Tara sighed. The past was over and the future awaited. The sooner she got onboard with that, the better. Plus, she wasn’t a “dwell on your hardships” kind of gal. More a “pick yourself up and dust yourself off and get right back in the fight” type. Which was even more reason to make sure she got that piece of climate change legislation passed before her tenure was up.
And maybe if she did so, it would prove she deserved to stay in the position permanently.
She got back to work, sorting through her emails and reviewing the latest press releases her staff had put together.
It was several hours before she stopped, mainly because a calendar alert popped up on her computer that the chairman of the board was coming into the office and had requested an emergency meeting with her in five minutes. Her stomach sank a little at that. In her experience, emergency meetings were never a good thing. Still, she checked her appearance in the mirror on the wall, then headed down the hall to the conference room where she was meeting Nathan Harrison. She knocked briefly on the door to announce herself. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
Harrison looked up from the papers he was studying and waved her inside. “Yes, come in, Ms. Crumb. Have a seat. Oh, and please close the door behind you.”
Oh boy. The knot in her gut tightened. Tara did as he asked, then sat down, doing her best not to fidget. She hadn’t planned on seeing the head honcho today, so she hadn’t really dressed up. She wasn’t sloppy, of course, but instead of a more formal suit, she’d worn one of her favorite tops and pants. Her preferred style was sort of boho chic—Stevie Nicks meets upscale Nirvana grunge—but now, she felt a bit out of place with her flowing sleeves as she sat across from Harrison, who worked as a high-powered CEO in his day job and who looked like he’d been born in a three-piece suit.
Finally he set his papers aside and clasped his hands atop his table, his gaze direct and unreadable behind his glasses. “I’ll make this quick, Ms. Crumb. After the events at the rally last weekend, the board thinks it would be best if you took a step back from the campaign to pass the legislation, for your own safety.”
The nervous energy bouncing around inside her froze solid with disbelief. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”
“It’s not permanent,” Harrison said, looking a bit uncomfortable as he stared down at his hands and fussed with the papers in front of him again. “Just until this is all sorted out. We don’t want you to get hurt or worse because of the controversy surrounding this legislation, especially with the results of the murder investigation into the last director’s death still pending. Climate change is important, but it isn’t worth your life.”
“Yes, it is,” Tara said before she could stop herself. She didn’t want to die, dammit, but this was her chance to make a difference. GGE had been pushing for legislation like this for years, but it was only recently that they’d finally gotten traction. Public sentiment was behind them, they had legislators on their side, and it was an election year, so everyone in state government—up to and including the governor—wanted to use this moment to show that they were getting things done. If the bill was ever going to happen, it had to be now. She was the face of the organization. If she backed away, who knew how the tides would shift? Pulse racing and chest tight, she swallowed hard and tried again. “Listen, sir. I get that it could be dangerous, but I don’t want to step back at such a crucial moment. Isn’t there a way we could compromise? Maybe have a protective detail follow me to and from work, perhaps watch my house at night. I’m not scared, if that’s what the board’s worried about.”
Harrison shook his head and set about tamping his papers into a neat stack. “No, I can see that you’re not, but you probably should be. And besides, we don’t have the funds right now to hire a bodyguard detail on an ongoing basis. You’ll just have to accept the board’s decision as final. It really is for the best.”
But it didn’t feel like it was for the best. Not at all. Tara’s posture stiffened. He was dismissing her, and she refused to be dismissed. Okay. Fine. They wanted her to have protection, she’d get some protection. “What if I pay for them myself? Would you reconsider then?”
The chairman studied her for a long moment and Tara feared he’d say no. Then he tapped his fingers on his desk and nodded. She let out her pent-up breath. “It will have to be on your own dime, Ms. Crumb. And I can’t promise the board won’t shut this down after their meeting in a few weeks, but I suppose if you had a bodyguard with you at all times, that would cut down on the risk.” He gave her a look. “But be careful, please, Ms. Crumb. You getting yourself killed won’t do this legislation any good at all.”
4
Tara went back to her office, her mind whirling. She needed to strategize here, be smart about things. Figure out how the heck to even find a bodyguard she could trust. She closed her office door this time to hopefully rule out any more nosy visitors and pulled up her web browser. With no idea where to start, Tara just typed in “hire bodyguard Atlanta” and hit Enter.
Page after page of local firms started to show up. Okay. But as she checked out the sites, she only got more anxious and confused. Each one insisted that they were the best in the region, so how was she supposed to judge? She didn’t even know what criteria she should be looking for. Dammit. This wasn’t helping at all.
Choosing one firm at random, she pulled out her cell phone to call, but was interrupted by a knock at her door. Her annoyed gaze flew to the office door. If that was Judy again, come to snoop, she might just go off on the woman…
Knock, knock, knock.
Ugh. Judy was nothing if not persistent and she wouldn’t go away until Tara answered, so she put her cell phone down and called out, “Yes?”
The door opened to reveal someone who wasn’t Judy at all. In fact, it was the last person she’d ever thought she’d see again. “Clint? What are you doing here?”
