4. Beck
CHAPTER 4
Beck
Someone handed me the briefing document the second I walked into the office.
I needed the space as a command center where I could meet with prospective clients, manage operations, and onboard new employees.
Today, my team called me in because someone actually got shot on the job. It didn’t happen often, because my people made sure it didn’t. They performed background checks on everyone surrounding the clients they managed, learned their itineraries, and figured out the most secure ways in and out of a location.
Sometimes, however, things went wrong. We were in the business of protecting some of the most high-profile people in the world from politicians to diplomats and celebrities, it made the work interesting enough for my team of ex Marines and Navy Seals whose highly specialized talents were wasted otherwise.
Still, I didn’t appreciate my people getting shot. Margot Madison was one of my most decorated employees and lived for the most dangerous assignments. The diplomat she was assigned to protect had traveled out of the country.
The details were written on the document in my hands. I squinted, the words blurring together, morphing on the page. I handed it back to Miles as we headed to my office. “Read it to me.”
I couldn’t afford to get the information wrong. We didn’t need to get involved in an international incident because I mixed up a few letters, fucking up the details. Dyslexia did that to you.
“Sure,” Miles said, clearing his throat. “Margot Madison, age twenty-nine, sustained a bullet wound to the upper arm. She was immediately transported to the local hospital and treated on site. Her client, Ambassador Armando Herandez, was unhurt in the incident.”
We made it to my corner office and took our usual seats. “Do we know why she was shot at?”
Miles’ brow furrowed as he read the report. “Initial reports consider it a freak accident.”
I lifted my laptop and pulled up Margot’s work phone. She’d have it on her like other employees. With a few taps, I initiated the video call.
Margot’s disappointed face filled the screen. “Boss, I have it covered. I’ll be out of here in an hour. Two tops.”
I watched as she tugged at the various tubes and IVs connected to her.
“Stop doing that. You’ll hurt yourself,” I said immediately, putting on my best boss voice. It worked on the grown-ups I employed. It failed me when it came to my own seven-year-old.
Margot stopped picking at herself. “Fine. But I am perfectly okay over here. It was practically a graze.”
I heard someone guffaw from Margot’s side of the line.
“Who’s in the room with you?” I asked, haunches raised. She better be in a secure location. I paid well for international insurance so that my people were protected in situations like this. The one thing about international deployments was that it made it harder to extract employees when they were compromised.
“It’s Armando,” Margot said, staring at something—or more likely someone —off screen.
I swiped my face, trying to hide my smile. “Margot, hand the phone to Armando.”
“Do I have to?” she replied, sounding just like Alice. Sometimes managing people was just like parenting. Freakishly similar, really.
As if knowing she was going to lose this battle, Margot handed the phone to Armando.
The portly ambassador dabbed the sweat from his brow as he greeted me.
“Nice to see you again, Ambassador Hernandez. Are you okay? Were you injured at all?”
He continued to dab his face using his monogrammed handkerchief. “I’m perfectly fine. Just shaken up for poor Ms. Madison here.”
I appreciated the sentiment. At least someone in that room was worried about Margot’s condition.
Elbows on the table, I leaned forward. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Boss, I’ll have the full report for you in sixty,” Margot said offscreen.
“I’m not asking for the report right now, Margot. I’m asking the ambassador a question.”
I decided to ignore a few muttered expletives and suppressed a smile as I watched Armando turn beet red.
“Ambassador,” I said, refocusing his attention on me. “Tell me what happened.”
I listened as he recounted walking out of a government building after connecting with the local economic advisor. Given the political unrest in the country, we wanted to have coverage. It didn’t sound like a targeted attack. If anything, it seemed like Margot and Armando got caught up in some local gang activity that had absolutely nothing to do with them.
“God, this is so embarrassing,” Margot said once I finally let Armando pass the phone back to her.
“Nothing embarrassing about being shot,” I firmly let her know.
“They weren't even trying to shoot at us! And I got hit anyway. I feel like this is amateur hour starring me in the lead role.”
