“Are they?” her father asked, his eyes daring her to lie to him.
She couldn’t. Not to him or to herself any more. When she couldn’t find her red silk scarf, panic had gripped her for she knew she had left the scarf on the sofa in her living room.
“I don’t know,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“Come home.”
“And do what, Daddy?” she asked frustrated. “Hide? I have a life and a job.”
“Club hopping? Is that what you call a life?” He pointed to her outfit.
“Daddy, please.”
“A job, by the way, is something you do and get a pay check. It’s not wasting your time with this Nest Foundation.”
He flicked his hand in the air dismissing her work at the Foundation as unimportant. That’s what he did. It was all about control. He wielded his power and everyone obeyed, but not Sam O’Malley.
“It’s called Robyn’s Nest Foundation. Don’t belittle what I do. I enjoy it.”
“If that’s what you’ve chosen to do with your life, that’s fine for now, we can discuss it further another time. Let’s focus on this person that’s following you. What if he decides that’s not enough?”
Alexandria’s face dropped when she thought about what happened earlier when she turned onto the estate approaching the gate. The driveway leading up to the estate was on an incline. When she pressed the break pedal the car didn’t stop.
“What is it?”
“Two nights ago when I arrived home, someone had laid out a white laced nightgown on my bed. Then the car…when I came off the hill I couldn’t stop. I pressed the breaks but the car just kept going…it wouldn’t stop.” Alexandria watched as her father’s tanned face paled.
He jumped up, practically lifting the table off the floor. “Colt!”
“Where are you going?”
“I want Colt to inspect your car. Then I’m going to call Mr. O’Malley back. You need someone with you. Perhaps he’ll have some ideas about your security problem at your condo.”
“I’ve changed the security system since then, daddy, and I can take care of myself. I won’t let you run my life.”
It was like déjà vu all over again. That’s why she had left home in the first place. But she always came back to the same thing. Why? He was the only parent she had. Her mother was dead. He knew what was best for her, or he thought he did. Well, no more. Why did she even agree to join him for breakfast? She should have gone home to bed after the party.
“Do you still want my money for this Robyn’s Nest Foundation?”
He had promised to contribute two million dollars to the Foundation that her friend, Robyn, chaired. They were depending on his donation because the Foundation had already started construction on the new building. They needed the money.
“You wouldn’t.”
Yes, he would. He didn’t get to where he was by backing down from anyone or anything. He always got what he wanted without compromising because he was Warren Prescott.
“Watch me,” he said as he left the dining room.
Chapter Two
“I’m not a babysitter, Matt.”
After his little run in with Princess, Sam had spent the better part of the afternoon searching for a body shop specializing in corvettes. He found one between Water Park and Orlando and had one of the mechanics look at his car. Four grand to repair the damage they could see. That’s why it was called an estimate. There was the work that he needed to get done but he didn’t have the money for pushed it to six grand. Work he had planned on taking his time to complete himself but because of Princess’ stupidity, he had to think about doing it now. He was still stewing over the quote when Matt called.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“She’s a spoiled child and I refuse to waste my time with her.”
Sam shoved the quote aside and got up from the table. He opened the freezer and took out a frozen chicken dinner. He needed to buy real food, not the junk Matt had stocked the fridge with.
“Either you’re blind or we’re not talking about the same woman, Sam. You know…the one with the hour glass figure.”
“Hadn’t noticed,” Sam lied.
Peeling back a part of the plastic from the frozen dinner, he opened the microwave, shoved the food in and set the timer for four minutes. He almost lost the phone balanced between his shoulder and ear.
“Your nose is growing. Come on, admit it, every time you think about her it makes you want to go to confession.”
“Not Catholic.”
The microwave roared to life when he pressed the start button. Plates. He didn’t see any as he opened cupboard after cupboard, trying to block out the image in his mind of Alexandria wearing that white dress.
“You lie like a cheap rug, Pinocchio. I’ve been out with her a few times.”
