“You don’t have to go back overseas. There are plenty of security jobs here.”
I laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, you see me wearing a suit and aviator glasses?”
“I’m serious. Dani was just telling me how they’re beefing up security for Brady. Some of the guys wear suits; some of them wear all black to blend in as roadies,” he said. I heard the words, but I’d almost shut down after he’d said Dani’s name followed in the next breath by Brady’s. Images of the two of them laughing as they’d danced at Mac’s wedding haunted me. My body reacted to it. Denial. Possessiveness. Resignation. She couldn’t be mine.
“Why does Dani know what’s happening with Brady O’Neil? She cave and become one of his groupies or something?” I tried to say it casually. I tried to sound like I was just extending the conversation, but her name and I didn’t have a good relationship. Her name made my voice go down a half an octave and had me coursing with desire. When I looked at Mac, I could see the tiny narrowing of his eyes as he watched me and my response.
I didn’t blink.
Finally, he answered. “She got a job as his public relations manager. She’s been traveling back and forth to New York the last couple weeks, learning the ropes, prepping for his tour kick-off.”
“And this requires a lot of security, does it?” I couldn’t help the smirk at the thought. Mac smacked me on the back of the head, and I growled at the Gibbs move. He just grinned.
“Well, I guess there have been some threats from a disgruntled employee. I haven’t been read in because there’s a nondisclosure agreement in place about the whole topic.”
The sudden image of Dani being at Brady’s side when shots went off made my heart seize up all over again. That burnt up body part had gotten a good workout today. It was still charred like charcoal, but between the doc and Dani, it was being squeezed out of its hardened state into one cracked with blood and sorrow.
“Is she in danger?” I asked, still trying to keep my voice even.
Mac shook his head. “Nah. It’s all directed at Brady.”
“We all know how that goes. Aiming for one, you might get the other.”
“You never did.”
“I’m a fucking sniper. I’m not some random weirdo with a grudge,” I threw back.
Mac’s face twisted with a look of surprise. “You know, I wasn’t thinking of it from that perspective. Now, I’m going to be worried as hell, so thanks for that.”
I didn’t say anything, because now I was going to be worried as hell, too.
Dani
BEAUTIFUL
“Every day is so wonderful
Then suddenly
It's hard to breathe.”
Performed by Christina Aguilera
Written by Linda Perry
The limousine stood with its door open as Brady, Lee, and I left the airport surrounded by four bulky men. I wanted to roll my eyes at the way his security stood. They were more concerned with looking like they were security than actually being security.
I’d grown up around military professionals. I’d worked around Secret Service for twelve years. This private firm of wannabes had a lot to learn. But then—I reminded myself—I had a lot to learn as well, and no one was kicking me to the curb yet.
Instead, Lee had been nothing but kind and helpful.
I’d met him for the first time in his office in New York City the Monday after Mac’s wedding. Brady hadn’t been messing around when he said he wanted me on board, setting up the meeting on Sunday and all but insisting I find a way to get there.
I’d liked Lee immediately. His smile had been friendly, even though he had to be unsure about me being there. His deeply tanned skin and black hair shouted out the indigenous heritage residing in his DNA somewhere. He was tall and lanky and somehow ageless. Neither old nor young. His perfectly tailored suit flattered him as much as the square glasses perched on his nose. After shaking hands, I’d sat down across his desk and shot an eye at Brady who’d gone back to lying on the couch, pretending not to listen.
“Brady says he’s offered you a job,” Lee said, a frown wiping his smile away, and I couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know me, and my résumé wasn’t exactly filled with music industry knowledge. But it was the words he wasn’t saying that were the real question: Are you sleeping with my client?
“First, I’m not going to hold you or him to that offer,” I tried to reassure him. “Second, no, I’m not sleeping with him. He isn’t my type.”
Brady snorted, and Lee sat back in his chair, assessing me all over. I was in my dark-blue suit that shouted stability and expertise with a mild-yellow shirt with white polka dots, because yellow was both creative and intellectual. I’d wanted to scream success, but many people had a negative reaction to orange, so I’d stayed away from it. I wanted to look professional, smart, but also trendy enough for the music industry.
“Brady is pretty much everyone’s type,” Lee said as he tweaked his glasses back into position.
I laughed. “So I’ve heard, but honestly, he’s not mine.”
“She’s more the dark and broody kind of girl,” Brady shot out from the couch.
Lee and I both ignored him. I wasn’t sure how Brady had pegged me in that manner. Nash was definitely dark and broody, but the previous men in my life had not been. Sure, they were all dark, tall, handsome, but they weren’t broody. For example, Russell had been almost geeky with his Ph.D. and multiple languages.
“Let’s just say we’ll come back to that topic later,” Lee said. “Let’s start with why you’ve decided to transition after twelve years in politics.”
We’d gone back and forth, me often asking more questions than Lee, and finally, after answering about my twentieth question, Lee had held up his hands
