Protecting The Boss. Beverly Long
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looking gun in his hand.
“You’re not exactly dressed for the gym.”
“Maybe I’ll just watch this morning.”
He was not going to watch her run. Just the idea made her warm.
He fell into step next to her. But then stopped suddenly. He was staring at her shoulder. At the lovely green and purple. “What the hell is that?” he asked, his voice deep.
“It’s a bruise,” she said. She hadn’t expected company, hadn’t thought to keep it covered. Yesterday, when they’d first met, her scarf had been strategically arranged to cover her upper arm. Last night, her dress had sleeves that had done the trick.
“I know that,” he said. “But how did you get it? Not from last night,” he said. “It’s not a fresh one.”
“No. Two weeks ago, I rolled my car and hit my shoulder pretty hard.”
“Tell me you went to a doctor,” he said.
“Of course.” She’d been taken by ambulance. “It wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. It’s getting better every day.”
“Right,” he said, starting to walk again. “How did the accident happen?”
“Another car blew a stop sign,” she said. “Hit the passenger side. My car was totaled.”
“Any serious injuries?”
“No. Thankfully. And the other driver got the ticket. Look, if you’re coming to the gym with me,” she said, wanting to make sure he understood, “you have to do something. Keep yourself busy.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said.
She was starting to think that Seth might be something to worry about. It had been a long time since she’d dreamed about a man. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. “Fine,” she said, starting to walk fast.
He kept up with her no problem. “How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said.
“That’s two fines. I think this is going really well.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. She stabbed the elevator button. The gym was on the top floor. Once they were inside the space, she took two deep breaths, then turned to him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t normally wake up bitchy. But you surprised me.”
He shrugged, not looking concerned. “Well, then we’re even. You surprised me, too. Wasn’t expecting the door to open at five o’clock.”
“You were in the hallway all night?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
As if that were perfectly reasonable. “Because you were worried that somebody was going to try to get in or that I was going to try to get out?”
“Maybe a little of both,” he said.
“We have no idea if somebody was actually shooting at me. Maybe they were aiming at you.”
“No way. Everybody loves me,” he said.
“Then it was probably just random.”
“Very possible. I’ll follow up with the Vegas police this morning to see if they know any more.”
She’d been planning to do that. But it wouldn’t make sense for both of them to call. “You have to be exhausted. You couldn’t have gotten much sleep sitting up in the hallway.”
“I got enough,” he said. “Had a nice conversation with the night manager around three when he tried to remove me. Evidently, they picked me up on camera. It’s not comforting that it took them that long.”
The elevator doors opened and she stepped out. “What did you tell them?”
He didn’t answer right away. He was looking around, to the left, to the right. There was only one other guest using a treadmill. Finally, he turned to her. “That you’d dumped me and if I couldn’t change your mind in the morning, I was going to throw myself over the Hoover Dam.”
“You didn’t,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. He walked over to a rowing machine that faced the elevators. “I’ll give this a go.”
She told herself not to watch him, to just run her miles and forget him. But that was hard to do. Even in his dress shirt, she could see his muscles flex as he pulled on the rope. She was getting all hot and sweaty and it had nothing to do with her pace.
She ran for forty minutes before slowing the machine down to a walk. After another minute, she stopped it and grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf. She wiped her face, then draped it around her neck. He was already off the rowing machine.
He was watching the man who’d been on the other treadmill approach them. When the elevator door opened, she stepped in. Then felt a hand on her hip. She almost let out a yelp but realized in time that it was Seth, simply edging her in the direction of the corner. Then he placed himself in front of her, between her and the man.
By the time they got off on their floor, leaving the poor man by himself, she was strangely irritated. “Don’t you think you’re carrying this a bit too far? The man was just jogging. Not a threat to me.”
“Can’t be too careful,” he said. They were at her door. “In that spirit, give me your room card. I’ll open your door.”
She decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. It wasn’t going to take him long. It was just a bed and a small bath.
He handed her back her key when he was finished. “I need to go home and get showered and changed.”
“That’s fine. We’re not leaving here until four.” That had been clearly stated on the contract. “You have the whole day.”
He continued to stand there. “What time are you headed over to the boutique?” he asked.
It was none of his business. But she didn’t say that. The man had slept in the hall. Not her fault, but still. “At eleven. I’ve got back-to-back meetings with our general contractor and our architects.”
“You have our office number?” he asked.
“I do.”
“And my cell?”
“Already in my phone.”
“And you would call if you needed something?”
“I’m not going to need anything,” she said. “But yes, I would,” she added, because she had the feeling that he was seconds away from insisting that he spend the day with her. She needed some space. Some time to get her head together. She couldn’t start a big road trip with somebody who had her off her stride. “I’ll meet you in front of the boutique at 4:00 p.m.”
“I could swing by and give you a ride later this morning.”
“Evan and Abigail are picking me up,” she said.
“Oh, okay.”
He didn’t sound convinced but she wasn’t giving in. She couldn’t be concerned that he wasn’t completely satisfied with the plan. Probably he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything that wasn’t his plan. He might be providing security but he wasn’t calling the shots. “Is there anything else?” she asked, her voice deliberately curt.
He shook his head. “Naw. I should probably get going. I can tell you’re busy,” he added, letting her know that he knew he was getting the brush-off.
She refused to feel bad about that.
He