The thought of Matt and Alexandria crumpling the sheets bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He quickly told himself it had nothing to do with him. What she did and with whom was her own business, but it didn’t stop the knot from forming in his gut.
Here he was jealous of the guy he had lip-synced the Ebony and Ivory song with in high school for the talent show. They’d roomed together in college and even dated the same girls. No jealousy had entered their friendship. Then Matt joined the Marines after college and he joined the Police Academy.
They’d kept in touch sporadically over the years, and then two weeks ago, fed up with his life, Sam had called Matt. The next thing he knew, he was moving to Florida. Well, moving south didn’t mean that he had to babysit a spoiled brat and have Matt throw their relationship in his face.
“You obviously have a thing for Princess. Why don’t you shelve your day job at daddy’s corporate tower and babysit her full time?”
“I play in my own backyard.” Matt paused for a moment. “If I didn’t know you better I’d swear the green-eyed monster was rearing its ugly head.”
“Jealous? Me? I think you’ve been in the sun too long.”
“I’d told Mr. Prescott you would be able to help.”
“Then I suggest you tell him the truth because I’m not doing it.” Still annoyed about Matt’s green-eyed monster comment, Sam said, “Did Prescott tell you she wrecked my car?”
Matt chuckled. “He used the word ‘scratch’.”
“A six thousand dollar scratch,” Sam said exasperated.
“That thing is a bucket of bolts on wheels. I’m hard pressed to think that the cost of the repair doesn’t also include work that already needed to be done.”
“Yes, but I could’ve done that on my schedule.”
“Charge it to Prescott. He’ll gladly pay for it.”
“That’s not the point.” Yeah, he’d thought about sticking Prescott with the entire bill. But as much as he disliked the man it was wrong.
Matt let out a long sigh and asked. “What’s the point, Sam? You’ve been tap dancing for the last fifteen minutes.”
“You’re Prescott’s head honcho of security. Find someone else. I’m sure you know a lot of good guys out there from your military days who would love to chaperone daddy’s little Princess and love it.”
“I trust you,” Matt replied ignoring his rant. “My gut is telling me that this guy following her is bad news. She needs someone 24/7 to flush him out. Since you’re only taking up space and eating your way through my food I suggest you earn your keep.”
The microwave beeped to a stop and he opened the door to retrieve his food with a dishtowel he’d snagged from the handle of the oven door.
“The woman I met didn’t look like she was concerned about anything. Are you sure it’s not in her head.”
“Funny, that’s what she thought. I’ve accompanied her to several functions. It’s not in her head. Something is not right in a creepy kind of way. That’s why I spoke to her father. She won’t forgive me for that, but it’s better to be alive than dead.”
Matt had good instincts and if he was jittery then
he had cause to be. Sam was quiet for a moment wondering how he could possibly babysit Princess and keep his sanity in tact at the same time.
“She’s a little challenging,” Matt said, “But—”
“A spoiled brat is more like,” he grumbled.
“You said that already. Come on the money is good. A week, that’s all I ask. You can continue to live at my place rent free and after you’re done you can find something permanent.”
“It’s a one bedroom. I don’t want to put you out.”
“Don’t worry about it, I spend most of my time at the corporate suite Mr. Prescott provides for his executives.”
Why wasn’t he surprised? Matt was at Prescott’s beck and call. Then again Matt was there because he wanted to be. He liked money. Rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful was a bonus.
“A week,” Sam agreed.
“Great. It’ll give me some time to run down a lead.”
“What lead?”
“I met Alexandria for lunch a few days ago. I’m almost positive we were being followed, but I couldn’t pick him up.”
“That’s not like you.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, I contacted a friend at Orlando P.D. I wanted to know if any traffic cop had written any tickets within a two-block area of the restaurant or seen anything suspicious. It was a long shot, but it paid off. An officer, Rodriquez, called but we haven’t been able to connect. She left a message saying she will call me back after her shift today.”
