was thinking when he hired them.” Kenneth paused, letting that sink in, then added calmly, “I wasn’t sure what someone as competent and talented as you was thinking when you went to work for them.”
“I was thinking that I needed to work,” I said sharply. “Why is any of this relevant to you?”
Kenneth looked me over again. He clasped his hands in front of him. “Because I want to offer you a job.”
Victor snapped to attention before I did. Mainly because I couldn’t do much more than eyeball Kenneth in extreme skepticism. He smiled at me, the tiniest upturn of his mouth, almost as though he liked my wariness.
“What kind of job?” Victor asked.
“Security.” Kenneth didn’t look away from me, not even to take in the small apartment or to glance at the hallway in an attempt to locate his daughter. The daughter who’d been attacked only hours ago. “In the past couple of decades, I’ve put together a strong security team made up of the best in the industry. Former military, intelligence agents, private military professionals, and so on. I handpick them, contract them with full benefits, and pay higher than anyone in the industry.”
“How much do you pay?” Victor piped up, as if anyone was talking to him. “I just finished security training and certification in Job Corps, and average pay for a guard is pretty fucki—damn low. Like thirteen bucks an hour when you start out.”
“Depending on experience, you could earn upward of six figures a year. For someone with less experience, I would still pay double what you just quoted.”
Victor’s eyes bugged out of his head, but I continued to survey Kenneth coolly. It wasn’t unheard of for the mega wealthy to want their own team of private guards—one of my Marine buddies was currently making seventy bucks an hour working for a movie star. And from my own research about the Stone family, research done after Meredith had refused to leave both my daydreams and late-night fantasies, Kenneth Stone was worth about ten billion. He could afford to spend a couple mil on security.
“How big is your team?”
Kenneth’s little smile grew, and for half a second he reminded me of Meredith when she was being knowing and cocky. He liked that I was asking questions. I was performing as he’d expected and wanted.
“I employ ten full-time guards. More during events.”
“What kind of trouble do you ant
icipate getting into with an army of personal security guards?”
“I don’t anticipate trouble. The purpose of my team is to circumvent it with risk management and threat assessment for me and my executives.” There was a slight pause and finally, Kenneth glanced around as if searching for someone else. “And my family as needed.”
Ah-hah. I wondered how long he’d known about the doxing, if he was familiar with the lawsuit QFindr was currently pursuing against their former IT manager for making private information public, and whether Caleb had turned down Kenneth’s offer for additional protection and gone with Redline instead.
And now I wondered, given the actual attack on Meredith, if the situation had changed. Were they accepting Daddy’s help? I sure as fuck would. The very idea of sending Meredith home without constant surveillance . . .
“If you already employ ten guards, why are you looking for more?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Adding to your stable for a specific reason?”
“I think you know the reason.”
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume the threats against QFindr staff,” I said.
“Specifically, against my three children.”
I didn’t know what to make of a man who sounded like he was swallowing something sour while acknowledging his three grown children but was still planning to spend several hundred thousand dollars to protect them. I’d picked up on Mere’s animosity for the guy the night before, just by the way she’d mumbled the word dad, so there was clearly more to this story than a father wanting to protect his spawn.
“What else do you know about me?” I asked. “Did you do a full background check?”
“Not as thorough as I’ll do if you end up accepting my offer.”
“You know I’m queer, then?”
“I know you’ve slept with my daughter in the middle of a photoshoot, if I go by the rumors,” Kenneth said flatly. “I know your social media says you are genderqueer.”
He said genderqueer like Donald Trump said Latino. As if it was a word he’d never heard of and was having trouble pronouncing. My lip ticked up, but I smoothed my expression again.
“And you’re willing to hire a genderqueer Latinx person who has ‘slept’ with your daughter?” I asked, going full asshole with air quotes.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he demanded, an edge working into his tone.
“Because I’m willing to bet the rest of your team is full of white cis hetero bros with military tats. The kind of douchebags who drop racial slurs like it’s a normal part of conversation, and who have zero problems profiling.”
Across the room, Victor smirked as the smugness fled Kenneth’s expression.
“I understand why you’d make such an assumption, but you’re wrong.”
“I guess we’ll see,” I said. “Although I’m still confused as to why you’d come here to talk to me. Just because I whooped some fuckboy’s ass on a surveillance video?”
“And because my daughter, who inherited my tendency to trust no one and make myself vulnerable to even fewer people than that, sought protection from you. And you took care of her.”
Ah-hah. Maybe he’d been talking to Caleb. I had no other ideas as to how Kenneth Stone would know Mere had been with me or that I had “taken care of her.” The phrase dug far beneath my skin. It was fucking infantilizing.
“Meredith can take care of herself,” I said sharply. “If you saw the video, then you know that.”
“I know she can fight, but she isn’t a trained professional.” Kenneth slid his hands into his pockets. “And who knows what else may be coming.”
The words sent a chill running up my spine. He was right. Maybe nothing else would come of this, but it was equally possible that this attack against a well-known queer person would embolden others. All it took was one strike for the masses to team up and lash out, especially if Mere’s attack became a media circus and her would-be robbers were crucified. Which, if I went by the air of vengeance coming off Kenneth, he’d bribe whoever he had to in order to make sure they were. Who knew how many other homophobes and stalkers would crawl out of the woodwork?
