Protecting the Enemy (The Protectors)

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Protecting the Enemy (The Protectors) Page 8

by Samantha Chase


  I guess I should have guessed it was possible. Ali had told me her father had been fired from Maxwell Industries, but I’d assumed it was just one of those normal things that happened.

  It wasn’t.

  My father had laid her father off and then somehow maneuvered his way out of giving him and the other employees fired laid off with him the 401(k)s and severance packages due to them.

  No wonder Ali had a gripe with us.

  No, wait. Not us. Them. The company. The Maxwells. Not me.

  Except I was a Maxwell.

  Shit.

  I swiped a hand over my face and tried to think about what I was supposed to do now. Could it really be just a coincidence that she was working this event at Gentry’s? If it was, it was the most outrageously, dropped-in-your-lap coincidence that I’d ever heard of.

  No wonder she’d been sneaking around so much. All of it made perfect sense now. As crazy as the plan was, she was trying to find something she could use—either against Gentry or to help her father’s situation.

  “Okay, think,” I told myself as I stared at a picture of Ali that was probably a driver’s license photo. I couldn’t help but smile because, while most people’s pictures resembled mug shots, she somehow managed to give a smile that just made me think... sweet.

  No doubt about it. I still had it bad for her.

  I pulled up another search on her father and saw what he’d been doing since the layoffs. After a few minutes, his report was generated, and I pretty much felt sick all over again.

  No record of employment.

  So the poor guy gets laid off, loses his income and his retirement, and then, on top of it all, can’t find another job. I read through his company profile, and it didn’t make sense to me. Greg Cooper was a model employee with an impressive resume. He should have had no problem finding a job after being let go. I mean, sure, he probably needed some time to get over the shock of the whole thing, but from what I could see, he not only had Ali to think of but two other children as well. Why wasn’t he working?

  Ali was the oldest child in her family. That must have put a lot of responsibility on her. Some of us really need to work. Her earlier words came back to me, and the puzzle pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. If I had to guess, I would have said that Greg did not take his termination of employment well, and it was up to Ali to hold the family together.

  No wonder she hated me.

  Mentally exhausted, I collapsed on the bed. Ali’s image came to mind, and I closed my eyes to let them linger. I could still feel her soft lips on mine and the way her body molded against me. No, she didn’t completely hate me. A woman as sweet as Ali wouldn’t kiss me like that if she honestly and truly hated me.

  She may want to hate me.

  But she wanted me too.

  There had been something real between us all those years ago, and she hadn’t let it go any more than I had.

  ***

  I agonized all night as to whether or not to call the guys and let them in on this new turn of events, but eventually I decided against it.

  For now.

  Should things begin to get out of hand or if I found out that Ali was behind any kind of threat to Ken Gentry, then I wouldn’t have a choice.

  Please don’t let her be a real threat.

  Today I was going to have to haul out all my prep-school manners and training. I was going to have to spend the bulk of the day working alongside Ken and going over the schedule of events for the day of the gala, along with the bracketing days.

  The weather was cooler today than it had been, and the breeze felt good as I walked across the courtyard to the house. It was always so damn hot overseas when we were deployed. I used to dream about what it would feel like to have a cool breeze blow just once. Now that I was home and I could finally feel it again, I couldn’t help but stop and enjoy the moment.

  “You forget something out here, Sebby?” Ken asked from the doorway and officially killed my moment. I forced my eyes open and had to resist the urge to shove him up against the wall and remind him that my name was Sebastian.

  Good manners and basic sense intervened. “No one’s called me that since I was eight, Ken,” I said lightly and joined him at the door. “Just enjoying a beautiful morning.” He shrugged and stepped aside to let me in. I did a quick scan of the activity going on in the house. “Who’s going to be on-site today?”

  We began to walk toward his study. “More sound and lighting people are coming in this morning to take care of some of the outside areas,” he said as he walked and looked at his tablet. “The caterers are coming in to commandeer the kitchen and set up one outside in a tent.” He scrolled. “And Cheryl—the event planner—is supposed to be here today with her assistant to check on it all. Why?”

  “It’s just good to know who is supposed to be here and why. You’re paying me to make sure that everything is secure and that nothing goes wrong. If I find a gardener in the house when they aren’t scheduled to be here or perhaps a plumber or an electrician, that’s going to raise a red flag. I’m going to need a printed schedule of who is supposed to be here and when.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was also going to help me to keep an eye on Ali. I’d know when she was going to be here as well.

  “I’ll print you out what I have, but Cheryl will have a more detailed list when she gets here.”

  I nodded and took a seat opposite his desk, waiting to see what sort of frivolous bullshit he had in store for me today. It was times like this that I really wanted to put my foot down and tell everyone to go to hell, but for the sake of the business—and for spending some time checking on Ali—I’d grin and bear it.

  He talked for over an hour about business, the company, my father, and how he saw this gala as a way of endearing himself to the masses. So self-righteous. So annoying. I smiled in the right places. Nodded when it was appropriate. And basically wished I was anyplace but here.

