by Mary Blayney
“Be serious,” she said, punching his arm lightly. “The men you’ve fired. Anyone angry enough to want to show you how vulnerable you are?”
“I don’t know. One was drinking too much. No argument there. The other was caught sleeping on the job. Granted he was a night guard at a congressman’s home, which has to be one of the most boring jobs in the world, but taking a nap is still not acceptable.”
“Why is it boring?”
“If a representative is going to get in trouble, he rarely brings it home. And this guy is a new parent. He’s more tired than a soccer player stuck in endless overtime.”
“There isn’t a woman behind this, is there?” When he only narrowed his eyes in response, she went on. “I saw some signs of a former girlfriend at your place.”
“You did?”
“The dead Christmas tree and the flowered throw. Unless you have a sensitive side I haven’t discovered, I can’t see you buying a throw, much less one with flowers on it.”
“Oh, right, Lisa.” He thought for a moment. “No, not Lisa. It was a mutual break up.”
Kendall knew from her own experience that even in a mutual split someone was hurt, but decided to accept his judgment. “Alright,” she agreed, “Not a woman. Besides we know it’s a man and I can’t see a man coming after you because you broke his sister, mother, or current girl friend’s heart.”
“Yeah. I could see a woman doing it to avenge a friend but not a guy.”
“So what other men might be out to get you?”
“Shit, do you have a second job as an interrogator?”
“No, but I did do background checks for government contractors before I got into acting full time.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Good one Kendall.”
“You know, Steve, Jessica is the only other person who can tell when I’m making something up.”
He moved a step closer, proving a man’s single–minded interest in sex could not be side lined by anything as mundane as a physical threat. “Steve, we have to work this out.”
“I agree. Let’s start with a kiss.”
She pushed him away. “Get serious here. “Someone is out to get you.”
“No, he’s out to make my life hell. If he wanted to do any serious damage, I’d be dead by now.” He flicked the dangle on her earring and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
#
Kendall felt like someone had punched her in the gut. “God, that’s awful.”
“Awful? Let me try again.”
He pulled her into his arms before she could tell him she had been talking about his stalker, not his gesture. He leaned back a little and kissed her. It felt like the first time she’d ever been properly kissed. All those other men had just been beginners trying to mimic the real thing. Which this definitely was. How could lips meeting change a life so thoroughly?
She stopped analyzing and gave herself over to the pure pleasure of it. Opened her lips to invite more and pressed close, thrilled to feel him grow hard against her.
The sound of footsteps overhead distracted them just enough to reduce to allow the rest of the world in for a moment.
“Oh, Jessica’s home!” She pressed a quick kiss to those irresistible lips and stepped back. “If I don’t run up and say hi, she’ll come down.”
She took a moment to smooth her hair and find her shoes. “I’ll be back in a few, give some real thought to who this might be. Who have you annoyed or upset or frustrated? Who knows, it could even be an O’Hara fan that was refused an autograph. You know what I mean?”
“Sure. But when you come back, I want to pick up where we left off, and I’m not talking about your inquisition.”
She flashed him a smile of pure agreement and added, “Did I ever tell you I’m a qualified yoga instructor? The positions I know are mind boggling.”
Steve laughed. “Now that one I’m going to believe just because I want to.”
Kendall blew him a kiss and headed for the back stairs to tell her sister not to stay upstairs for the rest of the night.
#
Steve O’Hara walked around the small space, trying to slow his body down. Nothing was worse than having a mutual seduction interrupted. Okay, there were lots of worse things…like someone else’s crying baby, a car accident, the cruelty of people at war. The list went on and on. With those images in mind, he lost his hard on. He went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and then sat down on her sofa to give some thought to everyone he might have frustrated, annoyed, or upset over the course of his life.
Fans sure. But his staff worked hard at trying to placate fans and keep them happy. It was a trademark of his company and the reason why they were so successful with celebrities.
His men and women were well trained to think about what was in the best professional interests of their employers, not just about their personal safety. As far as he was concerned, it was a win/win. It gave his staff something to think about when the security work was more boring than watching an empty soccer field. No, he didn’t think it was a fan. He was confident enough about that to drop that line of thought.
He heard footsteps overhead and wondered how long “Welcome home” would take before forcing his attention back to the issue at hand.
The people he hired had a very interesting set of variables, paramount being a healthy self–image. He recruited people who were confident but could handle not being the center of attention. That was the reason his HR crew did those personality tests and he always had the last interview with a proposed hire. An oversized ego, or worse – out and out narcissism – spelled disaster in his line of work.
Two things occurred to him almost simultaneously.
That was not Jessica upstairs.
Kendall had gone up to say hello to Ian Carmody, a man who had asked him for a job as friend…a man he had refused to hire. Narcissism being his middle name.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Steve added a few other expletives as he raced for the back steps. He was half way up when he forced himself to slow down and concentrate on what he could hear. He edged up the steps one at a time. When he was two from the top, he caught Kendall’s voice, which sounded so conversational, he thought for a moment she might be talking to Jessica after all.
