Chapter 3
Walker
Walker sat at the table for the next four hours, digging through all of the files she'd given him related to her father or the mysterious deaths.
Nothing seemed connected. He grunted, pushed away from the table, and stood up.
She had gone to bed two hours ago but told him he could have the room across the hallway.
He stumbled toward the bedroom, leaving the door open, and fell into bed.
The best quality his SEAL teammates always praised was his ability to sleep instantly. It wasn't two seconds later when he heard her voice.
"Walker, Walker."
He jolted up in bed, instantly grabbing his gun.
She stood in the doorway, already dressed for the day.
"I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving," she said.
He got out of bed. "Wait a second. It's already morning. Wow. You're going to work today?"
She nodded and fiddled with her earring, a feminine gesture he noted she'd always done. "Yes, I have meetings."
"Tell your meetings they're going to be late. I need to get ready." He hesitated. "Do you have something fitting for me to wear?"
He rushed to the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and jumped in the shower.
She banged on the door. "Walker, what are you talking about?"
"I'm not letting you out of my sight today," he called out as the water cascaded over him. "I guess I'll have to be your security." He scrubbed quickly, got out, and toweled off.
She banged on the door again. "I don't have anything for you to wear."
"Then I'll put on my dirty clothes, and we'll stop somewhere on the way to the office," he replied.
"Walker, are you serious?" she exclaimed.
He opened the door while pulling his T-shirt on. His pants were already on. "You're my project now. I'm going to be with you until this whole thing's figured out." The bathroom's warm steam escaped into the hallway. "You did tell my brother you felt like your life was in danger, right?"
Her eyes widened, and then she nodded. "Yes. But I have Henry, who has been my father's bodyguard, and Thomas. In fact, he's out there waiting for me right now. I'm running nearly four hours later than normal anyway."
Walker shook his head. "Tell them to go on. You're going to drive yourself today."
She hesitated. He pulled on his jacket and his boots. "What's wrong?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. It's just, if you come with me, people are going to know that I have a bodyguard."
Walker thought about that. "Good point." He moved past her toward the kitchen, ignoring how good she smelled. She looked good too, not that he would let on he thought so. The last time he'd been around this woman, he had asked her to marry him, which hadn't turned out well—probably for the best.
In the kitchen. He pulled out two plates and opened the refrigerator door, finding some eggs.
"I need five minutes for a little omelet. You want one?" he asked. "I usually don't sleep this late, it's past lunch, but I feel like breakfast."
She looked beside herself. "Walker, are you serious?"
He found a bowl and cracked five eggs. "You want one or not?" He started whisking.
She let out a sigh while texting. "I guess I'll have a little bit, but we are really late."
He pulled two more eggs out and whisked them. "All right, here we go." He found some cheese in the refrigerator.
Fifteen minutes later, they were both eating at the kitchen island.
She looked deflated. "I had to push all my meetings back, but I don't meet with the board until four, so I'll be able to get some work done before that meeting."
He shrugged, confused. "Why did you reach out to my brother if you're acting like my presence is an inconvenience?"
That made her stop short. Her eyes fluttered, and he remembered that fluttering.
He remembered this woman. How many times during missions had he thought about her, especially before they thought they were going to die?
How many times had he wished for a different outcome, that she would have said yes and told him he could only have two years in the SEALs before retiring?
Anything that would have changed how it all ended for him.
"I just like to be punctual, and I like for people to be able to count on me," she finally said.
He stood and picked up her plate. She'd only had four bites. He placed his plate in the sink and ate the rest of hers. He grabbed a glass and got a drink of water.
"Well, punctuality isn't really my thing when it comes to security. If I don't feel like something's safe, we won't do it. I guess I'm going to have to pose as a new corporate executive or something if you don't want me to be security."
She let out a light off-key laugh. "Right. Like anyone would believe you were anything except security."
Her quip made him laugh. He went to the little countertop that had a basket of keys. Before she'd come home, he'd done reconnaissance work. She had a Hellcat in the garage.
"Let's go. I'll drive." He didn't ask. He just went out, got inside the car, and fired it up, backing out for her.
Once again, her mouth hung open as she got inside the car. "I knew you were always bossy, but this is ridiculous." She shut the door and put on her seat belt.
He took off, heading toward her office location he had already memorized. The traffic moved steadily around them, the city's skyline gleaming in the distance.
"Really, more ridiculous than saying no to marrying me?" he asked.
This time she froze. She didn't move.
He let out a light laugh. "Hey, stop being so easy to torture. Okay, that was what, fourteen years ago? I think we're good. I don't cry in my sleep every night, if you're worried about it."
Her face reddened, which told him everything. Maybe she did still think about him, or she was embarrassed. He didn't have to keep wondering, because she said, "Look, let's just talk about that because I've had to feel guilty about this for fourteen years."
Once again, he laughed. "Well, I've had a bruised ego about it, so I guess guilt is something."
He spun away from the route. Instead of heading into the office, he turned toward a department store.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I told you, I need to ditch these clothes." He grunted. "Hope you have the corporate card. But I don't think the department store is going to be too much."
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Head back closer to my building. I'm going to reach out to my private tailor."
He circled the block. "Wow. Private tailor, okay?"
She scoffed. "Like your family doesn't have one."
He shrugged, brightly colored storefronts passing by. "I don't know. Reed probably has one."
She pointed to a building two doors down from hers. "Just go ahead and park on the street. Anton is going to meet us at the doors."
