by Lucy Score
“Jim,” Xavier greeted him with a nod. Jim looked like a very tall, very strong Stevie Wonder, but he spoke like a librarian in the stacks.
“We may have a sighting of that sub you briefed us on,” Jim said quietly.
Xavier felt a boost of adrenaline. “Is he still here?”
Jim nodded. “I came straight up. If you have time, you can confirm,” Jim said, gesturing toward the stairwell door behind them.
Xavier glanced at the door and back at Waverly who was engaged in another conversation, this time with the host of the ceremony and the man’s husband.
“I can keep an eye while you head down,” Jim offered.
“Let me introduce you first,” Xavier decided. Jim followed him across the room to Waverly. She took one look at Xavier’s face and smoothly excused herself.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Xavier assured her. “Waverly, this is Jim. He’s going to be hanging out up here with you for a few minutes, okay?”
“Hi, Jim,” Waverly said, distractedly offering her hand. “Where are you going?”
“Security downstairs may have spotted Ganim in the crowd.”
Waverly’s eyes widened. “Here? Wedding Dress Guy is here?”
“We don’t know for sure. I’m going down to see if I can spot him. I need you to stay here with Jim. Okay?”
Waverly looked like she was going to argue with him.
“I mean it, Angel. Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He knew he had her when her bottom lip poked out just a bit. It was another one of her tells.
“Be careful,” she warned him.
Xavier nodded and turned back to Jim.
“Just ask for Ricardo down there. He’ll hook you up.”
“Thanks, Jim. Keep an eye on her,” he said, jerking his thumb at Waverly. “She’s sneaky.”
Waverly rolled her eyes and Xavier winked at her.
Downstairs he found a makeshift security hub commandeering the section just left of the entrance. Ricardo was as short as Jim was tall, and he moved in quick, jerky movements.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he nodded vigorously at Xavier. “Saint. Jimbo said he’d send you down. We got a possible suspect a few rows back behind the barricade. Black ball cap and a Texans t-shirt.”
He tapped the screen of a security monitor showing a live feed of the crowd on the right hand side of the red carpet. “Can’t tell on this piece a’ crap. But Jim spotted him when he was doing a sweep outside.”
“Mind if I take a look out there?” Xavier asked, fully intending to do so regardless of the answer.
“Have at it,” Ricardo nodded. “Grab a walkie so you can let us know if you need backup.”
Xavier snagged a radio out of the charger, slipped on his sunglasses, and ambled out the door. He’d make it look like a routine sweep. He walked down the inside of the barricade behind the mini makeshift stages where entertainment reporters had recorded interviews with new arrivals. The crowd started up against the front of the wing of the museum, still several rows deep despite the fact that it had been hours since anyone had arrived. He took his time scanning each face, running it against the pictures of Ganim he’d memorized.
He was almost done with the sweep when the black ball cap caught his eye. He was further back from the barricades now and not very tall so it was harder to spot him. He was looking down at his hands, probably at a phone.
Come on, buddy, look up. Let me see your face.
He could only stare into the crowd so long before someone caught on that there was an issue, and he didn’t want Ganim to get nervous and run. If he could get to the man, he could detain him, ask him some questions, and alert the cops if there was any trouble. But he knew full well that no action would be taken until Ganim made some kind of move. There was nothing illegal about mailing a wedding dress.
“Come here often?” The question came slyly from a woman in overalls clutching an “I HEART DANTE” sign.
Xavier pretended not to hear her, and the man in the hat finally turned. He got a hit on the profile. Ninety percent sure it was him.
“Come on. Come on,” Xavier muttered. “Show me.”
His radio squawked. “Any familiar faces out there, Saint?” Ricardo’s voice crackled.
“Got a possible,” Xavier answered back. Only one way to find out, he decided. “Hey, Ganim!” he shouted over the din of the crowd. Ball Cap lifted his head and looked Xavier in the eyes. Those dark, empty eyes widened. Xavier could see the thoughts swirling for a full second before the man spun around and took off at a dead run.
Xavier knew that jumping the barricade and fighting his way through the crowd was futile. Instead, he sprinted down the remainder of the red carpet into the street and fought his way through the line of limos and cars parked on the street. By the time he ran behind the crowd, Ganim was gone, lost in the bustle of Wilshire.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
“Missed him?” Ricardo skidded to a stop next to him, not even breathing heavily.
“Yeah,” Xavier straightened. “It was definitely him, though. Good eyes on your team’s part.”
Ricardo shrugged jerkily. “Most action we get at these things are cat fights and coked up D-listers tryin’ to get in. Maybe once in a while a bum takes a piss on some signage. Was nice to have something to do,” he said. “Expectin’ trouble from him?”
“Always a possibility,” Xavier said mildly as Ricardo led the way around to a side door, keyed in the entry code. Xavier’s phone signaled in his jacket.
“Kate,” he said by way of a greeting.
“Hey, X Factor. I just got a Facebook message from Les Creeper. He’s there. He sent a pic of the museum and said he’s waiting outside for Waverly. I think it’s for real.”
