Page 22 of Triple Protection
"Please wait a day to post that?" Liam asks Heather gently. She shoots me a questioning look.
"Are you in danger?" The look of genuine concern for me creates a tight band around my chest. My own mother wasn't concerned enough about me to stick around and this complete stranger is worried about my safety.
Swallowing a lump of emotion, I give her a reassuring smile. "Not anymore." I say, nodding my head towards my boys.
I can tell she wants to press me for more details, but she lets it go. She gives me a strong, bruising hug, the way a mother would while sending their kid off to college. We say our goodbyes and I turn towards the SUV.
I groan as I look at my phone with the latest text exchange with Marshal. I know he's being protective, but I hate the tone of his message. But then it is hard to convey tone in a text message. I feel like a child about to be scolded by a parent and my hands start to tingle. I hold up a finger to the boys before turning and walking a little way down the sidewalk for some privacy. I call Marshal back.
"Marshal, I'm so sorry about that. I didn't want to leave Heather waiting for me. What's up?" I say, trying to feign lightness.
"Hey Angela," he says, sounding... down? Disappointed? "No, you're right. I just saw the pictures you took with a few fans at the airport and noticed one of the guys standing next to you in the picture. It's not a good look. We don't want your maleaudience getting turned off because they think you're taken, and we don't want your female audience distracted by your bodyguards."
I start to question the validity of his argument. I certainly don't care aboutturning offmy male audience because I don't want them turned on in the first place. And I really doubt my female audience was going to ask about a pair of male slacks in the picture.
"Just try to be careful when taking pictures, alright? Maybe ask your bodyguards to step back, or at least step out of the photo? We have to keep the audience happy." He is right. Asking the boys just to step back a foot or two is harmless. And I pay Marshal well to know what he is doing.
"You're right, Marshal. I will. I'm sorry."
"It's no problem, hun, just a mistake. You're going to meet up with that girl in a wheelchair now?" Victoria had texted that their first appointment wasn't until tomorrow, so they were free to meet up today.
"Yeah, I'm thinking mani/pedis and maybe a movie?"
"What about that 'swim with the dolphins' exhibit at the local aquarium? I can call and see if I can get VIP time at the tank? Would make for great publicity shots."
"Oh my God, Marshal, that would be amazing! I'd love you forever if you could get that. I'll text the mom and see if that's okay with them. You'll text me when you know?"
"Of course, hun. I'll text you. Enjoy. Ciao."
Chapter seventeen
Liam
Liam
Angel's tour of Her Secret did nothing to ease the growing attraction I have towards Angela. I imagined Angela in each of the setups displayed around the warehouse and had to shove both hands in my front pockets to hide my raging erection. Thank God Brick and Alex were there too because half of my brain cells had been starved of oxygen by the blood that relocated to my groin and I was more than a little distracted.
Fuck, this was getting harder. I knew taking on her case would be a challenge, but it's getting more challenging by the day. Being near her, her jasmine and floral scent that lived permanently throughout the house, watching her through the security system, laughing with her at dinner. I knew she was beautiful before we even took the job, but I had no idea how much I would come to like her; to crave her. I find excuses to be in the same room as her and have to school my stares whenever she was around.
"Not anymore." Angela had said. That one little phrase repeats itself in my head as we drive to the aquarium. She feels safe with us. Her faith and her trust in us moves me. Most clients trust us to do our jobs and keep them safe, but something about Angela's trust seems heavier. It feels more important, somehow, like it's hard earned. Men have only ever been a source of headache for her, so to have earned her trust and vulnerability is weighty.
I still think of the comments she deals with on a daily basis and the VR deepfake and my stomach sours as my blood pressure rises, but she's safe right now, and happy, and I know we're doing everything in our power to catch the fucker.
And in the meantime, I need to keep it in my pants. She gets enough disgusting male attention; she doesn't need it at home. I can look but not touch. But fuck, does that not get harder every day. And it's not only her beauty - which is otherworldly. Her large blue eyes, her champagne blonde hair, just long enough to wrap around my fist, and her miles of soft, smooth skin. She's kind and thoughtful and caring. She's a celebrity with over a million followers and she's carved time out to do some good to a mother and her daughter, without a camera in sight. She's not doing it for the attention like some influencers do - only giving out money and gifts if someone's there to record it. She does it because she can, and that's enough for her.
After the tour of the facility, we meet up with the mom and daughter from the airport - Emma and Victoria. They get smoothies and manis and pedis together and now they're at an outdoor aquarium, where she arranged a private hour for the three of them to swim with dolphins. Brick stayed back at the hotel to sleep, but Alex and I are here. He insisted on coming since we hadn't had the time to properly vet and arrange today's visit. Instead, we take turns with our heads on swivels. This area of the aquarium is private, with one entrance and exit divided by moveable barriers, but we stay vigilant anyway.
"She's something else, huh?" I offer, nudging Alex a little and nodding my head at where Angela is in the water. All three girls squeal with joy.
Alex grunts in response.
"Seriously, dude? How long are you going to hate her just because of her gender? Do you really think she's anything like Molly or Joanne?" He remains silent. I shake my head. "You're a lost cause, man. How are you ever going to find a Mrs. Ricci if you go on hating all women?"
"Who says I want a Mrs. Ricci?"
"Well shit, I think we all do, don't we? I'm not visiting your sorry ass in the nursing home." That's a lie, of course I will.
"No, you'll be right there with me. Next to Brick." A sad chuckle escapes him. "I feel sorry for those nurses already. You'll flirt with them, I'll glare at them, and Brick won't let them change his diaper. We're all fucked."