Chapter Seventeen
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T ristan stood at the base of the corporate jet’s stairs as Cassie pulled the SUV up on the tarmac at the executive airport southwest of Seattle.
In the wake of the shooting, he and Cassie had been transferred from Becca’s and Chase’s details to this assignment.
Gavin and Decker had stepped in to take their place.
Tristan wasn’t sorry. Getting out of Crimson Point was exactly what Cassie needed, and he was glad Ryder had teamed them up together again. He wanted to make sure he kept an eye out for her personally.
“You normally let her do the driving?”
He glanced up at the client, standing in the jet doorway tugging on his suit jacket. Henry Schumacher III, the wealthy CEO he and Cassie had been assigned to protect. “Let her?”
His tone must have warned Schumacher that he was in danger of crossing the line, because the man’s expression shifted to surprise and he shrugged, as if he hadn’t meant anything by it. “Just didn’t expect her to be the one behind the wheel, is all.”
Because she’s a woman .
He was starting to clearly see why Cassie felt she had to hold herself to a higher standard within the company—and the industry. “Agent Edwards is the most qualified driver in the personal security department. You’re in good hands.”
Schumacher smirked. “Yeah? Actually, I don’t mind the idea of being in her hands at all .”
Tristan kept his expression neutral, even as anger punched through him.
He’d seen the way Schumacher had eyed Cassie when they’d first been introduced in Portland.
Their client had been polite initially, if curious about her, but the drinking was bringing out a different side of him that Tristan didn’t like.
Schumacher started down the steps, that amused smirk still on his face.
Tristan caught a whiff of booze coming from him as he opened the rear passenger door for him.
Guy had been pounding vodka and sodas pretty much nonstop since they’d boarded the plane two hours ago in Portland, where a fog advisory kept them grounded, doubling the length of the trip.
Tristan shut the door of the SUV behind Schumacher, then went around and got in the other side next to him. “Good to go,” he said to Cassie.
“Straight to the meeting?” she asked, driving toward the security gate.
“Unless there’s somewhere else you’d rather take me,” Schumacher said, his tone unmistakably flirtatious.
“There’s an accident on the 405, so traffic is backed up on the I-5 getting into town.
We’ll be cutting it close without any stops.
” Her tone was brisk and professional even though there’s no way she could have missed his meaning, skillfully sidestepping the issue and shutting down his efforts in one breath.
She was incredible. Absolutely incredible to be so poised and professional with a client like Schumacher, only days after nearly being gunned down on her previous job.
“All right, whatever you think is best,” Schumacher said, giving her what Tristan assumed was his version of a charming smile as he leaned back against the leather seat. “So, Agent Edwards. What got you into this line of work? If you don’t mind my asking. You could be one of Charlie’s Angels.”
Cassie met Tristan’s gaze in the rearview briefly before responding. “Not at all. But if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to focus on my driving.”
Tristan bit back a smile as Schumacher’s grin disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion, as if he couldn’t figure her out. Cassie was awesome.
“Of course,” Schumacher finally said, and pulled out his phone to scroll on it with a bored expression.
Traffic was bad, but the rest of the drive was blessedly silent. They arrived at the downtown high-rise with just a few minutes to spare, and Cassie turned into the underground parking garage.
“Meet you up there,” Tristan said to her when she stopped near the elevator bank.
He escorted Schumacher inside it and faced forward as they rode up to the floor where the meeting was being held. “She’s pretty uptight, huh?” Schumacher said.
Tristan’s gaze shot to his in the mirrored panel in front of them. “What’s that?”
“Agent Edwards.”
“Not at all. She’s a professional.” Hopefully that made it clear he wasn’t going to tolerate him talking shit about her.
Schumacher grunted and adjusted his tie.
They didn’t speak as the elevator climbed to the top of the building or on their way down the long hallway to the conference room.
Outside the wall of wide, tinted windows, downtown Seattle spread out below them in a neat grid pattern that flowed down to the deep blue of Puget Sound in the distance.
Tristan saw him into the room and then returned to the reception area, using the lull to message the office and update them. At destination downtown Seattle. Client in meeting.
And he’s an asshole , he thought to himself.
Next, he shot off a quick message to Gavin. How goes it?