“Let me know what you come up with.”
“Will do. I left a present for you in the cookie jar. You might need some firepower. Oh, feed Elvira for me will you,” Matt said with a laugh and hung up.
“Elvira? Wait—”
Sam stood still looking around the kitchen after Matt hung up the phone. He peered under the table in the corner, but didn’t see anything. Sam remembered the tarantula Matt owned in high school, and then the snake just before he went off to join the Marines, Sam shuddered to think of who or what Elvira was. He stuck his head over the island staring into the living room and further down the narrow hallway.
Nothing slithering. No hissing or scratching. He hadn’t seen a cage anywhere, but that didn’t mean anything. He was introduced to Louise, the tarantula crawling across his chest after one of Matt’s famous parties in high school and had nearly wet his pants. Whatever Elvira was, it would find him, eventually.
Sam placed the phone back on the charger when it beeped indicating the battery was low. He reheated his dinner then grabbed a beer from the fridge.
He set the beer and the dinner on the island and pulled up a stool. He sat on the stool and let his gaze wander around the apartment. Matt’s place was the quintessential bachelor pad with stark white walls and black furnishings. No pictures. Well, not if you count the picture of the dogs dressed in tuxedoes playing poker over the fireplace smoking cigars.
Well, if he was going to play bodyguard to Little-Miss-Sunshine then he might as well see what he was up against. Sam was about to open the file Matt had conveniently left sitting on the counter since the day he’d arrived from Boston when someone knocked on the door. He reached for the cookie jar in the shape of a bulldog on the counter and removed the lid. Inside he found a semi-automatic handgun. He shoved it in the waistband of his jeans and headed for the door.
After he had left the Prescott estate that afternoon, he had the strangest feeling that he was being followed. It didn’t matter how many times he drove around in circles the kicker was he couldn’t pick up anyone, and that didn’t sit well with him at all. He was halfway to the door when he heard the voice of the last person he expected to see tonight.
“Mr. O’Malley, it’s Warren Prescott.”
• • •
Warren Prescott knocked again on the door. He hated to be kept waiting. Yet that’s what Mr. O’Malley was doing. He’d just gotten off the phone with Matt while enroute to Matt’s apartment and was assured that O’Malley was at the apartment. He knocked again and heard movement on the other side of the door.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Prescott?” Sam asked when he opened the door leaning against the doorframe. He watched as Sam’s gaze shifted to Colt waiting by the black Escalade. His bodyguard didn’t like O’Malley and it seemed the feeling was mutual, but that was not his concern at the moment.
“I’d like a word with you. May I?” Warren looked beyond Sam’s shoulder into the living room. The man didn’t budge. “Please.”
Sam nodded. Colt started toward the apartment building.
“He can wait outside,” Sam said loud enough for Colt to hear. “He doesn’t look toilet trained.”
Prescott gestured for Colt to wait and the bodyguard stopped half way up the walkway. He was aware that the bodyguard didn’t like this impromptu meeting. Colt typically received his schedule in advance so that he could execute his job and protect him. Not his time. He had wanted to talk to O’Malley himself and not use a go between. When he planned things he left nothing to chance.
Matt had told him O’Malley was only available for a week. A week wasn’t good enough. He intended to change the man’s mind. He wasn’t accustomed to not getting what he wanted. And he was not accustomed to begging either.
“You don’t like me,” Warren said as he entered the apartment. He smelled food. A microwave dinner was on the counter with steam rising from the black plastic container.
“Does it matter?” Sam grabbed his beer and perched on the stool. He tipped the bottle to his head, watching Prescott lingering at the door.
“It would make things easier.” Warren moved into the living room and waited for Sam to offer him a seat. The invitation didn’t come. “My daughter is my world. She belongs at the estate, but at the moment she chooses to live elsewhere. I’ll do whatever I can to protect her from the bastard who wants to hurt her. At the moment, that means having you on our side.”
