Protecting the Heiress

by Martha Kennerson

  “Do I? I thought you were going to kill everyone in the hospital when they tried to stop you from seeing her.” Robert smirked.

  Meeks nodded his head slowly. He couldn’t remember how many laws he broke just driving to the hospital. “I wanted to,” he replied.

  “I bet,” Robert said.

  Meeks turned back to face the window. “I wasn’t with her that day. I couldn’t protect her. I really don’t know what I would have done if I...if I’d lost her.”

  Robert pushed out a breath as he ran his right hand through his hair. “I get that. But no matter how careful we are, there are some things we can’t control, like our feelings.”

  Meeks returned to his desk. “I just—”

  Robert stood and leveled his sights on his friend. “Just talk to her, man.”

  No matter how great the attraction or potential for a future there could be, having a woman...a wife...in constant danger wasn’t an option. Regardless to how hard it was going to be, Meeks knew he had to keep things between him and Francine professional.

  Chapter 7

  Francine looked at her sister’s smiling face and put up her hand to stop the verbal barrage she knew was coming. “Don’t say one word. Nothing happened.” Francine returned to her desk and haphazardly began to move papers around.

  “I wasn’t going to say a thing,” Farrah said as she entered the office and took the seat in front of her sister’s desk.

  “I mean...he started to kiss me,” she continued. “At least, I think he was going to kiss me.”

  Farrah’s eyebrow shot up. “You think? If you don’t know, it really has been too long.”

  “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It didn’t happen, and it’s not going to.” Francine sat down, put her head in her hands and shook it.

  “Are you upset about what almost happened or what didn’t happen?” Farrah questioned.

  Francine gave her a noncommittal shrug.

  “Look at me, Francine,” Farrah commanded.

  Francine raised her head and slowly dropped her hands to her desk, giving her baby sister her undivided attention.

  “Do you remember that summer when we were six and Meeks was thirteen? It was the first summer we spent with him and Matt at the beach house.”

  “Of course I do,” she said, smiling at the memory.

  “Do you remember how we tried to play tricks on them by switching our identity? Our eyes were still basically the same color, so besides Mom, Dad and Mary, no one could tell us apart.”

  “No one but Meeks,” Francine offered.

  “No, he could always tell you apart from me and Felicia. No matter what we did,” Farrah said, crossing her arms. “It was like you two were connected or something. We tried to trick him every summer until we were eleven, the summer before he left for college.”

  Francine smiled. “He did always know which one was me, didn’t he?” she murmured to herself.

  “Remember our eighteenth birthday party?” Farrah asked with a raised eyebrow. “Meeks spent most of the night staring at you and giving warning glares to anyone that danced too long or close to you.”

  Both sisters laughed. “Yeah, it took me forever to realize why no one wanted to slow dance with me. Not even little Jimmy Taylor, who was fifteen and barely reached my shoulders, would accept my offer.”

  “And do I need to remind you of what a disaster our twenty-first birthday bash turned out to be because of Meeks? He’d convinced Dad we needed extra security there since we’d gained access to our trust funds,” Farrah asked.

  “As much as I’ve enjoyed this little walk down memory lane, what’s your point?”

  Farrah leaned forward. “My point is, the man has loved you forever, even if he didn’t know it. If you’re honest with yourself, I think you’ve loved him just as long. You should try talking this out with Meeks. I want you to be happy,” she advised.

  “But what if...” Francine shook her head.

  “If what?” Farrah asked, frowning.

  “I don’t deny that for a long time there’s been this crazy attraction or something going on between us—”

  “Crazy attraction or something!” Farrah said, laughing. “The chemistry between you two could light up downtown.”

  “But what if that’s all this is? Even if we could find a way to put our business differences aside, what if this thing turns out to be a phase and we ruin things between us?”

  “But what if it turns out to be something wonderful? You can’t keep avoiding your feelings.”

  Francine sat up straighter and took a deep breath. “I really appreciate what you’re trying to do and I promise it won’t affect the business. We’re both professionals, and we won’t let a little sexual tension get in the way of getting the job done.” She shifted some papers on the desk. “I’ve seen a few of the women he’s dated and I’m not his type. I’m happy with my life just the way it is.”

  “Whatever you say,” Farrah said, her expression doubtful as she got up from the chair and headed to the door. “We have an event to get ready for, so unless you’ve changed your mind about taking point...”

  “I’ve done no such thing.” Francine picked up her briefcase, placed it on her desk and began placing files into it. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, and we can head over to Tiffany’s place together.”

  “Fine, just think about what I’ve said. Communicating with someone doesn’t always have to be verbal. A gesture here, a look there, just might do the trick. You know how observant Meeks is, especially when it comes to you. It’s time to light a match to that long fuse you two have been hanging on to for so long. Keep in mind that Tiffany’s hosting an after party for the media, cast members and a few of her friends after the movie preview,” she said, opening the door. “So be sure to dress for the occasion.”

