Chapter 14
Marlise
Every muscle in my body still tensed, I push open the door to the crowded bar looking for a desperately needed drink and a friend.
I find both in Jules, a Kiwi now living in Cleveland, currently working behind the bar at the restaurant two blocks away from the embassy where I work.
I slide onto a barstool and rub my aching temples while I wait for Jules to notice me.
She’s busy serving one of the diplomats who frequent the area, so I pull out my phone and grimace at the half dozen missed calls in the short space of time since I left the office.
Being an executive assistant and translator is hard work, but I love what I do, or until I got a new boss three weeks ago, I loved what I did.
Jules finally sees me, pours me a vodka and soda and greets me with a knowing smile. “Had you working late again did he?”
I blow out a breath and keep my voice low in case anyone overhears. “It’s getting worse.”
She frowns and leans closer. “He still flirting?”
I screw up my face as I sip my drink. “Non-stop. And it’s getting creepy. Yesterday I caught him waiting for me when I came out of the restroom.”
Jules pulls a face. “These fuckwits all think they can do what they like.”
I slide my phone towards her and down the remainder of my drink. “What am I supposed to say to him? He’s flat out propositioning me now. What if he turns up at my apartment?”
Jules reads a few of the text messages he’s sent and looks increasingly dismayed.
“You need to set clear boundaries with guys like this. You’ve been too nice. You need to get tougher.”
I shake my head. “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t understand how it works. If I can’t make him happy, I won’t get a position anywhere else. I wanted to move to Europe. And if I can’t deal with a flirty Frenchman here on home soil, how am I supposed to deal with it there?”
Jules runs her fingers through her short-cropped hair and shakes her head. “Then you need to think outside the box. Come up with a way to make yourself less desirable so he backs off.”
I shrug. “How am I supposed to do that?”
Jules sighs loudly and checks no one is close by before she speaks again. “I might have an idea. It sounds mental, but don’t dismiss it, okay?”
I frown hard as I try to figure out what crazy scheme she’s conjured. But I’m desperate enough to consider anything. “I’m listening,” I say.
She refills my vodka as she answers. “I might know someone who can help you figure this out. I know his sister. They’re starting a business together.”
My brow wrinkles as she slides the glass towards me. “What sort of business?”
“Personal protection.”
I snort a laugh. “A bodyguard? I don’t need a bodyguard. A menacing boyfriend would do.”
She shrugs. “So, if you do it right, he can be both. At least as far as Anton is concerned.”
“That’s absurd. I can’t afford to pay someone to be my boyfriend or my bodyguard.”
Her face pinches as she gestures around the bar. “So, you lose a great career just because some arsehole with diplomatic immunity thinks he can harass you into sleeping with him?”
My shoulders slump as I look at two diplomats sharing a joke at the nearest table. “I thought I could handle this. I really did.”
She frowns at me and pulls a card out from behind the bar. “So, call Logan’s sister and ask her if he can help you out.”
I stare down at the card, and the words James Close Protection Services, and can’t believe I’m even considering this.
I have no time to ponder it when Jules is called to the other end of the bar, and my phone illuminates.
My stomach drops to my toes at the message displayed.
Party tomorrow night. My wife is away so I need you there with me.
No reason why we can’t have some fun, Mon Cherie.
Anton
***
Logan
Pain shoots through my torso, reminding me of why last night was a dumb idea.
I swallow hard, and throw the covers off, rubbing at my eyes as I stumble towards the bathroom.
I flick the light switch on and wince at the state of my face.
My eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, shadowed, and the bruising looks even worse under the artificial lighting.
Clothes will hide the damage to my torso, but my appearance isn’t exactly a glowing inditement on my profession for a meeting with my bank manager.
Shaking my head at my stupidity, I take a cold shower and wash away the remnants of the little sleep I got, and stagger back into the bedroom so I can put the only suit I own on.
I’m hauling it out of the back of the closet when my cell rings. I toss the suit on the messy bed and snatch up my cell ready with a joke.
“You’ve changed your mind? You regret signing on to this and are calling to tell me this is a dumb idea I came up with,” I say.
