Protecting The Boss. Beverly Long

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ McGarry was pretty impressed that Megan had done such a good job raising Abigail.”

      “Raising?”

      “Yeah, Megan is six years older. She was twenty and Abigail was fourteen. She gave up college to come home and take care of her little sister.”

      He understood about helping family. He’d move heaven and earth and whatever else was in his way to help his mom, who had sacrificed so much for him. And he didn’t generally like to talk about it, either. In the early days of Wingman Security, he’d worked two jobs once it became apparent that it would be better for his mom to relocate somewhere where her home wasn’t so isolated. Sure it had been hard. But family helped family.

      But she’d really been just a kid herself. He was more confident than ever that there was more to Megan than a pretty face.

      “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet either of them. What’s your take on the sisters?”

      “They’re very different in looks but I could tell they were sisters. Abigail seems very sweet.”

      “Megan not sweet?”

      “I don’t know yet. She talks fast,” Seth said. “Dresses pretty stylish. I suppose that goes along with owning a boutique.” He paused, unwilling to share that she’d knocked him off his stride. His partner would never let him hear the end of that. “Not my type,” he added, shaking his head.

      Rico frowned at him. “I thought this was a work assignment, not a date.”

      “Of course,” Seth said. “Just making conversation.”

      Megan rarely had trouble deciding what to wear. She loved clothes. Occupational hazard. But she wasn’t sure what one wore to an office party that seemed to be less about babies and weddings and more about the friendship of the four Wingman Security partners. She felt terribly awkward, as if she were crashing a private event. It didn’t matter that she had an invitation.

      More of a command performance.

      But it would be good to see Kellie again, who was closer in age to Abigail. Megan had been closer to Anthony McGarry, who she understood was now some renowned spine surgeon. She’d always felt sorry for the McGarry kids, in that they’d lost their dad when Anthony had been in high school and Kellie had been just a little girl.

      Of course, ultimately they’d been the lucky ones because they’d still at least had their mom. Odd how circumstances changed.

      She hadn’t unpacked her clothes for the one night in Las Vegas, believing that she’d be staying in, ordering room service. Now she opened her large suitcase and pulled out a light blue silk dress with delicate cap sleeves. Then she slipped her bare feet into silver sandals. Changed out her gold jewelry for silver and was ready to go. Was halfway out the door when she remembered her umbrella. Definitely didn’t want to be caught in another torrential rain without it. She stepped back inside the room and scooped it up.

      When she walked out of the hotel and onto the Las Vegas Strip, there was no rain, just a light breeze. It was still very warm. Probably in the low eighties. There were lights and noise and all kinds of people on the sidewalks. She thought about walking the seven blocks to the Wingman Security offices but decided that her sandals weren’t necessarily made for that. She asked the valet for a cab and within minutes, she was on her way.

      And arrived too soon, because Vegas was made for people watching. She paid the driver and got out, glancing quickly across the street at the boutique. The Vegas store would be the last store to reopen. Remodeling efforts were still underway, but she had confidence in their general contractor and knew the place would be ready by the time she returned. There would be new fixtures, new flooring, new paint, new artwork and a cool coffee bar to support her and Abigail’s upscale vision. Right now, it was still chaos and the big windows were lined with brown paper so that people passing by couldn’t get an early look.

      She bent forward and gave a sniff to the sweet-smelling flowers that were in big planters, spaced every six feet along the wide sidewalk that ran between the building and the street. Just a few blocks off the main drag, this area was much quieter. Not deserted in any manner, thank goodness. That would be bad for business. But a shade calmer, befitting the vibe they were trying to create in their stores.

      She pulled open the door, felt the blast of air-conditioning and turned back to get one more breath of warm, fragrant summer air. And when she did, she caught the quick movement of somebody stepping inside a door across the street. Not her building, which housed her boutique and several other small businesses, but the one next to it. Moving so fast that she couldn’t even tell if it had been a man or a woman.

      Like they didn’t want to be seen.

      Had somebody followed her here? Was she being watched at the hotel? Had they flagged down a cab and chased her here?

      Or had someone somehow discovered that she was returning to this office tonight?

      Or was she simply losing her mind? Because that’s what it seemed like.

      It was more of the same that she’d been experiencing for months. Footsteps behind her. Doorbells ringing in the middle of the night and no one at the door. Hang-up phone calls from numbers that she couldn’t trace. Muffled conversation beneath her open second-story bedroom window.

      The overwhelming feeling that she was being watched.

      She debated running across the street and searching the other building. Knew the idea had big holes. She was ill-equipped for action in heels with no means to protect herself.

      And more importantly, she really wasn’t brave enough. Because whatever it was, it felt sinister.

      It was twenty minutes to seven when she finally arrived. Cocktail hour was well under way but Seth hadn’t had a drink yet. And when the elevator door opened and she stepped out, in something pale blue and silky and several inches above her knee, he thought that was why his throat was suddenly dry.

      And maybe the music and the crowd of people in the lobby explained the humming in his ears and his general feeling of light-headedness. He crossed the room fast.

      “It...uh...looks...uh...different,” she said as he reached her.

      Her voice was shaky. And did she seem a little preoccupied? Maybe even upset? Had something happened? “Everything okay?” he asked.

      “Yes, of course,” she said, not meeting his eyes. Her hand was clenched so tightly around the handle of her umbrella that her fingers were white.

      Something definitely wasn’t right. “No rain expected tonight,” he said, deliberately staring at her clenched hand.

      She tapped the wooden nub at the end against the ceramic tile flooring. Nervously. “I’m going nowhere without my umbrella. Ever again.”

      “Ever is a long time.”

      He watched as she drew in a breath. Then another. Saw her fingers relax. “True,” she said.

      He reached for the umbrella. “Why don’t I take that and stow it back here,” he said, motioning to the credenza behind Jane’s desk.

      “Thank you,” she said. “I may need some of these,” she said, casually looking around at the array of small tables, “when СКАЧАТЬ