I frowned, knowing I’d probably feel similarly. And still, I didn't like her beating herself up. “You could be amazing at your job and still not know the local climate as well as you’d wish. This would have happened to anyone. This could have happened to me.”
Margot was incredulous.
I ignored her. “The team is already figuring out transportation home. Miles is on the phone right now talking to the hospital administrators. We aren't going to let you out until you're cleared.”
“But—” Margot started.
“The last thing we need is a medical incident mid-flight.”
Margot leaned back in the hospital bed, trying to cross her arms, and failing, because of the IV line. “Understood.”
“The Ambassador will go home with you, and you'll be grounded until you've fully healed,” I explained.
Margot didn't like that. I watched amused as she bit her tongue, and probably not just metaphorically.
“Excellent. I need to go take care of a few things but if you need anything day or night, you call me. I want you both on US soil ASAP.” My people came first, and I wouldn’t feel fully settled until she was back home and taken care of by the doctor we had on retainer.
“Yes, sir,” Margot replied, resigned.
I hung up and turned to Miles, rattling off at least a dozen other things we needed to do to plan the extraction.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. This was going to take a little longer than I anticipated.
Especially considering Alice was nearing hour three at Luna’s house.
What the fuck had I been thinking?
Oh, yeah, I didn't have a lot of options.
The face Luna had made when I forced her to watch my daughter: you'd think I'd just told her she had to sit down to take a final exam for a class she’d never been to.
I dragged a hand through my hair, then remembered I’d cropped it short again, just like in my marine days.
Finding any semblance of balance between my responsibilities felt damn near impossible especially under circumstances like this where I had few backup options for watching Alice. So much had changed in the last few years and it was like my mind was still playing catch up. Finding out I was a dad, becoming a one-parent household with a new child I had no idea how to care for, all the while growing my company into something I could be immensely proud of, it was a lot. Sometimes it felt too much to bear.
But then I got to go home to Alice, and all was right in the world.
I needed to find out how my girl was.
Beck
How’s Alice? Everything okay over there?
Luna
Just teaching her about world domination.
Despite myself, I chuckled as I entered the cab that would bring me back to the townhouse.
Beck
And she still has all her limbs and is otherwise unhurt after that masterclass you undoubtedly led?
Luna
Maybe.
Not comforting. But she was a responsible adult, and I knew she could handle my daughter. I trusted her with that even if she didn’t trust herself.
I finished up a few calls and reviewed Margot’s extraction plan, making sure I’d have Margot’s replacement in country within the next few hours. With that in as good of a place as it was going to get, I finally left the office.
Ping .
Speaking of…
Luna sent a photo. I opened my text messages to find a photo of Alice sound asleep on the couch even though it was still early afternoon. Her curly hair was a mess across her face, and a plush black-and-white checkered blanket covered her body.
Luna
She crashed after eating her bodyweight in chocolate. That’s what you’re supposed to serve kids that aren’t your own, right? Lots of sugary goodness so that they’re great for their parents.
Beck
I doubt you keep enough sugar in your house to make her crash. But thanks for the proof-of-life photo. I appreciate that.
Luna
I made her watch Persuasion with me. I think the British accent is what did her in.
Beck
Undoubtedly.
My fingers hovered over the send button. I tapped it, closing the phone and tossing it on the seat next to me. I wanted to ask so many more questions of the woman that left me hanging after that perfect night together.
When she had reappeared in my life a few months ago, it felt like a sign. Like we were drawn back together for a reason after all these years.
And now the perfect one-night stand was now my next-door neighbor.
Before I knew what I was doing, my phone was back in my hands, our text thread on my screen.
I typed and deleted and retyped half a dozen variations of the questions that had haunted me over these past eight years.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one, because when I paused my typing the dots danced. Bouncing up and down before disappearing. Then they’d start their dance again.
Again, they stopped.
It was a fucking tease.
Beck
I’m ten minutes away.
Luna
Good.
Beck
Good.