Chapter 12 Kat
KAT
KAT: I have a problem…
BAILEY: You’re going to have to be more specific
Iwant to be offended by that, but based on my current situation, I can’t be. Clarification is definitely warranted.
KAT: I ran into Tom in the hall last night
KAT: He’d just gotten out of the shower and only had a towel around his waist
KAT: And I got caught up writing and with all the buildup from the day and the situation…I also got myself off
KAT: Like right before I left my office and ran into him
BAILEY: Holy.
BAILEY: Shitballs.
KAT: Isn’t this where your southern charm is supposed to kick in?
BAILEY: Well golly, and bless your heart!
KAT: That’s worse
BAILEY: I know. That’s why I kept it to myself the first time
I’d tossed and turned all night, completely unable to sleep, my mind replaying my encounter with Tom in the hallway. The way he looked all chiseled and stoic. I fan myself with my hand, thankful she can’t see me.
Because I need one of us to be focused and right now, it isn’t me.
BAILEY: This is probably not the relevant part, but I’m SO excited to read what you wrote!
KAT: Definitely not the relevant part
BAILEY: So you saw your hot bodyguard mostly naked?
KAT: Yes
BAILEY: With your post-orgasmic glow?
KAT: Yes
BAILEY: What did he say?
KAT: He was professional
KAT: But I was rambling about getting the awkwardness out of the way and gah! I could not stop talking and it feels like he KNEW I’d just gotten off and now I have to face him!
BAILEY: Do you want him to know?
KAT: Of course not!
BAILEY: Then don’t say anything. Put on something that makes you feel confident. Put some makeup on and fix your hair and go downstairs like the badass you are
KAT: But…
BAILEY: He can speculate all he wants, girl, but no one is allowed to make you feel bad for indulging in a little self-care in your own home
KAT: I can write it but my reality is so lacking
KAT: But I shouldn’t be embarrassed, right?
BAILEY: Right
KAT: I am a badass bestselling author and I’m going to act like it
BAILEY: That’s my girl
BAILEY: Now go get dressed and get downstairs before he thinks you’re stalling
I don’t let myself hesitate as my foot hits the first step.
And then the second.
My stride is confident as I descend to the first floor where I can smell coffee brewing and hear the tapping of computer keys.
It’s like music to my ears.
“Good morning,” I say with my professional, networking smile firmly in place, the one that makes me look both approachable and interested in whatever someone is saying.
My linen slacks are comfortable but professional with pockets and a relaxed fit that I paired with a black three-quarter-sleeve sweater.
“Morning,” Tom replies in a low voice, his tone soothing and giving nothing away.
I guess we’re on the same page about last night.
And that’s a good thing, because I have a full schedule and I need him to get on board.
“I have three events this week. Wednesday and Thursday are both at local schools and then Saturday I’m at a chain bookstore in Chicago. Hazel will be there and another author I haven’t met but who is also from the area.”
Tom nods. “I’ll attend the school events and Ozzy will be just off property, and then we’ll have a small team for the Chicago event.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” I ask, retrieving the mocha coffee creamer from the fridge and pouring it into my mug.
“We’re not taking any chances. More people equals more chances for things to go sideways.”
“Fine. They’re also announcing the winner of the Chicago Children’s Outreach Award. If I win, I’ll have to give a speech at the black-tie dinner at the end of the month. If I don’t, I’ll still have to attend as a nominee. Hazel is also a nominee. It’s very elite. I couldn’t even get Colt a ticket.”
“Give me the details so I can send them to Royce and we can start formulating a plan.”
“You think this will still be going on?” I ask, cradling my cup as he watches me, his hands hovering over the keyboard.
“Hopefully not, but we can’t risk going in blind if it is.”
“People are going to ask questions. No one is going to believe that a children’s book author requires a bodyguard let alone a team.”
“And even without your alter ego as Sloane Daniels, you’re still Colt Harrington’s sister.
For all intents and purposes, he’s a celebrity and by default you’re exposed to an increased level of attention.
We’ll work that angle—that you were targeted and we’re taking precautions.
You’re not required to tell anyone anything. ”
“Way to make a girl feel special, Mr. Oakden,” I say wryly.
“My job is to make you feel safe, Miss Harrington.”
“Back to that again?”
“Just trying to keep up.” His face is expressionless except for the tiniest twitch of his lips. I would have missed it if I wasn’t watching.
But I was.
I totally was.
Because I can be a confident badass and still ogle my bodyguard, like right now when he’s sitting at my table with a tight black T-shirt hugging every ripple of muscle.
I’ve got to find the perks where I can.
“Anything else?”
“I went through a neighbor’s doorbell camera footage from your time away.”
Swallowing hard, I set my mug on the counter and cross my arms over my chest. “Did you see anything?”
“A dark four-door vehicle approached the house on Sunday afternoon after you’d already left.
It’s too far away to tell if the driver is a male or female or any distinguishing features other than dark clothes.
You can see the person put something in the mailbox, get back in the car, and drive away.
No one else besides the mail carrier goes to your house on Monday.
On Tuesday, a car matching the one from Sunday can be seen driving slowly past the house. ”
“So, they realized I wasn’t home?”
“That’s the working theory. Then they worked on locating you through some other method.”
“How?”
“Royce is working on it.” He looks at his watch and then back at me. “He’s flying in from Nashville and should be landing within the hour.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I manage, my eyelids fluttering shut as I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I know it’s scary but we’re the best at what we do. We have a perfect record and I’ll be damned before I let that change.”