Crystal snorts down the line. “It’s not the dumbest idea you’ve had while drinking. Don’t stress. I’ll be there. I’m calling because someone left a message on the work cell last night. I think we have our first protection detail.”
I frown as I sit on the bed. I had my doubts about advance promo, but my kid sister seems to have pulled a client from thin air.
“Did you arrange to meet with her? Is she legit?”
“She gave me her name, and I looked into her. So yes, she’s legit but I wanted to check to see how messed up you look this morning. Bad enough we have to explain your face to the bank, but a potential client will run a mile if it looks like you’ve been out brawling. What were you thinking taking a fight?”
I check my watch and lean over to unbutton the jacket. “I was thinking I’m one missed mortgage payment away from being homeless. Not to mention I needed to pay for those business cards and ads you insisted I needed.”
She sighs. “Dammit, Logan. I left a good marketing job to do this. And I did it because you needed a push in the right direction. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You have got to quit hanging around with Tim!”
Since I don’t want to get into what happened last night, I just smother a yawn before replying. “Did she say what kind of close protection she needs?”
“She wanted to talk about it face to face. I’ve arranged a meeting right before we go to the bank. From the way she sounded, it shouldn’t be too hard to get a retainer out of her. The plan is, to secure her for a few weeks minimum, so I can tell the bank manager we already have our first client.”
“Sounds like you’re already earning your keep, sis. Glad you’re on board with this.”
“You don’t need to thank me. You need to pay me. I’m not doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I think this is the perfect setup for you and it could be lucrative if you’re smart. That’s where I come in. I said I’d help you for an even split in the business, but I have two kids, and your thanks don’t put food on the table,” she reminds me.
Guilt twitches at my midsection as a reminder of why I need this to work. I wrangled my sister into this because I knew she could talk just about anyone into anything, and she’s placing a whole lot of trust I can pull it off.
I glance at the suit and blow out a breath. “See you at the bank,” I say.
I end the call, feeling even worse than I imagined as I ease off the bed. My sister is right as per usual. Accepting a job two days before meeting to apply for a loan was dumber than dumb.
Coupled with my battered appearance with my lack of references, lack of assets, and experience, I’m not exactly a solid investment.
If Crystal can’t finesse the manager into loaning me start-up costs for this, she’ll have to look for a job, and I’m screwed before I’ve even started.
***
Marlise
Despite the incredibly reassuring woman on the phone who assured me they could help me, I’m so anxious this is a mistake, my hands are shaking and I’m sick to my stomach.
I’m sitting on a park bench, the morning sun at my back as I wait to meet the man I’m hoping can pose as my boyfriend.
I haven’t replied to Anton’s message, and I know he’s going to be irritated when I arrive at work.
It’s my job to make sure my new boss knows everyone and doesn’t do anything that could reflect poorly on the embassy.
Babysitting him was one thing, him thinking he can touch me whenever his wife isn’t looking, is another.
At the sight of a woman in a suit stalking towards me, I straighten and return her smile.
She extends her hand. “Marlise? I’m Crystal, we spoke yesterday.”
I rise to my feet and accept her firm handshake. “Thanks for coming so early. I don’t have long. I need to be at work in twenty minutes.”
She nods and gestures to the bench. “No problem. I have a meeting too, so we can be quick. How can we help exactly?”
Her smile is so reassuring, and her manner so relaxed, I take a breath and decide to trust her. “Like I said last night, I work at the French embassy, so I need to be careful.”
She doesn’t react. “You have my assurances we’ll be discrete. No one needs to know you consulted with me.”
I nod my head. “I’m not even sure if you can help me or if I’m being ridiculous. But I can’t see any other option.”
Her eyebrow arches but she waits patiently for me to find the courage to carry on.
The words escape in a rush. “My boss is borderline stalking me. When he’s not flirting with me at work, he’s calling me, and finding an excuse to get me alone with him.”
She nods slowly. “And you can’t report him?”
I shake my head. “He’s friends with the Ambassador. One word from him and I’ll lose my job and be blacklisted.”
Crystal doesn’t say a word, but her brow knits for a split second before her impassive expression returns.
My hands twisting in my lap, I swallow hard and force the rest out. “I’m used to working with flirty men, but this goes beyond cultural differences. Anton thinks I’m his personal plaything, and I think he’s losing patience.”