He looked as flustered as she felt, tiny splotches of crimson blossoming atop his high cheekbones as he stepped into the office and tugged his daughter in behind him. “Uh, hey. Sorry, I hope we’re not interrupting.”
“No,” she said, standing and coming around her desk. “Not at all. Come in.”
“Thanks.” He closed the door behind them and held out a bouquet of what looked like a somewhat motley assortment of wildflowers and weeds to her. “These are, uh… these are for you.”
Tentatively, she took them, blinking at him over the tops of the bedraggled stems. “What are these for?”
Clint scratched the top of his dark head, his short hair grazing his fingertips as he looked down sheepishly. “They were Ashley’s idea.”
“We picked them outside just for you!” the little girl said, her smile wide and beaming.
It was so contagious, Tara couldn’t keep from grinning herself. She did love fresh flowers, even slightly-past-their-prime ones like these. Ashley tugged free of her dad and walked over to Tara, staring up at her with wide eyes. “Do you like them?”
“Yes, I do. Thank you for picking them for me.” She crouched down in front of the little girl. “How have you been?”
“Good!” Ashley looked around the office, then at Tara’s arm. “How’s your bullet wound?”
“Uh, sweetpea,” Clint said, stepping up behind his daughter and taking her by the shoulders. “Maybe you can go over there and sit on the sofa and play with your iPad for a minute while Daddy talks to Ms. Crumb?”
“Her name’s Tara, Dad,” Ashley said, rolling her eyes like he was the silliest person ever. “And my battery’s low. I need a plug.”
“Um, right.” Clint tugged his daughter over to the small loveseat against the far wall of her office, right next to an outlet, then pulled a power cord out of his pocket and got Ashley plugged in and situated before coming back to stand in front of Tara. “I’m sorry about all this. I just really wanted to talk to you about what happened at the rally. If you have a minute, that is.”
“Oh. Sure. Okay.” She gestured toward the empty chair
in front of her desk that Judy had occupied earlier. Tara slid into her own seat, glad for the desk between her and him. Not that she thought he was dangerous—well, not in a likely-to-attack-her sort of way. But damn, he was way too good-looking for his own good. Hers too, and keeping some distance from him was probably a good thing, considering her core had gone all tingly at the first sight of him. “How did you find me here?”
“Well, actually, I tracked you down through the company roster.” He gave a self-deprecating grin and her stupid heart flip-flopped. Tara crossed her arms atop the desk as an added barrier against his mega-watt charms. “Not in a stalker kind of way, just because I’m trying to work out for myself exactly what happened the day of the shooting and wanted to get your perspective on all of it.”
“Daddy,” Ashley said from the loveseat. “I’m bored.”
“Play with your iPad, honey,” Clint called back over his shoulder. “Like Daddy told you.”
“But it’s boring—I’ve already played all the games on here.”
Tara bit her lip at Clint’s uncomfortable expression. He was clearly having a hard time with his kid and she took pity on him. “How about if I ask my assistant to give you a tour around the place, Ashley? Would you like that?”
“Yes!” The little girl bounced off the loveseat, leaving her iPad behind, and raced over to Tara. “Would you really do that? Do you have cool stuff here, like solar panels and water generators and wind turbines too?”
“We do, and my assistant would love to show them to you.” She grinned at the little girl’s enthusiasm. It reminded Tara of herself at that age. True activists were born, not made, she’d always thought. “We’ll need to get your daddy’s okay first, though.”
Clint looked more than eager and relieved to take her up on her offer. “Yes. Absolutely she can go, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all.” Tara made a quick call out to Judy, and soon the woman and Ashley were off to tour the facilities. There would doubtless be some gossip for the rest of the day over the little girl who came to visit Tara’s office—but she could deal with that later. Once they were alone, Tara sat back in her chair again and smiled across her desk at Clint. “Sorry. I just thought our conversation might be better had out of the listening range of smaller ears.”
“No. That’s great. I totally agree.” He crossed one ankle over his knee and rested his beefy forearms atop his muscular thighs. Man, the guy was built like a superhero and seemed just about as perfect too, saving damsels in distress and all. Not that Tara was some fairy tale princess, nor did she need saving. Not usually, anyway. They locked eyes for a second longer than necessary before she looked away and crossed her arms and her legs. She needed all the barriers she could get. He cleared his throat and frowned down at his lap, picking at some non-existent lint on his jeans. “Right. So, can you give me your account of the day of the rally, including the shooting, please?”
“Sure.” She rattled off the details she could remember, keeping as cool as possible, worried he’d hear the fear in her voice when she recounted the events of the shooting.
“And you don’t remember noticing anything out of the ordinary before that first bullet was fired?” Clint asked. “Any strange faces or noises or anything?”
“No.” Tara scowled and shook her head. “Nothing. Sorry, that probably doesn’t help you at all, does it? But honestly, my focus that day was mainly on getting support for the climate change legislation we’re trying to have passed, so I wasn’t paying attention to any signs of danger—I was more interested in seeing how many people were there, whether they seemed to be agreeing with the speakers, whether everyone was having a good time.”
