Chapter 2
Kate
Heated voices in the hall alerted her to a problem.
She was already on her feet when the door to her office burst open to reveal a red-faced man with a vein all but popping in his forehead.
In the split-second between the door slamming and his mouth opening, she identified the intruder as Caucasian.
Blood shot eyes. At least six feet. Brown hair not just receded, but in full retreat.
And a distinctly off-kilter balance. He had no weapons in his hands, no telltale bulges under his jacket sleeves.
“Where the hell is he?” He demanded, stalking toward the door to Richard’s office, but Kate stepped into his path, her right hand stiff and ready to jab.
“Mr. Prentiss is otherwise occupied.” She kept her tone cordial and locked gazes with the infuriated man. His scowl seemed designed to intimidate. Unfortunately for him, Kate was far from impressed. “If you’d like to make an appointment, we can consult the calendar.”
“Missy, get out of my way before I move you.” The man’s bellow offered another clue—it reeked of alcohol.
“That would be an assault charge.” She had a panic button that would alert Prentiss’s security detail, but she left it alone.
Despite his antagonistic demeanor and threats, he’d stopped a good foot away from her.
“One more step and we can make it battery. Now I’m sure whatever issue you have for Mr. Prentiss can be easily resolved. Why don’t you take a seat?”
Most bullies got their jollies by inciting a reaction. By denying him one she hoped to defuse the situation. The door behind her opened and every muscle in Kate’s body coiled. She didn’t shift, keeping her full attention on the stranger.
“Dad.” Richard’s aggrieved tone eased the tension in her spine, but not her vigilance. “Are you seriously threatening my assistant?”
“Where’s Miranda?” Richard’s father looked past her to his son. Despite the filial acknowledgement, Kate didn’t see any resemblance between the brute in front of her and the lean, dangerously handsome man she’d been working across from all day.
“She’s not here, obviously. Ms. Braddock, please accept my apologies on behalf of my father. He’s not usually quite so much of a jackass on first acquaintance.” The tiredness simmering beneath his voice kept her on alert. “Dad, I have a call that I am now late for can this wait?”
“No, dammit.” The man lurched forward, apparently intending to bulldoze right through Kate.
She made a split-second judgment call and blocked him by putting her foot right between his as he stepped.
A calculated move—it was designed to look like she had attempted to get out of his way—and they collided.
His already unsteady balance had him pitching to the side.
She caught his arm and applied pressure as her knee glanced off the back of his.
She had to hit the desk with her hip, but he was seated in a chair and Richard had rushed forward to steady her. “My goodness, Mr. Prentiss—please accept my apologies for being in your way.” Not that she felt an ounce of sorrow, but her cover had to be maintained.
“Are you alright?” Richard focused his concern on her and kept his hand on her elbow.
At her nod he turned on his father. The transformation from exhausted to sharp attorney added a distinct edge to his expression.
But instead of saying anything to the man, he reached over her desk and picked up the phone and dialed a three-digit code.
Security.
“This is Richard Prentiss. Benedict Prentiss is in Ms. Braddock’s office, please send a couple of men up to escort him from the building and have a car deliver him home—do not let him drive.” He hung up then folded his arms. “Ms. Braddock, if you don’t mind waiting in my office.”
“You have a call, Mr. Prentiss, and a very busy evening schedule. If you’d like to take care of it, I will see that this issue is handled.
” She kept her body angled between the two men.
Whatever discord existed between them, his father was drunk and Richard could not afford additional injuries—especially not when he’d pushed himself so damn hard already.
A muscle flexed in Richard’s jaw. “This is not covered in our employment contract. No one should have to put up with him.” And didn’t that speak volumes for the contentious relationship between the two.
“That’s hardly a way to talk about your father when I’m sitting right here.” Benedict Prentiss tried to stand, but sat back down abruptly. The bilious look on his face suggested the only real danger he posed now was to the carpeting.
