“Mr. Draper, we need to talk,” Rodrick says. He is always serious, but his tone is even more urgent now. My brows furrow watching the two of them, as Jenn looks up the stairs with a worried expression.
“What’s going on?”
Jenn has been my assistant since I was twenty-two, and for the past decade she’s seen me through more scandals than I can count, so I doubt it can be as serious as she thinks.
Struggling to mentally scroll through all the women I’ve been with this month, I wonder who could be making a scene at the party. Jenn works close with every member of my team, but my publicist is the one who usually causes her so much stress.
“Mr. Draper, we need to go to the security room,” Rodrick says, wiping the smirk from my face.
While Jenn handles all the careless backlash the media throws my way for being a bachelor, Rodrick is the head of my security, protecting me from the real threats. Usually cool headed and nonchalant, his flushed face makes my stomach drop.
“Cut the panic. What the fuck is going on?” I demand. My tone causes both of them to pause on the steps as they exchange a look before Rodrick begins.
“There’s been a breach, sir,” Rodrick’s voice is low, embarrassed. And he should be. I pay him enough to make sure I’m secure from these bloodsuckers, even on a party night.
“Where?” I ask through clenched teeth, scowling at each of them from the three stairs that separate us.
“The east wing,” Jenn whispers.
My heart leaps, I am wrestling to remain composed, when all I want to do is yell. The only things in the east wing of this home belong to my late grandmother. It’s practically a storage unit of everything I have of hers. Who on earth would want to steal from an old lady’s things?
“We can discuss it in the office,” Rodrick reasons, his face back to its usual stoic expression.
“Well, we do need a walk through the party at least,” Jenn adds softly.
There’s no way I can refuse to take photos and shake hands at my own event, despite the security breach.
“All right,” I nod before closing the distance between the three of us. Walking to Jenn, she turns just in time for me to give Rodrick an order without her hearing.
“Meet me in the office in thirty minutes,” I order and he nods. “And I need to know everything on her,” I hand him Ava’s license and small purse before following Jenn down the steps.
“Consider it done,” I hear Rodrick say behind me as I straighten my tie before reaching the landing.
The front door is just in sight as guests wander through, their heads swiveling to take in as much of my home in as short a time as possible. Hosting events is a part of the upper class of LA, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.
“How long?” I sneer as Jenn scrolls through her phone frantically.
“Just ten minutes, Logan,” she glances up before returning her attention to never-ending emails.
Her ten-minute request quickly turns into twenty, as I shake hands and pose for pictures. Jenn has worked with my publicist and event planner to throw another successful party, but my thoughts are split between Ava and the security breach.
In a way, I don’t want to hear what Rodrick has to say about either. I’d rather pretend that nothing was stolen, and Ava is as innocent as I want to remember. In reality, I know it’s more likely that someone made off with all my grandmother’s jewelry, and Ava is some has-been from the porn industry, sent here to get info on me.
In this life, everyone wants something from me. It’s best when it’s just money, because I’ve got more than enough of that to go around. But sometimes people want more, and that’s when it gets difficult.
“Great. You did great. Do you want to go see Rodrick now?” Jenn says lowly, gripping my forearm.
“Does he know who it was?” I question her nonchalantly, so that anyone looking on or taking pictures will think I’m asking her what time it is.
“Not sure,” she answers with a smile, playing along with my tone.
“All right, text me if you need me,” I tell her before walking off.
The lights and noise fade as I make my way to the private area of the home. I can hear the security team in their office before I turn the corner to their hallway. Rodrick is lecturing them about the breach, but it’s nothing compared to what they’re about to get from me.
“So, who’s getting fired today?” I yell entering their quarters. Small monitors playing live footage from over two dozen vantage points cover the walls, as the team all look at me with fear in their eyes.
“Mr. Draper,” Rodrick acknowledges my presence, while stepping back to make room for me to enter the office.
“Honestly, I think I’d better understand this on a regular night. You know, who would be expecting that? But during a party? Are you not supposed to be fucking prepared? Who dropped the ball?”
“Mr. Draper,” Rodrick tries to calm me.
“No, Rodrick. I want to know which one of your men was assigned to the east wing,” I look at the men once again.
“I was,” a thin guy stands up from a chair near the far corner. He looks to be no older than twenty.
“Oh yeah? And what happened? I don’t see any bruises on you,” I raise my hands in confusion as he crumbles before my eyes, his shoulders slumping and his posture sinking.
“I got a call on the radio to come to the front door,” he raises his hands, pleading for me to believe him, but I don’t.
“Who called him?” I question the entire room, just to prove the obvious. No one called him and there was no reason for him to leave his post.
“Mr. Draper, there’s a missing walkie from our