Three dots appeared. Good. Smooth sailing. No trouble. How’s Seattle?
Gray. Client’s a sleezy, sexist asshole though. He could say it to his twin.
Fun! Enjoy.
What he’d enjoy was putting the bastard in his place. Or watching Cassie do it before he could. Hot.
It was another forty-five minutes before she stepped off the elevator. She smiled in greeting, making his heart kick hard against his ribs, her long legs eating up the distance between them. “Did I miss anything exciting?” she asked, coming to sit in the chair next to his.
“Nope. How’s the hotel?”
“Fine. Everything’s good to go.”
They both looked up in surprise as the conference room door opened. A dozen men in suits filed out, including Schumacher. He was laughing with the man next to him.
That was short.
Cassie and Tristan both stood. Schumacher slowed, giving Cassie another up and down that was just this side of tolerable.
“Ah, here’s my security team,” he said to his colleague.
“I paid extra for the most beautiful agent they had.” He winked at Cassie like he thought he was giving her a compliment.
She didn’t bat an eyelash. Tristan was impressed that she kept her cool.
“Are we going straight to the hotel?” she asked.
“Why not,” he said, setting a hand on his colleague’s shoulder. “Come have dinner with me. They’ve got the best steakhouse in town there.”
“Sounds good to me,” the other man said, smiling at Cassie. But at least he was friendly and respectful.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said and spun around to head for the elevators.
Tristan didn’t miss the way Schumacher’s gaze locked on her ass, his head cocking slightly to one side.
Another burst of protectiveness shot through him, but Schumacher straightened his head and engaged the other men in conversation.
He stood aside as the men all mingled in the hallway, shooting the shit. Gonna be a bit longer , he texted Cassie.
After about ten minutes, Schumacher clapped someone on the back and turned to the guy he’d invited to dinner. “Shall we get going? I’m starving.”
On our way with a plus one , Tristan told Cassie, then followed the two men silently into the elevator. He paid only partial attention to what they were talking about. Financials and projected earnings for the next quarter.
He tuned them out, focusing on their surroundings.
When the elevator doors opened he stepped out first, scanning the underground parking floor.
Through the glass doors he saw the company SUV waiting at the curb.
He stepped through the doors, scanning for threats before opening the rear passenger door.
Schumacher and the other guy climbed in, leaving Tristan to get in up front. Thankfully the friend kept Schumacher in conversation, so he didn’t have time to make another sexist or inappropriate comment to Cassie. She exited the underground parking and turned into traffic.
The light ahead turned green. Tristan automatically looked left and right the same as she did before accelerating.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pickup barreling through the red light at the last moment, tensed as he opened his mouth to warn her. But Cassie had already spotted it and punched the gas.
The SUV shot forward with enough force to jerk his head back against the headrest, clearing the middle of the intersection just a split second before the pickup reached it, narrowly avoiding being T-boned on Schumacher’s side by a foot or two.
Conversation in the backseat stopped instantly, and the speeding truck whipped past their rear bumper and out of view. “That asshole could’ve killed me at that speed,” Schumacher burst out. “Did he run a red?”
“Yes,” Tristan answered as Cassie drove on.
“Glad you saw him, because I sure as hell didn’t,” Schumacher’s colleague said.
“I was told she’s the best they’ve got behind the wheel,” Schumacher said.
“And thank God for that,” the other man said with a smile.
Cassie drove without reply as though nothing had happened, the two of them watching their surroundings carefully. Schumacher and his guest continued their earlier conversation.
They arrived at the luxury hotel without further incident twelve minutes later. Tristan escorted Schumacher to his room, then back down to the lobby and into the restaurant to meet his friend.
“You don’t have to babysit me in here,” Schumacher said to him and Cassie near the hostess stand, then shot Cassie a smile. “Unless you’d like to join us.”
“We’ll be fine at our own table,” Tristan said before she could answer, sick of his bullshit. And he didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk anymore.
“Suit yourselves.” Schumacher and his friend followed the hostess to a plush, tufted leather booth near the back of the restaurant.
Tristan and Cassie hung back, choosing a table near the entrance. It allowed them to see anyone coming or going, with the bonus of putting distance between Cassie and Schumacher.
They sat on opposite sides of the table, each keeping their eye on half the room. “You hungry?” he asked her.