He could hear the edginess in her voice.
“He was here, but ran before I could talk to him,” Xavier told her.
“So Wave’s safe?”
“She’s hanging out with the equivalent of a big, black brick wall that isn’t going to let anyone near her.”
Kate blew out a breath in his ear. “That makes me feel better. What should I do with the message?”
“Don’t respond. Just send me a screenshot of it. I’ll add it to the file. I can take it to the cops, make sure they’re aware of the situation. But—”
“But they still won’t be able to make a move until he does something creeper-ier.”
“Exactly. Send me the screenshot. I’m going to go find Angel.”
“Thanks for sticking, Saint.”
“Yeah.” He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
He gave the carpet and crowd the once over again. Both sides of the red carpet were lined with TV cameras and production crews. On the far side, there was one camera facing the right direction, he noted. It would have been directly across from Ganim. He crossed the carpet and stopped near a production assistant who was kneeling down packing up equipment.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“What?” She slammed the top on a stainless steel case and looked up at him. Irritation shifted to surprise. “I mean, uh, how can I help you?” She shoved a hand through her frizzy dishwater hair, yanking out the tie that held her ponytail in place. She lost her balance and fell backward, rapping her elbow sharply on the case.
Xavier held out a hand and hauled her to her feet while she cursed.
“Shit. Ouch. Damn it,” she muttered, scrubbing her hands over her plaid shirt and jeans.
She wore tortoise shell glasses and had a slight gap between her two front teeth. The blush that was working its way over her face could have ignited a forest fire.
Xavier boosted the charm. “Sorry for startling you, but I need your help.”
She was nodding, her mouth slightly open.
“I’m sorry,” Xavier said, flashing her a smile. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m Xavier. Xavier Saint.�
� He offered her his hand.
When she just continued to nod at him he took her hand and shook it.
The contact seemed to bring her back from her reverie. “Saint. Uh-huh. Right.”
“I’m here on a security job, and we just had a little incident over there a few minutes ago,” he gestured at the crowd behind them. “I was hoping you could get me a copy of the footage you shot today.”
Her eyes blinked behind her glasses. “Footage. Uh-huh.”
“What’s your name?” Xavier asked.
She visibly shook herself. “Amy. I’m Amy,” she told him.
“Amy,” Xavier smiled down at her. “Would you be willing to do that? I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”
“Trouble? No,” she shook her head violently from side to side. “No trouble. Do you need all the footage? We shot a lot and it’s mostly skinny women talking about dress designers.”
“I’m looking for any crowd shots you’d have. And it’s gotta be kept pretty quiet. Client privacy, you know?”
She stopped shaking and started nodding. “Sure. I can do that. Yeah.”
Xavier reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. “You can reach me at any of these numbers. Let me know if you have any trouble with your bosses. I really appreciate it, Amy. Really.”
When he walked into the building a few minutes later, he was already formulating a game plan. Ganim had made a move, and it was enough to convince Xavier the man was a credible threat. He’d get the footage, compile the report, and pay a visit to Micah’s detective friend. Getting the ball rolling on that end now would make it easier to press charges if Ganim tried anything serious.
A flurry of activity near the security desk caught his attention.
Waverly.
“What the hell, X?” she pushed away from the chair that Jim was trying to make her sit in. “You disappear to check out a security threat and then tell me nothing? I have to hear from Kate who isn’t even here that you chased some guy out of the crowd?”
Xavier grabbed her arm and started dragging her toward the stairwell. “I told you to stay upstairs.” He shoved the door open, pushed her inside.
“And I did,” she snapped. “Until I didn’t hear from you. And then I see you’re hanging out outside flirting.”
He pushed her up on the first step of the stairwell so they were eye-to-eye. “When I tell you to do something, Angel, you do it.”
He was working his way up to being good and pissed. Not only had he had and missed a shot at talking to Ganim, but he now had to reiterate for the millionth time that he was in charge. “I’m protecting you, not controlling you. The sooner you get that through your thick skull, the better for us both.”
“I don’t like being left in the dark.”
“I was coming back upstairs when I got waylaid.”
“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Waverly shot back, her tone laced with sarcasm.
Xavier gripped the railings on both sides so he wouldn’t give in to the desire to strangle her. “Now who’s the jealous one?” he asked coolly. For a second, he thought she was going to slap him. He could read the impulse in the flash of anger in those beautiful gray-green eyes.
But she pulled it back inside, and her expression shifted imperceptibly until she looked bored. “It’s none of my business what you do or who you do it with.”
He showed his teeth. “Well, isn’t it too bad that what you do and who you do it with is my business.”
“We’ll see about that, X.”
Before he could argue, she was pushing her way past him.
“I’m ready to leave now.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “That is, if you’re done with your friend out there.”
Xavier followed her out of the stairwell taking slow deep breaths. He’d never wanted to throttle someone so much in his entire life. And he wouldn’t be able to get away with it here. Too many witnesses.