When I can’t say anything more, Crystal finally speaks. “Let me ask you one question and then we’ll see where we are, okay?”
I nod weakly. “Sure.”
A smile flickers at her lips before it dies. “Are you afraid he’ll harm you physically?”
My muscles all tighten as I think of how many times over the past week Anton’s cornered me.
I blow out a breath and stare down at my hands. “Yes. There’s nothing to stop him.”
Crystal eye’s narrow and she nods. “Then you did the right thing calling us. We have a meeting, but we can talk strategy at lunch if that works?”
I’m so surprised she’s not dismissing me, but offering a fast solution, I have to slam my mouth shut. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for elaborate scheming,” I say.
She shrugs. “Just do whatever you’re comfortable with. Logan will jump in if you get in trouble.”
I flinch. “But we’ve never met. How will he know I’m in trouble?”
Her reply is instant and reassuring like she’s said it a hundred times before. “It’s his job to know,” she says.
***
Logan
I’m sitting in the bank, tugging at my shirt collar, and trying not to look as uncomfortable as I feel as I wait for Crystal to show.
My toes are tapping in my shoes as a little girl with freckles and a messy pony-tail sitting next to me frowns.
“What happened to your face?” she says.
Her mom’s head snaps in my direction and gives me an apologetic smile. “Jenny! That’s rude.”
I smile and look down at the girl. “I walked into someone’s fist couple times.”
The mother’s eyes pop a little as her daughter looks even more puzzled.
Thankfully, Crystal breezes through the doors and saves me from having to explain my injures to the mom.
She takes a seat beside me and lowers her voice. “Sorry I’m late. I met with the client I told you about. I wanted to get all the info before I told you about the job detail.”
“And?”
She winces slightly. “It’s going to be complicated. She’s an executive assistant who works for a diplomat. That would be fine if the threat was external, but it’s him who she wants protection from. He can’t know you’re a bodyguard.”
My eyebrows shoot upwards. “What are you talking about? How is that going to work?”
She blows out a long sigh and keeps her voice down. “You’ll have to pose as her boyfriend. And you’ll have to be subtle about it.”
I shake my head. “For how long?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “As long as it takes to convince him to back off.”
I’m still reeling when she leans closer. “I’ve done a little background research on this guy. We can discuss it after, but with diplomatic immunity in play, and our client's job on the line as well as her safely, this is going to be tough if you can’t be with her all the time.”
Any hope I had that this was a legitimate job vanishes the more she speaks. “This is a bull-shit assignment, Chrys, and you know it.”
Her face tightens. “Not to her, it isn’t. She’s scared, and she has reason to be. I called Nick at the station. They can’t touch this guy. He could assault her at work, and they still couldn’t charge him. At worst he’ll get a slap on the wrist. She’s genuinely afraid of him.”
I frown at her. “There must be another avenue she can go through? They must have work codes, sexual harassment policies.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “No, there aren’t. That’s why she came to us. And before you dismiss this, you may have to deal with similar issues in future, so better to learn the rules now, rather than mess up later on.”
I stare at the door to the office I’m about to walk through and sigh. “So she’s a guinea pig?”
I can hear her annoyance in her voice before she kicks my foot. “No, she’s a paying client who needs our help.”
I shake my head and move away in case she aims another kick. “This isn’t a proper detail. How can you guarantee I’ll keep her safe?”
Her brow knits. “I told her we’d discuss the details at lunch. And right now, she’s the only client we have. So we’re going to have to come up with a way to protect her without making it look like we are. If we can’t figure this sort of problem for her, how are we supposed to do it for other clients?”
I know she’s making sense, and I know we’ll be dead in the water before we even launch if we can’t sort the details.
But close protection means staying close to the client. Not an option if we’re trying to be discrete.
I have no time to remind my sister of that before the bank manager appears and Crystal is warning me to let her do the talking.
***
Marlise
I’m watching the clock, waiting for lunchtime, and wondering how this is all supposed to work when I hear Anton leave his office.
I hold my breath as he stands behind my chair. “My wife and I had reservations at Cafe Des Artistes, would you like to take her place, Mon Cherie?”
