Chapter 10
TEN
JAVI
When Preston Hollister enters a room, the atmosphere changes. I’ve observed this countless times as his security detail—conversations pause, postures straighten, attention shifts.
The Sandpiper lobby is no exception. Twenty-three minutes after his call to Teddy (I’ve been counting every second), Preston strides through the front doors in a perfectly tailored suit, followed by Karina Clark-Randall, Hollister Hotel Group’s head of PR. Her expression reveals nothing as she surveys the media circus.
“Wow,” Teddy murmurs beside me. “He brought in the big guns.”
I maintain my security stance as Preston’s gaze sweeps the lobby, taking in the police officers interviewing staff, Roberts being escorted toward a patrol car, before landing on Teddy in her housekeeping uniform with me at her side.
The subtle tightening at the corner of his mouth is the only indication of his anger as he approaches us.
“Theodora,” he greets her, voice measured. “Javi. Quite the situation you’ve created.”
“Actually,” Teddy responds, straightening her shoulders, “I think we’ve solved a situation. The hotel manager was running a theft ring targeting guest valuables.”
Preston’s gaze shifts to the police activity. “So I see. And the media presence?”
“Roberts’ doing,” Teddy replies. “He discovered my identity and thought he was exposing some scandal about me being disowned and forced to work as a housekeeper.”
Karina steps forward, her professional mask softening. “Which you’ve apparently transformed into a story about progressive management training. Quick thinking, Teddy.”
Relief flickers across Teddy’s face. “I improvised.”
“Effectively,” Karina acknowledges, glancing at her phone. “The hashtag #HollisterHousekeeper is trending locally, and the initial coverage is surprisingly positive. People love the ‘privileged heiress learns the value of hard work’ angle.”
Preston’s expression remains unreadable. “We’ll discuss the complete situation privately. Karina will handle the press from here.” He turns to me. “Javi, secure a private space.”
I nod, smoothly shifting to executive protection mode. “The manager’s office is currently a crime scene, but there’s a conference room on the second floor.”
“Perfect.” Preston turns to Karina. “Give us thirty minutes, then we’ll provide an official statement.”
Karina nods, already moving toward the reporters with a practiced smile. I’ve seen her work before—in thirty minutes, she’ll transform this chaos into a perfectly orchestrated PR opportunity.
As I lead Preston and Teddy toward the elevators using service corridors, I notice the change in Teddy’s posture. Gone is the slightly hunched stance of “Theresa Holden.” She walks with her chin up, shoulders back, even in the rumpled housekeeping uniform. Eight days of physical labor haven’t diminished her; they’ve strengthened her.
My fingers itch to touch the small of her back as we walk, a protective gesture I’ve allowed myself only in moments of crisis. I keep my hands firmly at my sides.
The conference room is empty. I check connecting rooms and position myself near the door as Preston and Teddy settle at the table.
“You should join us, Javi,” Preston says, surprising me. “Since you’re clearly involved in... whatever this is.”
I take a seat beside Teddy, close enough to catch the faint scent of industrial cleaner and something distinctly her beneath it, yet maintaining enough distance to appear professional.
Preston leans back, studying us both. “Start from the beginning. The actual beginning, not whatever story you’ve concocted for the press.”
Teddy takes a deep breath and launches into the full account—her first days as a housekeeper, the discovery of the thefts, Roberts’ increasing suspicion of “Theresa,” our investigation using the tracked jewelry, and today’s confrontation. Her hands move animatedly as she speaks, occasionally brushing mine when she gestures. Each contact sends a current through my skin that I struggle to mask.
I contribute occasionally, filling in security details. Throughout the explanation, Preston’s expression remains neutral, though his eyebrows rise when Teddy describes earning the respect of the housekeeping staff.
When she finishes, Preston is silent. Then, unexpectedly, a small smile touches his lips.
“You uncovered an organized theft ring that our regular security audits missed,” he says. “Found evidence solid enough for police action. And turned what could have been a PR nightmare into a potentially valuable marketing angle for Hollister Hotels.”
Teddy blinks, color rising in her cheeks. “You’re... not angry?”
“Oh, I’m furious about several aspects of this situation,” Preston clarifies, his tone remarkably calm. “The unauthorized investigation. The reckless risks. The fact that my head of executive security was participating in amateur detective work rather than following protocols.” His gaze shifts to me, and I accept the rebuke with a slight nod.
“But,” he continues, turning back to Teddy, “I’m also impressed. You committed to learning the business from the ground up, and you did it. No shortcuts, no special treatment, even when it got difficult. That shows character.”
Teddy’s expression transforms like sunrise breaking over the ocean—stunned disbelief giving way to dawning joy. Her hand twitches toward mine under the table before she catches herself.
“So... my three-week experiment?” she asks cautiously.
“Is clearly unnecessary to continue in its current form,” Preston says decisively. “The objective has been achieved, albeit unorthodox. You’ve demonstrated initiative, perseverance, and unexpected leadership qualities.”
He stands, straightening his already immaculate suit. “The assistant manager position we discussed initially is yours if you want it. Though after today’s media coverage, you might consider a role that leverages your newfound popularity. Karina has already suggested a special project focusing on staff development and operational improvements.”
Teddy’s lips part in surprise. “I... need to think about it.”
“Of course,” Preston agrees. “Take the weekend. We’ll meet Monday morning to discuss next steps.” He checks his watch. “Now, I need to coordinate with Karina on the official statement. Javi, a word before I go?”
“Your assignment protecting Teddy technically ended the moment her cover was blown,” he says after we walk to the far corner of the room. “However, given the media situation, I’d like you to continue as her security detail through the weekend, until this dies down.”