“He is such a loser. You are so right.”
He heard a rumble in response. No, not Jessica.
“Exactly. He told me about you. He said he couldn’t hire you because you were too good. He figured you would show him up in no
time.”
One more step, and he could hear Carmody’s voice.
“He had that right. I would have taken over Wellstone within six months, proving that his only talent was in soccer. And no one in the league even remembers his name.”
“Oh, you played soccer together?”
She sounded so relaxed that the two of them could have been at a bar. The woman could act.
“Yeah, we played in college. My knee gave out, so I only lasted a year in the pros.”
Which was an out and out lie.
“O’Hara made it but not for long. He was all jazz and no endurance.”
“I’ve noticed that,” Kendall said with a considering nod. “So this is all about proving that you’re the best. Though that seems obvious. But listen, since you are so much better why not set up a competing company? Why try to infiltrate his?”
No! Steve had to press his lips together to keep from shouting. Fawn all over him. Do not point out errors in his logic.
“You stupid bitch. What would be the fun in that?”
Kendall gasped and Steve risked spanning the rest of the steps so that he could not only hear but see. The door was halfway open, thank God. He could see that Carmody had grasped her arm and pulled her up against the barrel of the gun he was holding.
“Oh, oh, I see,” she said with a quaver in her voice that was not an act. “I guess my brain just doesn’t work as fast as yours.”
“These last few weeks I’ve shown
him just how vulnerable he is to someone who can slice through his pathetic security efforts.” He dug the gun into her neck as he spoke. “And I’m not done yet. I’m gonna fix him. I’ve decided on his knees. I’m gonna shoot them out. If he can learn to walk again, he’ll think of me every time he takes a step.”
“That’s brilliant,” Kendall breathed the words in a whisper as seductive as anything Marilyn Monroe had ever done.
Carmody relaxed a little.
Steve saw Kendall draw a deep breath, reach up move the barrel of the gun away from her face with one finger. “We don’t need that do we?” Once the gun was out of the way she stepped closer to him, so close they were almost touching. “There’s another way we can show him who’s the bigger man.” She emphasized ‘bigger’ so that Carmody had to know she was not talking about his height or brain size.
“Oh, baby, you bet.” He stuck the gun in the back of his waistband and pulled her in for a kiss. Kendall buried her face in his neck instead.
“Let’s go make him watch,” she whispered.
“Where is he? I thought he left.”
“He’s passed out on my couch downstairs. Let’s go down, tie him up, toss some cold water on him, and show him what a good fuck looks like.”
Shit, Steve thought, and turned to race down the stairs as fast as he could. Wishing he had a script for this scene, he debated flopping on the couch. No, he could hide in the laundry room and catch Carmody as he passed by. Improv was hell.
Steve heard them on the steps.
Kendall stopped with a little tiny shriek, “A mouse! You go first. Please.”
“A mouse? I eat those for breakfast.”
A few seconds later, Steve heard the sound of two hundred pounds thumping down the stairs – head first, he hoped.
Carmody was not unconscious, but when Steve found them it was Kendall who was holding the gun.
Steve grabbed it and thwacked Carmody, leaving him unconscious but not bleeding.
“Shit, that was stupid. What if he had pulled you down the stairs with him?” Steve asked as he pulled Kendall into his arms. She pushed out of his embrace and started down the hall.
“Grab the phone and dial 911,” he called after her. “ I’ll look for something to tie him up. I’m not sure how long he’ll be out.”
“You do it.” Kendall grabbed the phone and tossed it to him. She ducked into the bathroom and even the closed door was not thick enough to mask the sound of someone being very, very sick.
With a grimace that was pure sympathy he dialed the number for his New York office. The team was on their way by the time he ended the call and punched in 911.
That bit of business done, Steve hunted through the kitchen drawers and found an extension cord he could use to secure Carmody’s hands behind his back while he was still dead to the world.
Then, his work done for now, he did what he wanted to do most and least. Steve headed into the front room where Kendall was sitting on the sofa, rocking back and forth in a rhythm he recognized.
The adrenaline drain had to be bringing home the realization of how close she had come to disaster, or, as he’d said, how stupid she had been. He knew better than to use those words again. He settled next to her on the couch. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and ignored him.
“That was Academy Award level acting.”
His words took her by surprise. He could tell by the way she jerked back, opened her eyes, and looked at him. “It could have earned me a Golden Globe, maybe. Not an Oscar.”
“A lifetime achievement award and then some,” he insisted. “You were fantastic.”
Kendall shrugged, and he reached out to pull her into his arms. That let the dam loose and she began to cry. They were hot, angry tears, but he had expected them and was pretty sure the anger was not aimed at him.
She held on to him as though he was her lifeline, and he let her cry, rubbing her back, hoping the shivering would stop soon. That worried him more than the tears.