“Fair enough.” He shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs, then re-crossing them on the other side. “And understandable. Everything I hear in the news makes it seem like the legislation is going to pass. You must be proud of the work you’ve done. I like to see a job through to the end myself. Or at least, I did.”
Tara noticed the slight downturn of the corners of his lips and the general dip in his mood. She wasn’t a nosy person by nature, but now her interest was piqued. “Oh. You’re not working today?”
Dumb question, Tara. So dumb.
Of course he wasn’t working. If he was working, he’d be off protecting someone. But maybe he had the day off or something. Still, that didn’t explain his wince or the flicker of hurt that passed quickly over his handsome face, so fast she would have missed it, if she hadn’t been watching him so closely.
He sighed, then shook his head. “I’ve been put on a leave of absence until all this mess with the shooting at the rally is cleaned up.”
* * *
Shit. He hadn’t meant to tell her that.
Clint scrubbed a hand over his face and stared around the office, anywhere but at her. The weight of Tara’s gaze was burning a hole through him as it was, and he felt this weird connection to her he didn’t understand at all. It had probably been a mistake to come here today, but he’d needed to get out of the house and out of his head and Ashley had been so excited to come with him, so…
Speaking of his daughter, she was still out on that damned tour or else Clint would have left right then and there. As it was, he sighed and slapped his hands on the arms of his chair, for lack of anything better to do. “Anyway, I’ve got time on my hands, so I’ve been looking into things myself.”
Duh, idiot. She already knows that.
Embarrassed heat climbed his cheeks from beneath the collar of his navy-blue T-shirt and he tapped the toe of his work boot on the plain beige carpeting. This was going about as well as he’d expected. Hell, he wasn’t good at small talk, especially with women. It was why he usually stuck with flings—easy pickups at a bar or a club where he didn’t need a pickup line beyond “Can I buy you a drink?”
Tara leaned forward, giving him a glance right down the front of that froufrou shirt of hers straight to that lacy pink bra she was wearing, and damn. Now his interest had taken a whole different turn. He swallowed hard and frowned down at his clenched hands in his lap.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her sweet voice stirring up all sorts of naughty thoughts in his head before he tamped them down hard. He was not here to date her. He was here to listen to her account of events around the shooting. That was all.
And maybe, if he told himself that enough times, he’d believe it.
“I know your job is important to you,” she continued, sitting back at last and giving his poor, misguided libido a rest. “And I can relate. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but the chairman of our board of directors called me into a meeting today to tell me the same thing. They wanted me to take time off, since I’d been directly attacked, but I told them no. I can’t let up on this legislation until I’m sure it’s going to pass. I mean…”
As she talked, Clint studied her more closely. Man, she was pretty. Creamy skin, bright hazel eyes. And that hair. Thick and lush and so soft looking, his fingertips itched to touch it. That mouth of hers, pink and pert, kept moving though he wasn’t really listening to what she was saying anymore. Instead he wondered if she tasted as luscious as she looked.
“What do you think?” Tara asked, her smile expectant and her eyes sparkling with interest. “Or is that a conflict of interest for you?”
Well, shit.
Clint had no idea what she was talking about, and he only had himself to blame. Again.
Fuck.
He coughed and fidgeted in his seat, trying to buy some time so he didn’t look even stupider than he already felt. Man, he’d never thought he was like his mother—getting distracted at the drop of a hat—but now it seemed he took after her way more than he wanted to admit. And didn’t that just suck even harder than the rest of this situation. His mother was the last person in the universe Clint wanted to be like.
Finally, he couldn’t pretend any longer and said, “I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”
Tara gave him an odd
look. “I asked if I could hire you to be my personal bodyguard.”
Oh.
His first reaction was hell no. Based on his reactions to her whenever they were together, watching her twenty-four-seven was likely to drive him insane. Or at least give him the worst case of blue balls in the history of mankind.
But then, as he sat there and thought about it, maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea. It would give him a chance to suss out more about what happened that day at the rally, and maybe being around her would help him uncover who might be behind the attack. Plus, it would give him a chance to atone for his failures that day, as long as he could keep his mind on the task at hand and out of her pants.
He could do that. He would do that. Because otherwise, this wouldn’t work at all.
Clint was nothing if not disciplined. He just needed to call on his famous, well-honed control.
But there was one question he needed answered first. “It was your board of directors who insisted that I be put on leave. Are they going to have a problem with me being your bodyguard?”
She thought about this for a minute, then shook her head. “I’m paying for you out of my own pocket, so I don’t see where they have the right to object. I was told it was my choice—and you’re the one I trust.”
“Okay then,” he said, before he talked himself out of it again. “You’ve got yourself a bodyguard, Ms. Crumb.”
“Tara, please. And yay!” She stood and came around the desk to shake his hand at the same time that the office door opened and Ashley came running back inside.
“Daddy! Daddy!” his daughter said, jumping around his legs with excitement. “You won’t believe what I saw. It was so cool…”
While Ashley rambled on about her tour, Clint grinned over at his new client. “Tara. I’ll call you later, once we get home, so we can iron out all the details. Will that work?”
Protecting His Beautiful Lover: Southern Soldiers of Fortune Book Three Page 3