“I’m no bodyguard. Matt and I just had a discussion. Since I’m in between jobs, I’ve given him a week of my time. After that, you can get someone to chauffeur your Princess around.”
“I want you until this threat is over. Matt says you’re good at what you do. I’m willing to pay.”
“You don’t have enough money in the world to keep me on your payroll. You don’t own me either. I made a promise to Matt, not you. One week and I’m done.”
Warren sat down on the sofa, leaned back and signed heavily. His hands were shaking. To show weakness to anyone was not something he was accustom to.
“My daughter is all I have, Mr. O’Malley. Someone wants to hurt her. It could be because they’re trying to get back at me, I don’t know. I’ve not been kind to a lot of people.”
“I’m sure you and Matt can work it all out after the week is up.”
“No!” He slammed his clenched fist into his open palm. “The reason why she ran into your car was because her brakes failed. Someone tampered with her car.”
Sam put the beer down on the counter. Warren noticed that he hadn’t moved from the spot since he’d entered the apartment. He gave the impression that he was relaxed, but Warren knew better.
“I gave you my answer. We’ve nothing further to discuss. Why are you still here?”
Warren wasn’t used to losing control and took a minute compose himself all under the intense scrutiny of Samuel O’Malley. Nothing but honesty would appeal to the man staring at him. He could sense it. They had a lot in common, but if he said that right now, O’Malley would laugh in his face.
“You remind me of myself when I was your age. I was angry at the world, but that anger got me where I am today. I’ll be damned if I’m going to apologize for my success. I’ve earned it. I deserve it. What I don’t deserve is your contempt. At least not yet.”
Warren saw a green shadow at the corner of his eye crawling quickly toward the bedroom. Sam turned his head toward the bedroom to see what he was engrossed in. The thick green iguana stopped half way down the hallway, staring at the two men
.
“Prescott, meet Elvira. Matt’s sense of humor.”
He turned his attention back to Sam. “You asked why I’m here. It’s simple. To protect my daughter and I’ll do so at any cost. Matt trusts you to take care of her and that’s good enough for me. Also, my daughter hates you. And if nothing else comes from this, you can get her back for wrecking your car.”
That brought a smile to Sam’s face. He got up from the counter and sat down in the armchair across from Prescott, but didn’t respond to what he’d just said. When Warren looked toward the bedroom again the iguana was gone. At that moment he felt unsure of himself. He’d felt that way once when his wife had passed away.
“Why go outside for help? What about your bodyguard? He seems competent. And Matt?”
He shook his head. “Colt travels with me full time. Besides, my daughter has everyone wrapped around her fingers, including Colt and Matt. I have a feeling you may not be so easily swayed by her. She’ll be well protected.”
He grunted.
“I know you two got off on the wrong foot, but once you get to know her, you’ll like her.”
Sam grunted again. Prescott couldn’t read his expression. What was clear by his attitude—he didn’t care for Alexandria. He didn’t want to have anything to do with her, but too bad. His daughter will be protected and he would do whatever it took to make it happen, even if it meant saddling her with someone she couldn’t stand.
“She’s at the estate. She’s still a bit shaken from the car accident this morning. Come by tomorrow and we can all talk about our arrangement.”
“Your daughter will never go for it.”
“I can handle her.”
“I never said I’d go beyond the week.”
“You never said you wouldn’t either.”
• • •
White Musk.
The scent floated off the red silk scarf filling the interior of the brown four-door sedan. Closing his eyes for a moment, he allowed his mind to wander, imagining Alexandria Prescott sitting next to him.
Talking to him.
Touching him.
Kissing him.
The engine spluttered, interrupting the warm feeling that wrapped itself around him like a cocoon. His eyes flew open and he rubbed them to focus. Hot air shot from the air conditioning vent and fiddling with the button didn’t help. The sound of crickets filled his ears when he shut off the air conditioner and opened the window. Except for a stray dog, the street was virtually empty.
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