“Oh God, what’s wrong with me?” she gulped between sobs.
“Adrenaline crash.”
She nodded against his chest. “I was so scared, but I knew I had to distract him until you came.”
Kendall pushed away from him but continued to hold his hand. “So I buried it deep and started acting. God,” she prayed, “I wish I had buried it deeper.”
“No, no,” he said. “You needed to deal with it eventually. Better for it to happen now than for you to deal with nasty PTSD problem later…you know, like the need to have sex with any man nearby.”
She punched his arm.
“Though I would be happy to help you deal with the trauma if that’s the way it affects you.”
The sound of sirens distracted them both. Kendall took in one deep cleansing breath and then another. By the time the cops burst in, she was as composed as a he was. He hoped it was the yoga breathing and not more acting.
Chapter Nine
It was the middle of the night before the police had Carmody on the way to the station. Steve had been on the phone with his office, advising them of the change in the threat to his brother. Kendall eavesdropped without apology as he explained the situation. After all, if she didn’t, he’d just have to repeat it to her later.
“Our soccer careers dovetailed. We played together in college, and then we both went on to the pros. Carmody lasted only a year. His ego got in the way. He was impossible to coach. Always thought he had a better way to get it done. He was right about half the time, but no team likes to be at the mercy of an ego that big.”
He listened for a minute.
“Narcissist? It’s a big word, but it fits the bill. No one was as good as he was, as smart. Which in one sentence is why I wouldn’t hire him when he asked me for a job. He would have been a loose cannon.”
He smiled at Kendall as he listened and patted the seat beside him. He was sitting on the couch upstairs in Jessica’s living room. She sat and he wrapped his free arm around her, settling her head against his chest.
“Exactly. That was the last straw for him.”
Listening again.
“He sure has some skills to override the security Jessica has on this place without setting off any alarms.”
Kendall sat up and shook her head.
“Wait a minute.” Steve pressed the phone to his chest.
“I deactivated most of the system when we came in downstairs.”
He nodded and explained that detail to the person on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in the morning. Nothing much to do now but tie up any loose ends. Would you call Mike and let him know the details? Tell him I’ll call in the AM.”
He listened for another minute. A laugh was his only comment as he ended the call and stood up.
Kendall stayed where she was. “I don’t think I can move.”
“Sure you can. All you have to do is go downstairs and get into bed.”
With a sigh, she stood and worked her way toward the back stairs, avoiding so much as looking at the place where she’d confronted Carmody.
She got to hallway and dragged herself to her sleeping area.
“You’ll feel better if you wash your face and brush your teeth. Where do you keep your pajamas? Or do you sleep naked?” He waggled his brows and she smiled a little.
“On a hook behind the bathroom door,” she said as she entered that room, feeling like an automaton that could only respond to direct questions.
Kendall did feel a little better once she removed her makeup and slathered on some moisturizer. She dropped her clothes on the floor and struggled into the sleep shirt that was neither sexy nor new.
She stumbled out and as soon as she did, Steve stopped texting and led her to the bed.
She sat on the edge. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He nodded. “Me neither.”
She was sure that was a lie, but it was a sweet one.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
She looked up at him, truly annoyed when her eyes filled with tears. “Would you sleep here with me? I mean just sleep. Or is that asking too much?”
“No, baby, it’s not asking too much at all. As much as sex with you is something I’m beginning to want more than food, tonight is not the night for it. It would be taking advantage.”
“Well, so is asking you to just sleep next to me,” Kendall said around a huge yawn.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
She slid into her bed and moved over to the far edge, nearest the wall, leaving a good two–thirds of the bed for him.
She was almost asleep when her door bell sounded and she sat bolt upright.
“It’s for me,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No, Kendall. I didn’t have one with me tonight.” He got up and stretched, all calm and collected.
“Who knew you’d need it.”
“Hey, his gun worked just fine, right?”
“Uh huh,” she said and pressed her mouth together to keep from sobbing out loud.
“Relax. It’s just someone from the office with a change of clothes and a toothbrush for me. I planned to stay here tonight even before you asked. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
She watched through the squares of the room divider as he answered the door with an easy confidence that was totally puzzling. He recovered his good humor pretty quickly, she thought. Then the realization sunk in that catching Carmody had to have taken a big load off his shoulders.
The urge to cry passed and Kendall settled back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. A few minutes later she felt the mattress dip as he joined her under the covers. “How come you’re not suffering from this so called adrenaline crash?” She turned her head on the pillow and watched him as he answered.
“I’ve been through more than a few stressful situations, and this one ended with a big win for me.” He folded his arms under his head and stared at the ceiling. “I think I’m still feeling the high.”
Kendall turned away, showing him her back, and the next minute felt his hands on her shoulders, kneading away the tension that had her in knots. If he keeps doing that, she thought, I could fall all the way in love with him. She fell asleep before she could dispel the idea.