“I can’t be Meredith’s guard,” I said finally.
“Why?”
Because it was a conflict of interest. I wanted to potentially date her, not fucking work for her. Technically, I’d be working for Kenneth, but it was still too close for my comfort. Not to mention how personally invested I was in her well-being. The next time someone put a hand on her, I was liable to rip their throats out, not just knock them out and wait for an arrest.
“What’s going on?”
Meredith’s voice jolted me. I looked over my shoulder to see her standing in the archway coming from the hall, wearing a pair of my basketball shorts and a ribbed tank top. Her long mass of hair was wet from the shower, and her makeup-less face made her look younger.
I swung my gaze from her to Kenneth, and did not miss the way he zeroed in on the bruises on her neck and arms. There was the briefest flaring of his nostrils before he smoothed his expression once again.
“You need to go to the hospital,” Kenneth said briskly. “Even if your injuries aren’t severe, there needs to be a record—”
“Okay, I already planned on doing that today, but what were you talking to Tonya about?” Meredith walked farther into the room, distrust etched into every line of her lovely face. “And why can’t you call before randomly showing up to someone’s house?”
Kenneth’s cheek clenched. “I apologize if I interrupted.”
Meredith’s jaw dropped.
“I wanted to check in on you. I’ve already spoken to your brother this morning. He’s increasing the security at QFindr, and plans to meet with the rest of the staff about the details we discussed over the phone.”
“Why would he discuss—” A realization dawned, and Meredith huffed out a slow breath. “Let me guess, your security guys will be shadowing us?”
He inclined his head. “Do you take issue with that? You always got along with the team. You would bring them dessert whenever we went out to dinner.”
“That was years ago,” she muttered, still stink-eyeing him. “But no, I actually don’t have a problem with that for now, as long as I don’t have to go back to that enormous mansion alone.”
Huh. Shocker. I’d expected her to scream and stomp her feet about being assigned a guard by the infamous Kenneth Stone. Who she seemed to hate.
“So, why were you talking to Tonya?”
Victor looked from me to Meredith to Kenneth, and he was so into this fucking soap opera. I wanted to kick him out, but I had a feeling he’d push back on my request, and I wasn’t going to argue with him in front of these people.
“He offered me a job with his security team.”
Meredith’s mouth tightened at the sides. “Okay, so you told him you’re not interested, right?”
The pause that stretched out had the capacity to ruin moods, days, and potential future dates. I ran my tongue along the inside of my lip, weighing my words and watching storm clouds gather over her blonde head.
“Right?” she pressed.
“Let’s talk about it later,” I said. “Without an audience.”
For the second time, Meredith’s jaw dropped.
Kenneth slid his hand from his pocket and extended a business card. It was glossy and embossed, most likely bearing all the appropriate contact information for the devil, but I took it. Even with Meredith seething beside me.
“Can I get one of those too?”
Any other time, I would have smacked Victor in his big head. Now? I was a little grateful for the seemingly random request.
“I don’t have a military background like Maldonado,” he said, deep voice louder than necessary in the small room. “But I’m certified.”
“A lot of people are certified,” Kenneth said.
“Yeah, but a lot of people haven’t lived shoulder-to-shoulder with cold-blooded criminals.” Victor raised his eyebrows, unapologetic and sho
wing the brashness I’d come to recognize in his youth. “I have. I know how they think.”
I was fully expecting Kenneth to dead-eye him and walk out the apartment door without a backward glance, but he extended another of his Satan cards. Then he walked out the door.
“Tonya, can we talk? Please.”
Dragging my gaze away from Victor, and wondering whether he’d stuck around because of some sixth sense for cash opportunities, I focused on Meredith and realized she was pissed. Whether her ire was directed at me or her dad, I didn’t know, but I nodded.
“I’m taking off,” Victor said. “I’ll be back tonight.”
“Thanks for the update on your daily agenda.”
He scoffed at me and left, dressed for a day of nothing useful in Nike slides, shorts, and a sleeveless shirt. I wondered what the fuck he even did with his time besides encroach on my conversations with billionaires.
“You’re not really going to work for my dad,” Meredith said as soon as the door shut. “Please tell me you took his card just to be polite.”
I walked around the bar into the kitchen and put the card on the counter. It glared up at me, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Frowning, I flicked the light off so there was nothing but the bright morning sun streaming into the apartment.
“Tonya.” Meredith’s voice rose the more impatient she got. She stalked me into the kitchen and moved closer until she had me backed against the counter. “Can you please answer?”
“I don’t have an answer for you.”
“How? Why?”
I leaned against the counter, elbows on the edge. “Because this is the industry I want to work in, and what he’s describing sounds like the type of move that would never happen for me at Redline.”
“You don’t know anything about his security team,” she insisted. “You’re considering this after a five minute convo?”
“I’ll consider it more seriously after I do some research. And you said yourself—the guys he has on the team aren’t bad. Coming from you, that’s glowing praise.”
Her face flushed red, nostrils flaring the way his had a few moments ago. “He’s a dick,” she gritted out. “And has spent most of his life ignoring my existence. I do not want him in my business.”
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