  “Speaking of chemistry and fuses, what’s going on with you and Robert? Things seem...different between you two,” Francine asked, her face marred in confusion.

  “Now that’s a conversation for another time,” she said as she left her sister’s office.

  Francine shook her head as she reached for her ringing phone and smiled. “Hi, Daddy.”

  Frank Blake, the girls’ father and current chairman of the board of Blake & Montgomery, was on the line. “Hello, sweetheart, got a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the next board meeting.”

  “Dad, I can’t do this with you right now,” she said, shaking her head.

  He laughed. “You said you had a minute, and that was barely three seconds ago.”

  Francine sighed and sat on the edge of her desk. “All right...go ahead.”

  “Look, sweetheart, now that you’ve taken on this Tiffany woman as a client, you’re going to have to be prepared to convince the board why you think handling clients of that magnitude is right for us. Otherwise, she could very well be our first and last superstar patron.”

  Francine took a deep breath and released it slowly before she spoke. “Dad, we’ve gone over this a million times already. Expanding our personal security business to include celebrities was the next logical step in our company’s growth and as CEO of our company, it’s my duty to look toward our future.”

  “I realize that, but the risk to everyone’s safety, especially yours, just seems too great. Not to mention all the unwanted attention that comes with dealing with celebrities. As chairman of the board, it’s my job to ensure that whatever direction you want to take the organization is what’s best for us all.”

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere, and I’ve got to go.”

  “All right, but just so you know, at next quarter’s board meeting, I’ll be bringing the celebrity protection line of business up for review, and if I’m not happy with what I hear, I’ll ca
ll for a vote to eliminate it. And sweetheart, I’ll have the votes,” he said.

  Francine knew that that was a real possibility. With the way the stock had been divided and the current split decision over the celebrity issue, it would be up to the board to decide which direction the company went. The way it stood now, her dad had all the votes he needed.

  “I wouldn’t count those chickens just yet, Dad,” Francine said with as much confidence as she could muster.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, laughing.

  Her father’s robust laugh always made her smile, even when she felt like crying. Francine could imagine his two-hundred-pound, six-foot body shaking as he laughed while running a hand through his curly black hair.

  “Goodbye, sweetheart. I love you. Please be careful,” he said.

  “Goodbye, Dad. I love you, too. Tell Mom I love her.”

  “Will do.”

  Francine disconnected the call and placed her phone on the desk. She stood and picked up the file she’d removed earlier from her wall safe labeled Board of Directors—Top Secret and smiled. “No, Dad, I wouldn’t count those chickens just yet,” she repeated to herself.

  Chapter 8

  Francine looked up from the document she held when a knock on the door drew her attention.

  Kelly stood in the doorway waiting for permission to enter. “Excuse me, Ms. Blake.”

  “Yes, Kelly, what can I do for you?” Francine replied, sliding the papers into her briefcase.

  “I apologize for the interruption, but your sister asked me to give you a message that she told me to read to you word for word.” Kelly unfolded the pink piece of paper she was holding and recited, “Cine, I’ve decided to head over to Tiffany’s place early with Robert so we can meet up with Danny. I want to get the lay of the land, as well as get the field portion of my assessment over with. I left you a voice mail message, but I figured you’d be too busy to check...”

  Francine grimaced and picked up her phone and saw that she had in fact missed a call from both of her sisters, as well as from several clients.

  “...and wouldn’t get it until it was too late, hence the need for Kelly to read it to you. See you at Tiffany’s later.”

  Kelly released a breath and held the message toward Francine.

  “Thank you, Kelly. If there’s nothing else?” she said, taking the message and placing it on her desk.

  “No, ma’am,” she quickly replied.

  “Well, you can go and have a nice evening.”

  “Thanks, and you, too, Ms. Blake,” Kelly said as she slowly walked backward out of the office.

  Francine dropped her phone into the case that was attached to her hip and returned to the task of powering down her computer when there was another knock on her office door. This time she didn’t bother looking up. “Forget something, Kelly?”

  “It’s not Kelly, and I don’t forget anything,” the voice replied.

  Francine’s body stilled, but all her female senses went on high alert. With that almost-kiss lingering in her thoughts, her body’s response was almost immediate.

  “Meeks,” Francine whispered.

  “Yes...it’s Meeks,” he said. He leaned against the doorway and stared at her.

  Francine straightened and gave him a brief glance, while trying not to give him too big of a smile. “Sorry, I thought Kelly had come back,” she explained as she continued to pack up her briefcase, no longer paying attention to what she was actually taking.

  “So I gathered,” Meeks said, placing his hands in his pockets. “You taking your stapler home?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” Francine said, placing her right hand on her hip. “What can I do for you?”

  Meeks grinned. “I won’t keep you, but since we’re the security detail and we’re walking the red carpet together, I wanted to know if you would like to ride over to Tiffany’s place together. I’ll drive.”

  “Of course you will,” Francine murmured.

  “Excuse me?” Meeks said.