“Mr. Prentiss, go make your call.” Kate decided on a gentle coaxing tone. “We’re on the clock and, as you can see, he’s quite settled in the chair.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Richard murmured, not quite turning his head and yet she could still feel the weight of his regard.
Yes, she did. “But you do need to make that call, and security is already on their way up.” And would be fired if she were in charge.
He hesitated, seemingly aggravated on multiple levels and she didn’t care for the way his jaw continued to tick. “I’ll leave the door open. You stand in it so I can see you, if he gets stupid, just step all the way in and shut the door.”
“So that’s it?” Benedict struggled to his feet. “You just leave me with the skirt and go back to your high and mighty life?”
“Mr. Prentiss, you should sit before you fall down.” Kate moved to intercept the man and put a hand on his arm. This time she applied more than a little pressure and he sat immediately. “I’ll get you some water and your car will be along directly.”
Richard stood in the doorway to his office, his face an unreadable mask.
The phone on her desk rang and Kate didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was the call he expected.
When Richard made no move to return to her office, she answered and asked the princess if they could reschedule the call.
Kate remained standing, and the silence stretched out uncomfortably. The older Prentiss mumbled something, but his son said nothing in response.
Security finally arrived and the two men helped Benedict to his feet—he seemed familiar with both. One of the pair glanced past her to Richard. “Our apologies, Mr. Prentiss. We have a new man on the front desk and he didn’t realize protocol.”
Richard’s gaze never left his father. “Please send a memo around to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The security guard nodded and they hustled Benedict out. After they closed the door, Richard glanced at her. “Cancel my five o’clock call. I think I’ll have that break after I talk to Frankie.”
Kate nodded, she approved but had to maintain her professional demeanor. An assistant wasn’t a bodyguard, but her first priority remained his safety—even from himself. “Absolutely, Mr. Prentiss. Can I get you anything else?”
“No and skip the coffee. I’m awake now.” His tone made a lie of the words, but he retreated to his office and closed the door.
Kate waited until the light on her phone indicated he was already returning the call to Francesca Grace before pulling out her cell.
Dialing a ten-digit number, she waited for the tones to answer and then put in her code.
Twenty seconds later a secure operator came on the line.
“This is Braddock. I need an expedited background on Prentiss, Benedict, and any open cases, warrants, or judgments.”
“Standby.” Phone sitting in the cradle of her shoulder, Kate returned to her desk and checked the camera she’d put in Richard’s office.
The angle was decent and he had a phone pressed to his ear and his mouth moved indicating he spoke, but his head was back and his eyes closed.
Shrinking the window and moving it to the upper right-hand corner of her screen, she pulled up the word program and typed in the letters while she waited.
“No open cases or warrants. Several judgments dating back to the early-to mid-90s including three indictments for Ponzi schemes, jail time served from 1994 to 1999, released on parole. Later divorced. Two children from the marriage—Richard Prentiss, attorney, and Barbara, an actress based in London. No close ties to family and at least one, no, make that three open restraining orders.”
“From?”
“The children and the ex-wife.”
“Understood. Wipe the request, authorization four-alpha-foxtrot-four-two.”
“Yes, ma’am. Can I help you with anything else?”
“No.” She hung up, rescheduled his five o’clock call, finished the last letter, and printed them. Her cell phone rang—Peterson’s name and face flashed up from the screen—and she checked the monitor before answering. “Braddock.”
“You put in a request for background information on Benedict Prentiss?” Clipped disapproval hung between every word. Of course, he’d receive notification of every request, even if she had them wiped.
“Yes, sir.” She hadn’t expected the man to put in an appearance, and she needed more information to make sure she did her job effectively.
One day at the office, and she’d already realized that she didn’t know near enough about Prentiss’s colleagues, clients, and daily interactions.
The man headed a law firm with more than two dozen other attorneys.
“He’s not involved, leave it alone.” Peterson didn’t try to explain it.
“Okay, maybe not with the issue at hand, sir, but—”
“Braddock, your assignment is to keep Mr. Prentiss secure. We already know everything we need to about his father. Leave it alone. That’s an order.”