Kiss Kiss Bang
Page 3
Oh God, he was, wasn’t he?
But she tamped down the desire to agree to go out with him and instead said, “I can’t.” It was barely audible and it was absolutely not confident. It almost sounded like a question.
He leaned in. His nose grazed her ear and her heart rate picked up and her pulse started to race. She should push him away. She should step back. Instead, she was unable to speak, which was not at all like her. Usually she spoke. She spoke a lot. And often and confidently. But this was the second time that evening he’d left her speechless. And, truth be told, breathless.
She closed her eyes and wet her lips knowing he was going to kiss her. But then she felt the heat of his body leave and she opened her eyes as he handed her back her computer.
Then he reached around her, her body sandwiched between him and her Lexus, and opened her door. The man knew exactly what he was doing. He was riling her up, driving her wild. It was in the twinkle in those dark and dangerous eyes and the slight upward tilt of the corners of his lips. She moved out of the way to allow him to open the door. “Good night, Livie.”
She cleared her throat. “Good night, Joey.” She was still just staring at him. Not like a professional politician. Not like a single mother. Definitely not like a thirty-five-year-old woman. Like a teenager experiencing her first bout of lust. Or a woman who hadn’t had sex in many many years. She shook her head and slid into her car. He shut the door and tapped the roof twice.
Pulling out of the parking lot, she couldn’t help but glance in her rearview mirror to look at him one last time. They hadn’t exchanged numbers and she hadn’t agreed to go out with him. She immediately regretted it as she watched him, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against his sports car.
But now, as she drove away and thought about the last few hours, she felt disheartened that he hadn’t tried harder to go out with her. A little nudge would have probably had her agreeing to most anything.
Unfortunately, her experience with men, aside from Neil, had mostly been the same. Men didn’t really like strong women, even if they thought they did. And a man like Joey would balk at being with someone like her. One night together—yes. But after that? When she was running around from meeting to meeting, speech to speech? Flinging orders and fighting with everyone who opposed her positions?
And when she wasn’t campaigning, she was spending time with Sophie. Finding time to fit in a relationship was almost impossible and a man could never be a priority. But still, sometimes she wished she could find someone who’d scoop her up and have his way with her and make her his priority, even if he couldn’t necessarily be that for her.
Maybe she did believe in fairy tales after all.
Because a man like that didn’t exist in real life.
CHAPTER THREE
Gubernatorial candidate Olivia Russo is set to unveil her plan to get Florida out of the red without need for more federal assistance at tonight’s fundraising gala. President Hadley is set to attend in support of Russo. There’s been speculation that Russo will steer away from party lines in regard to the Everglades Preservation Project. Amidst declining water conditions due to toxic blue-green algae, Russo is said to support what some consider an “excessive” apportionment to the EPP.
“I’ve had a better time watching paint dry,” Joey whispered into the small microphone while standing in a corner of a huge ballroom in a black suit and crisp white shirt. It was the evening after he’d met Olivia and he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when she saw him at the event. Would she be happy to see him? Would she be upset he hadn’t told her that he was working at the event tonight?
He was still thinking of all things Olivia when Jax spoke into the earpiece. “Says the man who gets a hard-on working on algorithms alone in his office.” Anyone who looked at them wouldn’t know they were talking. They’d been trained to blend into the background, watch, and take mental notes of everyone and everything, but also to exude a certain presence of authority and intimidation, as contradictory as that sounded.
“Numbers are sexy, man. Ask any woman, brother.” Joey’s eyes scanned the entirety of the room as he spoke.
“Anyway, you’re not supposed to be having fun. You’re supposed to be watching and making sure all these people are safe,” Jax said. He continued speaking, this time addressing the rest of their staff. “ICS? How’s everything looking?”
They were “all hands on deck” at the event. A cacophony of “all good” “all clear” came in through the earpiece. Normally, Joey did all the computer-related jobs that came into Iron-Clad Security. They did everything from bodyguard jobs to cybersecurity to covert under-the-radar reconnaissance missions. Most of the time, Joey planned the missions and worked on the computer cases. It wasn’t that he wasn’t muscular and fit , it was that most people just weren’t as muscular and as fit as Jax. It was like comparing Iron Man to the Hulk. Both were capable, but one could cause more damage with just his fist than the other. But just the same, Joey could be lethal. He had been in the Marines and had retired as a major. He was trained and skilled like the rest of the crew and this particular job required everyone on board.
Tonight the president of the United States would be at the campaign event, and ICS had been subcontracted to work alongside the Secret Service. Olivia would be one of the main speakers, and Joey couldn’t wait to see her. Not just to see her, but to listen to her speech, the one she’d been so worried about. Seeing her in her element would be interesting.
He’d never been this excited to take on a job in his life.
He knew she had arrived at the event because he’d heard her name being mentioned by one of the Secret Service guys who was going over the roster of attendees, but he hadn’t seen her yet.
The president had just finished his speech and was shaking hands with some local political figures when movement from the far end of the room caught Joey’s attention. There, looking regal in a long sapphire dress, her dark brown hair up in some sort of fancy hairdo, stood Olivia.