I fight to keep my voice level as I come up with a suitable lie as I keep typing. “I’m sorry I can’t today. I already have a lunch date.”
Anton leans closer and places his hands on the back of my chair. He’s so close I can feel his fingers brush against the silk blouse I’m wearing. “Meeting a friend, no? Bring ‘er along.”
I flinch and hope I can phrase this properly. “I’m not meeting a friend. I’m meeting my boyfriend,” I whisper.
He’s silent for a moment before he mutters something under his breath so quickly I don’t have time to translate.
He tuts behind me as I try to carry on typing. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me, ma douce petite assistante.”
I shake my head. “Not at all. You asked if I was married not if I had a boyfriend.”
“Ah, this is mere sémantique. But I’m not surprised, Mon Cherie. A beautiful girl like you must have many, many boyfriends.
I’m not sure if he’s insulting me, or insinuating I’m a slut, so I answer a little too briskly. “Just one. That’s all I need,” I say.
He chuckles. “He must be some man, this petit ami of yours. You must bring him to the party tonight.”
My breath hitches in my chest as I scramble to think. “Um, I’m not sure if he’s free.”
I can see Anton’s frown in my screen as I struggle to type and carry on a conversation I hope will end with him accepting I’m not coming to the party with or without my boyfriend.
But he just shifts so I’m forced to look at his face. In any other circumstances, I’d probably have thought he was handsome for an older man.
A silver fox even, but all my hope for a good working relationship vanished when he touched my ass the day he arrived.
My telling him that it was unacceptable did nothing to dissuade him. Neither did mentioning his wife repeatedly anytime he said anything suggestive, which is happening even more regularly now she’s returned to Lyon to visit her mother.
He’s frowning at me, making his overly tanned forehead crease in disapproval. “Non, non, he must come tonight. I insist on meeting this, this...”
He stares at me expectantly and it takes me a nanosecond to realize I haven’t given him a name.
“Logan. Logan James,” I finish.
He nods slowly. “This Logan James. He will bring you to the party, and he will tell me all about how he swept you off your feet. I’m sure it will be a très romantique story.”
I wrinkle my nose and hope I’m not digging myself a hole Logan will have to fill. I still have no idea of the extent he’s willing to play along.
“I’d really rather just spend a quiet evening at home—”
But Anton doesn’t even give me a chance to decline, he just waves his hand in the air dismissing me completely. “I will see you both at eight.”
Without another word and a salacious wink that makes my stomach roil, he finally saunters out of the office leaving me to contemplate the mess I’m now in.
I wait until he closes the door before I slouch in my chair. “Shit,” I say to the empty room.
***
Logan
I’m waiting at the café with Crystal nursing a coffee and still blown away my sister talked the bank manager into the loan, and an overdraft as well as scoring a lower interest rate.
She’s on her phone, talking to someone about an office space so I wait until she’s done before I give her a head bob. “Dad would have been proud of you back there.”
A wry smile flashes across her face. “Ah shucks. But yeah, I wish he could have seen us working together.”
I smile at her even though it hurts my split lip. “You found somewhere to set up shop?”
She nods. “I think so. But I’m not sure about the area. I might call Dave, it’s close to his office.”
I shake my head, slightly distracted as I check the time. “The last person I want you contacting is Dave.”
Crystal frowns hard. “One of these days you need to get over whatever happened between you two. He’s the owner of a very successful private detective agency. And until two years ago, he used to be your friend.”
“Used to be. He’s not now, and I don’t want you contacting him or to be near him. Find somewhere else.”
Her eyebrows rise in annoyance. “You’re being ridiculous. It’s a similar business, if you’d quit being so stubborn you’d see we could benefit—"
I shake my head and cut her off. “I don’t want you to have anything to do with him, got it?”
Crystal’s eyes narrow and I’m if it weren’t for the fact the door is opening, and a woman is walking towards her, I’m pretty sure she’d have plenty more to say.
I straighten my shoulders and clear my throat. “Looks like she’s here.”
While we both rise to our feet, and Crystal plasters on a smile, my eyes drift to the honey-haired blonde with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.
With a wide-eyed innocence coupled with a body that wet dreams are made of, she’s a walking target.
And I just got the job of protecting her from men like me.