He texted the driver while Waverly sashayed off toward the security desk. He watched her shake Jim’s hand and then take a few minutes to chat with the rest of the team, signing autographs and posing for pictures. There wasn’t a hint of temper on her face, at least not until she shot a look at him that would have had a lesser man withering in his shoes.
But Xavier Saint was no lesser man, and he would put her in her place…even if it killed him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was a chilly, silent ride home. Waverly stayed glued to the limo door and refused to even glance in Xavier’s direction. The man’s expertise at pissing her off continued to reach new heights. And her overwhelming awareness of him sitting just inches away pissed her off.
Why couldn’t she just ignore him? Tune him out? Pretend he didn’t exist? And why did it bother her that he’d been turning on the charm with someone else. They didn’t even like each other. Yet when she’d spotted him on the security monitor grinning down at the adorably disheveled tech, she’d felt a sharp flare of something she didn’t like.
Waverly stewed in her thoughts even as Xavier obliviously texted next to her. Her phone rang in her Ferragamo clutch. Her mother, of course.
“Hi, Mom,” Waverly answered, biting back a sigh.
“Darling! I’m coming to meet you at whatever fabulous after party you’re headed to. Just text me the address,” Sylvia chirped in her ear. That manic level of happiness was often reached by her third martini. That’s when everything became a party to Sylvia.
“I’m actually headed home. I have a huge headache.” She glanced at Xavier. It was the truth. It was a man-sized headache.
“But, Waverly!” her mother wailed. “I just put on a new dress, and I can’t think of the last time you and I went to a party together.”
It was two years ago, and Waverly had to drive her mother home in a borrowed car because Sylvia had gotten so drunk she couldn’t stand up.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Waverly said. “We’ll go out another time. Why don’t you and Dad go out to dinner tonight instead? Make him buy you something shiny.”
“Well…”
She could hear Sylvia weighing her options.
“I did see the most adorable little convertible the other day,” her mother mused out loud.
Waverly knew she was off the hook this time. Although her father might kill her. But he would do what he always did, go along with Sylvia’s demands affably until something shinier or younger or more adoring came along.
She declined her mother’s invitation to join them, told her to have fun, and hung up. She wanted to close her eyes and lean against the leather of the seats. But that would be a tell, a sign of weakness. And she wasn’t about to give Xavier yet another one.
Her stomach reminded her of its emptiness with a yawning growl. There was nothing in her fridge at home, and she didn’t want to chance sneaking into her parents’ kitchen for a snack in case they tried to wrangle her into dinner and car shopping.
Her only other option sat next to her.
Waverly closed her eyes and took an inaudible breath. “Could you please ask the driver to take us through a drive-thru?” she asked in a frostily polite tone.
“No.” Xavier said without looking up from his phone.
“No?” Waverly blinked.
“No.”
“There’s a taco place coming up on the next block,” she informed him.
Xavier slid his phone back in his jacket and sighed. “We don’t have time. I need to report to your parents before they leave and then run some errands.”
Report to her parents? The man couldn’t even tell her what happened with her own potential stalker. But he could go running to her parents’. If there had been any doubt before, Xavier’s loyalties were now clear. Her parents’ signed the checks, and he would do whatever they asked. Including holding her prisoner.
She’d had enough of the prisoner routine. And it had been a while since she’d escaped. Waverly fired off a text to Kate.
Up for a nice, quiet evening in?
The response came a few seconds later.
Sure, but are you sure that’s the best idea with Creeper running around?
Waverly’s thumbs flew over the screen.
I’m desperate. It’s either this or you lock me up in a mental hospital.
She waited for a response. Waverly could practically feel Kate’s indecision. Listen to Xavier and keep Waverly on a short leash, or let her friend blow off some steam?
Ugh. Fine. But you owe me and if Creeper murders you I’m going to be really pissed.
Waverly’s lips turned up at the corner. Freedom was just a few miles away.
--------
When the car came to a stop in her parents’ driveway, Waverly hopped out without waiting for Xavier. She just had to play the part for a few more minutes and then she could finally relax.
Xavier got out on the other side of the car. “Waverly,” he called to her.
She turned. “What?”
“You’re not going anywhere for the rest of the night.”
He made what should have been a question sound like a command.
They both turned when Kate’s Explorer pulled into the drive and skirted the limo to park in front of the garage. Kate bounced out, pizza box in hand, and waved.
“Just a quiet night in,” Waverly told Xavier.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Waverly gave him a curt nod with a chilly glare. She waved to the driver and practically skipped toward the pool house.
She found Kate inside, spreading out pizza and paper and a rainbow of colored pencils on the table.
Waverly threw herself at her friend’s feet. “Oh my God, you’re the best! Now take off your clothes.”
Ten minutes later, fortified by a slice of Kate’s pizza and her friend’s sweatshirt and baseball hat, Waverly bounced from foot to foot in the kitchen.
“Kate, he’s never leaving!” she moaned as she willed Xavier’s SUV to pull out of the driveway from the security feed on her phone.