She’d looked fan-fucking-tastic in sweatpants and a messy bun. But she looked absolutely breathtaking in a gown.
He’d seen her on television dozens of times. When they were prepping for this event he’d seen her photographs. Even in pictures the woman was stunning. But nothing—nothing!—compared to seeing her in person, all dressed up.
She was a beacon in the room full of dull politicians. He watched her smile at Arnold Lennar, a very wealthy and well-known party contributor. And the way he was looking at her—it didn’t seem as if he gave one single fuck whether she was for gun rights or wanted to hold hands and sing kumbaya to resolve violence. Hell, the woman could decide she thought cotton candy could solve world peace and Lennar would pull out his wallet and hand her all the money inside of it while marching alongside her.
The only thing that assuaged Joey’s rising jealousy, a jealousy he was not accustomed to feeling, was the way she smiled at Lennar. It was nothing like the way she’d smiled at Joey last night. Tonight, her beautiful green eyes didn’t sparkle. Obviously, she was playing a role, one he’d seen her play on television before. It was one that, perhaps, made her constituents love her and the donors open their checkbooks, but now that he’d met her in person, he knew it was not a genuine smile. Last night, her smile had been real, sincere, bright, soft, and warm. This was . . . nice, but robotic. And the fact that she wasn’t giving Lennar the light she’d given him last night made Joey feel ten feet tall and gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe he hadn’t been the only one who’d felt a connection.
“Protestors outside are getting out of control,” Jax said into his earpiece. “Feds are keeping them out, but keep an eye on the east doors. I’m getting concerned.”
Joey moved his view from Olivia to the door. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, although it was hard to say with the crowd being as large as it was. However, Jax had a notorious sixth sense and when he got a “bad feeling” it was
usually spot-on. He moved closer to the east entrance, which brought him closer to Olivia. If something went down, he wanted to make sure she was covered.
The lights flickered, an indication that the five - thousand - dollar - a - plate meal was about to be served. It was a relief because it would be easier to monitor the room when everyone was sitting rather than loitering around. Joey glanced at Olivia, who glided across the room with a handful of people speaking to her, but none of them seemed to be a date of any kind. In fact, he’d noted when he’d looked her up that there had not been one photo of her with any man since Neil. She always went to these events alone or with Mark Roe, her campaign advisor, or at times with her good friend Winnie Peterson.
Tonight, she’d walked in with Mark. Since meeting her yesterday, Joey had done an unhealthy and slightly creepy amount of research on her. He had learned that Mark wasn’t only her advisor, he was also a friend of Neil, and someone who seemed to really care about her and her daughter.
He watched her put her little purse on the table and sit down with a warm smile, Mark to her right and a woman he knew to be a state rep named Wanda on her left.
He wanted to approach her. Say something. But he was working, and really, now that he’d seen her in her element—with her people, wearing her “clothes,” in command of a room full of politicians—what would he say to her? Last night she’d been cute and vulnerable and he’d really liked her. Today, watching her from across the room, he felt unsure. Not unsure as to whether he liked her, unsure as to whether she would like him. She was so smart, so beautiful, so sophisticated . . .
Maybe it was the way she’d been dressed or that she’d been a wreck over her broken computer, but last night it had been easy to talk to her. Today, he had to admit that she looked intimidating as she controlled the room with her presence. He’d never felt self-conscious before.
He continued surveilling the room as the salad was served and another dull politician took the stage to speak. She was set last on the itinerary, during dessert.
Olivia was looking up at the speaker instead of eating, and he thought he saw her stifle a yawn, which made him chuckle.
Unable to resist, he pulled out his phone and sent her a text. Thought you’d be wolfing that salad by now. Green, leafy, came from dirt . . . He pressed send and looked at her.
A moment later she inconspicuously pulled out her phone from her tiny purse. A smile spread across her face and she looked around. Mark whispered something to her and she shook her head and looked back up at the speaker but kept her phone on her lap.
Who’s this? she answered when no one seemed to be looking.
You know who this is.
Are you here? Should I be worried you’re a stalker?
He smiled. Working. East corner, by the exceptionally pretentious ice sculpture.
Carefully she looked at her phone but didn’t look back right away. His heart beat as he waited what felt like an eternity. Finally, she fumbled with her hair as she stole a glance over her shoulder. Eventually her eyes found him and a slow genuine smile lit her face.
The smile.
Fucking brilliant.
Then she looked down and typed. You should know that a lady such as myself would never wolf anything.
Again, Mark leaned over and said something in her ear and she sat up a little straighter and put the phone back into her purse.
She was working.
And so was he.
He needed to remember he was there to do a job. An important job. Not to flirt and text like an idiot. He slid his phone back into his tuxedo pocket.
“Shit’s getting ugly outside,” Jax said into the earpiece. “Feds are gonna get the president out. Party’s over, boys.”
Damn it.
He looked back to where Olivia sat. If shit got bad, it would be hard to get her out with five hundred people running around frantically. He wasn’t supposed to be tailing her specifically, but she was one of the most important and vulnerable people in the room, along with a few other high-level politicians.
