Chapter 1
Jimmy
“ H ave a seat, Jameson.”
I silently huff at the sound of Mr. Hanson’s insistence on my full name instead of my nickname, Jimmy. Of course, I’m not going to fight Charles on that matter; nobody fights Charles Hanson on anything.
I do as he instructs and take a seat in one of the black leather chairs in front of his glass desk. Charles Hanson, owner of Hanson Enterprises, has called me in for some help. He’s not just a whale in the financial world; he’s the giant fucking kahuna. We’ve rubbed elbows at a few events, me being the one to organize the security for several of his friends in the business world. He’s a big client for the security firm several of my Army brothers and I have started, and I’m anxious to get the ball rolling.
“How can I help you, Mr. Hanson?” I ask.
The old man smiles at me, leaning back in his chair. “Please. Call me Charles. I’ve called you in because I need your help.”
“How so?”
Charles shifts in his chair to lean on the desk with his elbows. His hands clasp together tight enough to turn his knuckles white, and his mouth presses into a hard line.
“Someone is after me,” he says in a low whisper.
My eyebrows narrow together. “Do you know who?”
He shakes his head. “No. Unfortunately.”
I try to show consideration and sympathy for this situation even though it’s not uncommon. Billionaire sought after for money or revenge… I see it all the time.
“Where do I come in at?” I press.
For a moment, I think I see some sadness in Charles’ eyes. They shift from me to a picture on his desk. He stares at it a moment before picking it up in his hands and showing me the picture.
“You see this girl?” he asks, the sadness now in his voice.
I nod my head, looking at the face of the familiar blond woman staring back at me. I know who’s in this picture. “Yes,” I say.
It’s a picture of his well-known daughter, Blaire. Blaire Hanson, total bitch and spoiled brat, has been on the cover of Forbes and Vogue several times for her achievements while working for her father… and she’s been in my bed… once. But that’s a story for another time.
Who knew months later, I’d end up taking on a job for her father.
“This is my pride and joy. My only reason to live. My soul . My daughter means more to me than all the money in the world.”
“Is someone after your daughter, sir?”
Charles places the picture of Blaire back down on his desk with a sigh. He rubs his face with both hands before settling his eyes back on me. “I’m not sure,” he says, “but I want her protected in case there is.”
“What exactly is going on?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. While I appreciate Charles’ love for his daughter, I need to know the breach here.
“Someone—not sure who—has been making threats lately toward the company. I’ve had my men on it day and night trying to track down the son of a bitch, but so far, no luck. I need you to watch over Blaire. Keep her protected at all costs. Every second of every day. She’s all I have left, Jameson. She’s the only one left.”
Now I shift in my chair. Is this man asking me what I think he’s asking me? To babysit his god-awful daughter that I thought I got rid of months ago? Fuck me.
“Let me get this straight,” I start. “You want me to be your daughter’s bodyguard? Follow her everywhere she goes day and night?”
Charles nods his head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Jameson.”
I suppress the need to sigh. I’ll definitely be needing a stiff drink when this meeting is over. When I first started this company, yeah, I’d jump at these opportunities but now—now I organize security for high-ranking political officials and billionaires, not their spoiled kids.
“She’s my angel,” he adds. “She’s?—”
The door to the office bursts open. My head jerks to see who’s walking in and?—
Fuck. Me.
Speak of the devil. In she walks—Blaire Hanson.
Her platinum-blond-topped head is tucked down as she looks at the stacks of papers in her hands and walks farther into the room, her heels clacking on the tile. The sleeveless cream dress she’s wearing hugs every slight curve of her lean body. Her nails are perfectly manicured an icy white, just like her cold exterior.
“Daddy, I’ve gone over these reports dozens of times now. I don’t see the?—”
Her voice stops the second her eyes land on me. Her whole body freezes, and I watch as the memory of the one dreadful night we shared flashes through her mind. It almost makes me laugh to know what she’s thinking this very second. I nonchalantly cover my mouth with my fingers to keep from laughing.
“You,” she whispers, narrowing her eyes.
Charles appears to be oblivious to the situation by the way he cheerily says, “Blaire, darling, excellent timing! Meet Jameson Maxwell. He’s going to be watching out for you for the next little bit.”
I smile at Blaire as she shoots daggers at me, obviously not looking forward to her new reality. My, my, my, how funny is this.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says, turning her attention to her father. She crosses her arms over her chest and shifts her weight onto her left hip.
“Sweetheart, we’ve already discussed this.”
“I can take care of myself,” she protests, now looking back at me. “I don’t need some wannabe undercover spy attached to my hip.”
Oh, I’ve been attached to a lot more of you, sweetheart.
“Blaire, this decision is final whether you like it or not.” Charles’ voice is more stern and forceful.
Blaire gives her dad a look that could kill. The room is silent for a moment as the two of them have a stare down with me sitting in between them until Blaire interrupts it. “What about when I travel?”
“He’ll be right with you.”
“And when I go to the store?”
“He’ll push your cart.”
“What about when I’m at home cooking or sleeping?”
“He’ll wash the dishes and tuck you in.”
Charles folds his arms across his chest as if he’s sizing up Blaire. His mouth is pressed into a hard line, and the two hold each other’s gaze for a few more silent seconds. Something tells me this man has seen a lifetime of her behaving this way. I love seeing this woman being put in her place.
Without another word, Blaire’s heels clack loudly on the floor as she walks to Charles’ desk and slaps the papers in front of him.
“Read ’em yourself,” she says, storming out of the room.
The door slams with a loud thump , and it’s all I can do to keep from laughing.
Aw, the princess doesn’t get what she wants. How unfortunate.
Charles gives me an apologetic look. “She just needs some time to get used to it. She’ll come around.”
I give him a large genuine smile. Something tells me I might actually enjoy this job.
“I’ve got all the time in the world.”