My pulse quickens, though my face remains impassive. “Understood, sir.”
Preston studies me, his gaze uncomfortably perceptive. “Your reports during this assignment have been uncharacteristically brief, Javi.”
I say nothing, waiting for the direct question I can sense coming.
“Come on, Javi,” Preston says, dropping the formal CEO tone for the more casual one we use when sharing a scotch after hours in his office. “We’ve known each other too long for this. Is there anything I should know about your relationship with my cousin?”
The correct answer burns in my throat. Yes, Preston, I kissed Teddy. Yes, there are feelings involved that complicate everything. Yes, I’ve crossed every professional line I swore I never would.
Instead, I meet his gaze with the candor our friendship has earned. “Teddy conducted herself admirably under difficult circumstances. Any details beyond that should come from her.”
Preston holds my gaze for a beat longer than necessary, then sighs. “You know, when Brogan suggested assigning you to keep an eye on her, I thought it would be the simplest arrangement possible. You’re the most professional person I know.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Should have known Teddy would find a way to complicate things.”
Preston’s expression suggests he hears what I’m not saying, but he simply nods. “Fair enough. See her home safely and keep the media at bay. We’ll reassess on Monday.”
With that, he exits, leaving Teddy and me alone in the conference room. The silence stretches between us, charged with everything we haven’t said about what happens next.
“So,” Teddy says, twisting her fingers in her lap, “I guess I’m not fired.”
A smile breaks through my professional mask. “Apparently not. In fact, it sounds like you’ve earned a promotion.”
She laughs, the sound washing over me like warm waves. “Only in my family would uncovering a theft ring qualify as a successful job interview.”
“The Hollisters have unique performance metrics,” I agree, allowing myself to relax.
Teddy’s expression grows more serious, her eyes meeting mine directly. “And what about you? Back to executive protection for Preston?”
The question touches on everything we’ve been avoiding—the temporary nature of our connection, the professional boundaries we’ve crossed, the uncertain future beyond The Sandpiper.
“Not right away,” I answer. “Preston has extended my assignment as your security detail through the weekend, until the media interest subsides.”
“My security detail,” Teddy repeats, a shadow crossing her features. “Back to strictly professional, then?”
The question hangs between us, loaded with implications. In eight chaotic days, we’ve moved from reluctant bodyguard and stubborn socialite to something that defies the neat categorization of my security training.
“That depends,” I say, reaching across the small space between us to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Is that what you want?”
Teddy’s breath catches at the contact. “No,” she says simply, her eyes never leaving mine. “It’s not what I want at all.”
The honesty in her voice breaks through my last hesitation. “Then we have the weekend to figure out what comes next. Away from The Sandpiper, away from housekeeping carts and theft investigations.”
“Away from supply closets and emergency strategy meetings,” she adds, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Although,” I continue, my voice dropping lower as I close the remaining distance between us, “I did promise Preston I’d see you home safely.”
Her eyes brighten, a flush spreading across her cheeks. “That sounds very... professional of you. And I definitely need a security escort with all those reporters outside.”
“Exactly,” I agree, fighting a smile. “Just following orders.”
The space between us has shrunk to almost nothing. After days of pretending, of careful distance in public, of stolen moments in supply closets, the prospect of being truly alone together—no assignments, no disguises, no imminent crisis—sends heat coursing through my veins.
My hand finds hers on the table, our fingers intertwining as I lean closer, drawn by the gravity of everything that’s been building between us since that first day.
A knock at the door shatters the moment. Karina appears, her expression apologetic.
“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re ready for the official statement. Teddy, we’d like you to stand with Preston while he addresses the press. The ‘dedicated housekeeper secretly learning the business’ angle is gold, and having you still in uniform sells it perfectly.”
Teddy nods, reluctantly pulling her hand from mine. “One last performance as Theresa Holden, housekeeper extraordinaire.”
“After this, we’ll get you home for some well-deserved rest,” Karina promises, her gaze flickering between us with understanding. “Javi, we’ll need you providing visible security during the statement. The ‘bodyguard protecting undercover heiress’ angle adds another compelling layer to the story.”
Of course it does. Our professional roles becoming part of the narrative—perfect irony.
“Ready to face the cameras one more time?” I ask as Karina steps back to take a call.
Teddy smooths down her rumpled uniform, confidence replacing her earlier vulnerability. “Ready. Though I’m definitely looking forward to never wearing this polyester blend again.”
“I don’t know,” I say, allowing myself a moment of unguarded appreciation. “I’ve grown oddly fond of the uniform.”
Teddy laughs, the sound igniting something in my chest. “Then I’ll be sure to keep it as a souvenir. Maybe for special occasions.”
The implication sends my thoughts in decidedly unprofessional directions, which I rein in as Karina returns to escort us downstairs.
The lobby has transformed. The chaotic media scrum has become a proper press area, with Hollister Hotels banners somehow already in place. Preston stands near a hastily assembled podium, looking every inch like the corporate leader about to turn a crisis into victory.
Karina directs Teddy to stand beside Preston, positioning me behind them—visible security, part of the image. As cameras flash and Preston begins his statement about Hollister Hotels’ innovative management training and security excellence, I maintain my professional stance, eyes scanning the crowd automatically.
But my awareness centers on Teddy—the proud set of her shoulders, the subtle curve of her neck, the way she stands taller now than she did eight days ago when this all began. I’ve protected people professionally for years, but never has that protection felt so personal, so essential to my own well-being.
As Preston concludes his remarks to enthusiastic press questions, Teddy glances back at me, a private smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I grin, knowing with absolute certainty that whatever comes after this moment—professionally, personally, or somewhere in the complicated space between—will be worth every risk.