She got up and moved toward the restrooms. His eyes followed her out of the room, and right before she disappeared into the hall, she glanced back and their eyes met.
Fuck.
His feet moved of their own accord. “Cover me, Ben,” he said into his microphone as he casually walked back to the hall, which was mostly empty. “I’m going to get Russo out of here.”
“Russo?” Jax said. “The one running for governor? She has her own guard.”
He knew that too. Along with the feds and ICS, some of the politicians had their own bodyguards. But fuck that. Her bodyguard was shit if he wasn’t following her out to the bathroom. He should have eyes on her 24/7.
Just as she was about to open the door to the restroom he caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, causing her to turn around.
“Hi,” she said, sounding breathless.
She didn’t look surprised he’d stopped her, in fact she looked happy. Very happy, actually. He blurted out, “You are so fucking beautiful.”
Her fair skin pinked and her smile widened for him, her bangs falling on her eyes.
She playfully slapped his shoulder. “Compared to the crazy woman you met yesterday . . .”
“No. Compared to every other woman in the room. Hell, compared to every other woman period.”
She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off. “We need to go.”
Her smile immediately faded, her eyes wide and her brows furrowed. “Go? Where?”
“There’s a mob outside. A very pissed-off group. At least seventy-five, some wearing Kevlar, which makes me think they’re armed. They’re rowdy, throwing things, tipping over garbage cans. It’s getting hard to keep them out.”
“Really?” she asked, looking around as if that would answer all the questions she had.
“Yes, really. Come on, there’s a service elevator this way.” He took her hand and pulled her down the hall.
“Wait. My speech. I’ll be on soon. And Mark? He’ll be worried.”
“Speeches are canceled, darlin’. And you can call Mark as soon as you’re out of harm’s way.”
He pressed the button for the elevator. She followed him inside once it opened, then he pressed the button for the garage. “Where’s your bodyguard?” he asked.
“Tom went out for a smoke.”
Joey shook his head.
“I told him it was all right. There’s so much security here tonight. I didn’t think there’d be a problem.”
“At a political fundraiser with the president as a guest?”
“Exactly!” she said, exasperatedly. “The president’s here, and there’s a lot of security. He’s a smoker. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.” She was chewing her nail now.
Jax came in through the earpiece. “Joey, where are you? Need you out on the east door, stat.”
“Shit,” he groaned, tapping his earpiece just as the elevator jolted to a stop.
* * *
Butterflies were fluttering violently in Olivia’s belly.
When Joey’d texted her and then she’d turned around and seen him, the stupid grin on her face must have been obvious from across the room.
He was a breath of fresh air in a room full of bullshit and hypocrisy. And then when his hand had landed on her wrist as she was about to walk into the restroom, goose bumps had erupted all over her body. She had hoped he’d follow her to the bathroom, away from all the prying eyes. And he hadn’t disappointed.
And when he had stood close to her and told her, with such intensity, that she looked beautiful, she had almost pulled him into the bathroom, locked the door behind them, and screwed him senseless. Or at least that’s what she had momentarily fantasized about doing.
Funnily enough, tonight she’d been complemented a handful of times by very attractive and powerful men, but they had all sounded disingenuous. When Joey had said it, though . . . God, it had felt passionate and real and she felt it right to t
he pit of her soul.
And then it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her head in the form of orders being barked into Joey’s ear piece. Lust was replaced by fear as she followed him into an elevator.
And now she was stumbling forward as the elevator came to a sudden halt, strong hands catching her before she hit the back wall.
“There’s trouble outside.” His mouth was close to her ear when he spoke.
“Oh God, are we stuck?” her heart rate picked up. “I—I, uh . . . I’m claustrophobic.”
The lights flickered.
“I’m with Russo in the service elevators. Stuck between the third and fourth floor. Table two, go find Mark Roe and inform him of the situation.” He spoke into his right shoulder, where there must’ve been a mic somewhere.
“Joey. I need to get off.”
Her phone began to ring a moment later, and with shaking hands she pulled it out of her purse. “Mark? I’m in an elevator. Oh God, Mark, it’s stuck . . . yeah . . . um . . . Joey . . . Right. Okay. Okay. ” She swiped it closed. “Mark says that they canceled the event and someone named Jax and a federal agent confirmed our whereabouts. Mark says I’m safe with you.”
“He’s my partner. You saw him briefly last night. Did you not think I was safe?”
“I don’t know!” she yelled, looking around the small room as if there were some way of getting out of there. “Yes. No. I just met you yesterday!”
She wasn’t really listening. She grabbed his lapel in a panic. He pulled her close instead of pushing her off of him. With the hysterical way she was acting, it would have been justifiable for him to keep his distance, considering that she was right: they barely knew each other. But he ran his palm up and down her back soothingly.
“Just a few minutes and they’ll get us out. Take a deep breath for me, darlin’. Are you afraid of me or the elevator?”
“The elevator. I can’t breathe.”
“Yes you can,” he said soothingly.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, over and over. “Our date will not involve elevators,” he whispered into her ear once she started feeling a little less frazzled.