  “Nothing. You’re walking the red carpet?” Francine asked, closing and locking her briefcase. “You usually leave those things to one of the senior agents on the cases you work.” She was finally ready to go but made no move to leave.

  “Yeah, well...this case is different. You have a problem with that?” he asked, continuing to stand in the doorway, which was a rare move for Meeks, who always made himself at home in her office whenever he stopped by.

  Stop stalling, she chided herself. He’s obviously back to treating you like a colleague, which is what you wanted...isn’t it? Answer the man.

  “No... I have no problem with that at all.”

  “Good, then I’ll meet you in the lobby in an hour.” He gestured to the bank of elevators. “If you’re ready, I’ll go upstairs with you,” he offered.

  “Such a gentleman,” she teased. Meeks was only offering to accompany her to the floor where their apartments were located to be polite, since safety was the least of their worries in their building. If she didn’t accept, he would know that she was unnerved by his demeanor.

  They rode up the four flights in silence. Within steps, Meeks was at his door and after a brief pause, he said, “See you at seven,” and began to unlock his door.

  Francine watched Meeks disappear behind his door and continued on to her apartment.

  After letting herself into her place and securing the locks, Francine made her way to the kitchen, where she retrieved a bottle of Pinot Grigio from her refrigerator and poured herself half a glass. Francine usually didn’t drink when she worked, but she needed to calm her frayed nerves if she was going to get through the evening, especially since Meeks would be in a tux. The guns and knives he carried as accessories only added to his sexiness.

  Francine took her glass with her into her bedroom. She turned the knobs on the wall as soon as she entered the room, lowering the sheer screen that covered her floor-to-ceiling windows, quickly illuminating the bedroom. Francine took another sip of her wine as she placed her things on her dresser, then turned and smiled at the intricately designed oversize three-dimensional hand-carved maple wood headboard for her king-size bed. It was a masterful piece of art—Francine’s personal design—that had taken two years to complete and was clearly the focal point of the room. Francine took a deep breath and slowly released it before saying, “Exquisite.”

  Francine always seemed to find her place of calm whenever she entered her bedroom. Her ability to create such pieces of art was something she rarely shared with others. This had always been her outlet for stressful situations, from her heavy class loads in school to having to prove she was more than a pretty face with a lot of hair in her male-dominated career choice. The few people who had seen her creations never understood what she got out of working so hard at creating something so wonderful, then refusing to share it openly with others. While all of her designs had been beautiful and unique, this particular piece caught those who saw it off guard. Her sisters just thought she had a big tree growing out of her wall, and its rough texture against the wintergreen paint supported their theory.

  Francine’s phone started dancing around her dresser. She picked it up and smiled as she read the screen.

  “What are you doing calling me from your honeymoon?” Francine asked in a high-pitched voice that surprised even her.

  “Girl, I finally came up for air. Married life is exhausting in a crazy, ‘I can’t get him naked fast enough’ kind of way,” a voice said, laughing.

  “TMI, Paul... TMI,” Francine said, chuckling.

  Paul White was Francine and Farrah’s stylist, personal assistant and best friend. They’d met Paul in high school and in spite of the fact that he had been two years younger than they were and painfully shy, they all clicked immediately. Throughout high school, the girls
had been very protective of Paul, and that still held true today. The Blake girls had always wanted a little brother, and Paul fit the bill perfectly.

  “Look, girl, I just want to remind you not to miss your hair appointment next week. I had to pull a lot of strings to get you in. This new location is extremely popular, so don’t be late either,” Paul said, laughing.

  “Really...where’s John? Shouldn’t you two be doing whatever it is married people do when they’re not going at it like rabbits on their honeymoon?” she asked, lying across her bed and using her hand to hold up her head.

  “He’s taking a nap, and if you listen to me, you can find out firsthand what married people do when we’re ‘not going at it like rabbits,’ as you say. Speaking of which, what’s new on the Meeks front?” he asked.

  “Nothing!”

  “Nothing? That’s not what I hear,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah, what exactly do you hear?” Francine sat up cross-legged in the middle of her bed, reaching for her pencils and sketchpad, smiling at the sketch of a wood chest she was going to make for her baby sister—who was currently working out of the country—as a welcome-home gift.

  “I hear you took on a celebrity personal protection case, and he’s not happy about it.”

  “To say the least. Wait, how did you know that? This case didn’t come up until after you left for Europe.”

  “I have my sources,” he said, using what he called his Deep Throat voice, which he used only when he was teasing her and her sisters.

  “You’re so silly,” Francine said, giggling. “Look, you have a honeymoon to get back to, and I have an event to get ready for.”

  “Event? What event?” Paul asked excitedly.

  “So your sources aren’t that great after all, I see,” Francine said.

  “Whatever. Where are you going and more importantly, what are you wearing? I can’t have you going out looking all crazy.”

  Francine rolled her eyes. “I realize my brilliant stylist is on his honeymoon, but I got this. And if you must know, it’s a movie premiere and party.”