Her eyes lock on to me, and a cautious smile appears as she gestures to the injuries to my face and takes a seat. “Are you okay?”
I can’t seem to pull my gaze away from her full lips even as Crystal nudges my foot with hers and clears her throat.
“Logan is a professional boxer. But don’t worry, we’ll cover that with makeup and he’ll not be participating in any matches anytime soon,” she says.
Marlise looks a little unsettled, given I probably look like a thug in a suit, that’s not surprising.
Ever the professional, my sister steers the conversation back to the job at hand. “We were just discussing the delicacy of this. It’s important we go over your expectations and set some limits so you’re completely comfortable.”
Marlise nods. “I told Anton I had a boyfriend.”
Crystal’s eyebrows rise slightly, but she just slides a look sidelong.
“Okay. Then we don’t have much time to prepare. Where does he want to meet?”
Marlise swallows and looks nervous as the waitress sidles up to take her order.
She must be a regular because the waitress brightens noticeably as she recognizes her.
Marlise is polite, but it’s obvious she was hoping for more anonymity than this.
As she orders a coffee to take away, my reluctance only grows when Crystal pulls out a contract and waits for the waitress to walk away before she slides it across the table.
“This is a standard contract. Let us know if you’d like an attorney to look it over before you sign, otherwise Logan can collect it this evening.”
She barely glances at the contract before she picks up a pen. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she says.
I exchange a look with Crystal as Marlise scrawls her signature.
This guy must be a piece of work if she’s happy to pay twenty-five for every hour I’m on the clock.
“Logan will give you an invoice each week just so there aren’t any surprises,” Crystal says.
Marlise nods briskly and her next words make her speed at signing understandable.
“Anton wants me to attend a party at the embassy tonight. Is that even possible at such short notice?”
She looks from Crystal to me, and I can’t seem to find the right thing to say.
When I’m at a loss, Crystal seamlessly replies. “We’ll make it work. Logan’s a fast study, you don’t need to worry about that aspect, but we really need to go over what you expect when you’re with Logan.”
Marlise’s cheeks redden, and she looks so flustered she directs her reply to my sister rather than me. “I really don’t know. The French are by nature openly affectionate. Anton will expect some level of, um, well, intimacy.”
Her voice squeaks a little at the last word, letting me know she’s feeling just as uncomfortable about this as I am.
Crystal jumps in again, entirely professional and in stark contrast to the storm currently brewing inside me. “This is, obviously an unusual situation, but we’re professionals, and well equipped to handle whatever situations might present themselves.”
I almost choke on my coffee at that. Professional? The thoughts I’m having are anything but professional.
Marlise is probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, she’s educated, classy, and there is no fucking way she’d look twice at a guy like me let alone have a relationship with one.
Now she’s paying me to spend time with her.
While Crystal is saying all the right things, my brain is spinning with how I’m going to pull this off.
The only way I can see this actually working is having to construct another personality and a better life.
Even for a fake relationship, she’s way out of my league. If Anton even suspects this isn’t real, or if he gets jealous, it’ll blow up in my face.
I’m so caught in what can go wrong with this, I miss the meeting is wrapping up.
Crystal pulls out a card. “That’s Logan’s cell. If you need him before this evening. Just text and he can be there as soon as possible.”
Marlise looks so relieved I don’t bother to share my misgivings. I just try to look cool, calm, and collected as Crystal assures Marlise we’ll do everything we can to deal with this discreetly.
Marlise sends me an awkward smile. “Do you have a tux? The party is black tie.”
I force my voice to come out even. “No problem. I’ll be at your apartment by six.”
She smiles sweetly, making something snap inside my chest as she gets to her feet. “Thank you. Both of you,” she says.
Crystal shakes her hand again. “Happy to help.”
My jaw tightens as I watch Marlise’s hips swing as she walks out the door. “I don’t know if we really can help her,” I mutter.
Crystal takes a seat and blows out a breath. “Maybe. But until we know for sure we can’t, you’ll need to fake the shit out of this boyfriend thing or we’ll both be looking for jobs,” she says.
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Lexi Hart is the pen name of a crazy Kiwi romance junkie who prefers to live in the heads of her characters than her own.
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