He parked and waited.
She put her hand on his arm. "Listen, you caught me off guard with that proposal back then. I didn't know what to say. I mean, I'd just gotten accepted to Harvard."
He looked at her hand on his arm. There was still this crazy chemistry between them, something he'd always wondered if he'd just imagined with first love.
"I scared you off? I mean, we were pretty close back then." If he'd learned anything from being a Navy SEAL, it was to go hard at a target.
She hesitated. "Well, I just mean, I wasn't ready to get married."
He opened his door. "Honey, I wasn't your guy. That's okay. You don't have to explain." He shut the door and went around. She got out.
Was he stupid? He actually still felt the bruised ego. They walked toward the door, and someone opened it. The man looked like he owned the well-tailored suit he was wearing.
"Ms. Clark." His eyes came to Walker, and he looked uncertain. "What can I help you with today?"
Her voice turned poised. "I have a new head of security we just recruited, and he needs some suitable suits."
Walker eyed the man who exuded Italian Prada elegance. "Nothing too fancy, nothing too tight. It needs to be comfortable, breathable."
"I can do that." Antonio started leading them down a hallway.
Walker recognized that this was, in fact, a place where apparently very rich people went to get clothes. He walked into a room filled with hundreds of jackets, pants, ties, and all manner of menswear.
Antonio hesitated, giving him a hard look, and moved toward the back of the room. "We outfit several military men who need clothing they can move in as well as breathe." He gave a light smile.
Walker ignored it with only a cocked eyebrow. "Moving and breathing sounds good."
Walker didn't like suits. He preferred his military garb. He would probably forever wear casual military-type clothes and standard-issue boots.
Antonio went to a section that did look nice. Walker touched some of the materials. They did feel breathable.
Antonio grabbed a measuring tape and measured him quickly.
Walker liked the man's professional manner. He didn't feel like he was at some pretentious boutique.
Walker looked at the various clothes, and he and Antonio picked several shirts, ties, pants, and outfits. Antonio even showed him some shoes he could run in.
"Nice," Walker said, heading to the changing room. He turned back and saw she was staring at him, possibly giving her the kind of look he wanted to give her—studying. He longed to study her when she wasn't paying attention. It was harder when people were watching you.
After trying on several outfits, they decided on more than enough—some business suits, casual clothes, shoes for both, windbreakers, and sunglasses. As they walked to the front to pay, he said to her, "I got this."
She already had her corporate card out. "Are you kidding me? I get to treat you like Julia Roberts in that movie where Richard Gere bought all those clothes for her. Now you're ruining it."
Walker had to laugh. She knew this would be hard for him.
After she paid, he told Antonio, "Thank you," and carried everything out to the car. He was wearing a suit and some new shoes. They did feel good, breathable. He'd have to remember Antonio.
She directed him where to park as they went into her building. Of course, she had security. He eyed all the security personnel and noted that, apparently, her guy who was supposed to bring her in tonight was waiting for them. He was giving Walker a withering stare.
"Ms. Clark, when did you hire a new bodyguard?" the man asked.
She kept her face blank. "That's none of your business, Thomas, but until further notice, you can help with security around the building. Mr. Walker will be at my side."
Thomas looked out of sorts. "Well, what about Henry? Do you want him to escort you back to your house tonight?"
Walker moved in front of her. "That won't be needed. Thank you."
She eyed Walker with a cocked eyebrow. They walked to the elevator. She pressed the button for the eleventh floor.
As they ascended, he said, "Cameras everywhere."
She nodded. "Yep."
He was processing this. The truth was, he didn't know who was watching them or listening. That was a mistake many people made when they assumed they had security. They didn't know all the eyes watching them or where the footage was going.
He wanted to go to the security room immediately, dismantle everything, but he knew that wasn't the solution. "Okay, then we go through this day, and we talk later."
She seemed to understand. As they walked down the hallway toward her office, many people watched them.
He imagined this is what it would have been like if they had gotten married, although he looked better dressed than he normally did.
She was a knockout—her fire-red hair, green eyes, and elegant figure.
Plus, she was classy in how she carried herself.
He'd always teased her that she'd been stuck up even when they were little, and that wasn't because of her money.
She had been even when they'd been at the lake, running trails, jumping off rope swings.
He forced his mind back to the present. Not paying attention would be a problem.
He needed to focus. Mission, mission, mission.
His phone buzzed. It was his brother Reed, who seemed to read his mind: "Status?
" His brother had given him this phone, told him it was completely secure and safe, which he believed.
His brother didn't skimp on security. He'd recently met his brother's security guy who took pride in being able to hack anything and make their stuff unhackable.
"I'm with her. I'll report tonight," he texted back.
She had her phone out, texting someone.
"Your girlfriend?" she asked quietly.
They got to her office, and she punched in a code.
He watched her do it and memorized it. "You jealous?" he quipped.
Once again, she blushed. He wondered if she could be jealous. That was interesting. The fact was, he knew everything about her.
She moved to the desk and gestured for him to get a chair. "You could sit here and look through these files."
He looked at the chair but didn't sit. "How safe are you up here?"
She shrugged. "Pretty safe. I mean, I'll just be in my office for the next hour until the meeting."
He turned toward the door. "What floor is your camera room?"
"Security is on seven," she replied.
He nodded. "Where are your meetings?"
"In that corporate office to your left," she nodded.
"I'll be back for the meeting." He left, closing the door behind him.