  Like with Ali.

  That got me wondering whether she was here yet. And what she was doing. When Ken’s phone rang, I said a silent prayer of thanks and stood. “I’m going to do a round of the property.” I spoke in a low voice as if I was being considerate of his call. “I’ll check back with you in a couple of hours.” He waved me off, and I all but sprinted from the office.

  Out in the hall, I stopped to get my bearings. I wasn’t even sure where to begin. Doing the rounds wasn’t anything new, but I wanted to maximize my time and make sure that everything was on the up and up.

  The first call of business, however, was to get a shot of caffeine. Listening to Ken yammer on for so long damn near put me to sleep. I was going to need to wake myself up a bit before I did anything else. I found a fresh pot set up in the kitchen, and I waved to Gentry’s cook, Martha.

  “We’ve got fresh pastries on the table if you’d like, Mr. Maxwell,” she said with a smile.

  “Now, Martha,” I said with a grin, “haven’t we been over this before?”

  She blushed. She was about sixty years old with a full head of gray hair, and she was big enough that I think she could take me, but her blush made her look much younger. “Oh, you know that it’s not right for me to call you by your first name. Mr. and Mrs. Gentry would be mortified.”

  I walked over and poured some cream into my mug and put an arm around her. “You let me worry about the Gentrys. And Mr. Maxwell is my father. Between you and me, I’m just Sebastian. Okay?”

  She smiled and swatted me away. “Go and grab yourself something to eat... Sebastian,” she said almost shyly and looked around to make sure that no one heard her. “Make sure you grab one before some of those other people come in and take them all.”

  Something in the way she said “other people” had me stopping in my tracks. “Is somebody giving you a problem?”

  Shaking her head, she went back to washing the fresh vegetables that she’d pulled from the garden earlier. “Oh, no. Just some of the people coming and going right now don’t seem to do a
darn thing around here except walk around looking for something to eat and drink. It’s not right. I don’t mind feeding anyone, but at least do an honest day’s work for it.”

  She had a point there. “Anyone in particular?”

  “That sound guy gets on my nerves,” she said and then placed a hand over her mouth.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. That guy annoyed me too. “Want me to tell him that the kitchen is off-limits?”

  “No, no, no,” she said, drying her hands. “For the most part, I don’t mind. Like I said, it’s not a big deal. Some of those people look like they could use a good meal.” She wiped down the counter. “Like that event planner girl. The assistant. Ali. She looks like a strong wind could blow her over.”

  I knew exactly what she meant.

  “I normally try to get her in here at one point in the day or another and pretend that I want to hear all about how the plans for the event are going. Then I ply her with some cake or cookies and tell her that I need her opinion on them because I’m thinking of making them for the gala. She always eats what I give her, and she always says thank you. That girl’s got manners.”

  “Yes, she does,” I said, noticing that she’d placed a donut on a plate for me. Great. A donut. There was no way that I was ever going to tell another living soul about it, but I was going to eat it.

  And then go in search of the girl with good manners before a strong wind blows her away.

  ***

  She wasn’t hard to find.

  And it was only because I started in the last place I was supposed to find anyone.

  The attic.

  Because of the size of the house, it wasn’t one of those pull-down ladder jobs. There was a door with a real staircase that led up to the attic. The door was ajar, and so it raised my suspicion. I honestly wasn’t expecting it to be Ali. I thought I’d find the sound guy, the lighting guy, or someone like that, but there she was. Where she wasn’t supposed to be.

  She was crouched in a corner with a tiny flashlight in her mouth, reading the writing on some boxes. Rather than sneak up behind her, I stayed where I was and cleared my throat.

  She gasped.

  She dropped the flashlight.

  She fell on her perfect, little ass.

  My hands twitched to go over and see if she was all right.

  “What are you doing up here?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.” I put my hands in my pockets to force myself to behave. She stood up but didn’t make a move to come any closer. “Did the lighting guy send you up here?”

  She seemed to rack her brain for a moment and then began to fidget with her clothes. She straightened her black pants and smoothed down the blue top. There was nothing sexy about her attire—there never was—and yet watching her run her hands over herself like this was more exciting than a Victoria’s Secret fashion show. I seriously needed to get my head examined. I could have understood my reaction if she had on a pair of stilettos, but she didn’t. Sensible black heels as usual. Practical. As was her habit, she finished her quick fix by smoothing down the sleek, dark ponytail that she always wore. I wanted to reach behind her and pull the band loose and watch her hair fall across her shoulders.

  Focus, dammit! This was so not a time to go and get turned on.

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” she said finally, breaking me out of my wayward fantasy. “I was looking to see if there were any outlets up here for him to connect to and run some lines from.” I knew she was lying. Her voice was shaking, and her eyes refused to meet mine. Her hands were twisting together, and she pretty much exhibited every textbook sign for lying.

  “Any luck?”

  “Um... no,” she said, bending to pick up her flashlight. “I guess we’ll just have to deal with unsightly surge protectors and whatnot.” She finally moved and all but ran by me to get to the stairs. “I really should go and let him know.”

  And then she was gone.

  I had to give her that one—she didn’t back down when I had her in a corner. Both literally and figuratively. I did my own check of the attic and looked at the boxes that she’d been inspecting. They were labeled Private 2008. That could be around the time of the layoffs, but what were the odds of Ken keeping anything incriminating up in his attic?

  Walking down the stairs, I turned off the lights and shut the door. There wasn’t a lock on it, so I just let it be and went on with my rounds.

  There was a technician at the master bedroom installing the security camera and a keypad lock. I simply nodded at him and went on my way because I was the one who brought him in, and I knew exactly who he was and what he was doing.

  The rest of the house was in good shape, and I decided to take advantage of the weather and head outside for a bit. Ken had mentioned the catering people, among others, being out here today so it only made sense for me to check things out. I didn’t mind. The weather was great, and that house was like a damn mausoleum. Walking across the great lawn, all I could think was that it was good to breathe again.

  Off to the right of the patio in the back, I could see the food tent going up. Just beyond it I could see the trailer for it being placed in position. I walked down a wide staircase to the lower level and waved to the sound guy—jerk—and then over to the pool area. It was like an Olympic-sized pool on steroids. Besides being massive in size, it had every possible accessory you could think of. Water slide, double diving boards, stairs, a whirlpool, a lazy river off to the side—on and on and on it went. It was surrounded by exotic plants, and I think I heard that it had been featured in some sort of house-and-garden magazine.

  I was surprised there wasn’t some sort of billboard advertising it somewhere.

  Beyond the pool was the pool house. I hadn’t been in there before because it didn’t seem necessary. Now that there were so many people out in the yard, I figured I’d better. The entire side of the house that faced the pool consisted of sliding walls of glass, and it only took a minute to figure out where I was supposed to open them from.

  They were covered in gauzy white fabric that I had to push aside to get into the house itself. The temperature inside was about ten degrees cooler, and I actually got a chill. Yikes. Turning my head, I stopped and laughed. There on the wall were several large-framed posters that held the magazine article on the pool. Figured.

  Walking farther into the house, I heard a noise. It wasn’t a banging like someone was hammering or like any kind of work noise at all. It was... clicking. Like a camera. Okay, nothing to get too alarmed about yet. It could have been that someone else was doing a story on the place and was in here taking pictures. Only... no one mentioned that to me. At all. Not once, in any of the meetings that I’d had, had anyone mentioned a magazine or newspaper coming in prior to the event to do a story or take pictures.

  Quietly I paced toward the sound. It was coming from the back changing room. The curtain to it was partially closed, and I could see some papers lying on a bench and then a hand shifting them around.

  A feminine hand.

  I looked a little closer and noticed the low black heels that I had seen earlier today. In the attic.

  Click, click, click.

  Dammit.

  I didn’t have a choice. She’d left me no alternative. Stepping forward, I paused for only a second outside the curtain before pulling it back. Ali’s big, dark eyes stared up at me in shock. Part of me wanted to throttle her while another wanted to pick her up and hold her close.

  Shock turned to annoyance in the blink of an eye. She was annoyed? Seriously? Did she have any idea what she was doing to me?

  I knew that yelling wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Neither was being some sort of bully or getting all cop-like on her. Instead, I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, seeming to all the world like I was relaxed.

  I wasn’t. I was wound tighter than I’d ever been in my life. I took a deep breath and let it out and hoped that my features relaxed enough to the point that she
couldn’t tell what was going on in my head.

  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

  Seven

  Ali

  I didn’t have an answer for Sebastian. Not a single one.

  I tried to get my mind to work, tried to think of some sort of response that would rectify this situation, but I couldn’t make my mouth work any better than my brain.

  He’d caught me red-handed—I had the papers spread out before me, papers I clearly had no reason to be looking at. I’d snuck back into Gentry’s office earlier and found some banking statements that weren’t behind locked file drawers. I couldn’t risk taking the time to read them in the office where I wasn’t supposed to be, so I’d taken them with me and come out here in private to scan them before I returned them to their proper place.

  I’d managed to think of semi-plausible excuses for every other time he’d caught me, but I couldn’t think of anything at all right now. I just stared at him, my lips slightly parted.

  He looked gorgeous, relaxed, and almost amused—all of which infuriated me. If I was going to be found out, then he could at least look like he was taking it seriously.

  It was very serious to me.

  Since he was waiting for an answer, I finally said, “It’s none of your business.”

  It wasn’t the brightest or the most original response I’d ever come up with, but at least it was something to say.

  His lips tilted up just slightly, his green eyes warming. With amusement, I thought. “Actually, it is kind of my business. My job is security, you know.”

  “Well, I’m not a threat to anyone’s life, so you can just leave me alone.”

  “There are potential threats that have nothing to do with physical safety,” he said. His eyes drifted down to the papers. “And my job is to protect against those too.”

 

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