Broken: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 3) Page 12

  Just as I’m weighing how much trouble I’ll get in if I break her wrist, Jonah grabs her hand and pries it off me. “Leave her alone, Makayla.”

  “No!” Makayla hisses back at him. “She can wait out here or in the kitchen with the rest of the staff. She’s not coming in the dining room with us! This is a dinner for two, not three.”

  “Don’t worry, Ms. Diva,” I say. “I wasn’t planning to sit with you in the restaurant. But I will be close by.”

  “Why? We don’t need you – ”

  “Because it’s protocol. How can I do my job if I’m not near him?”

  “What could he possibly need from you in there?”

  “You never know – he might need help buttering his bread. I take my job very seriously.”

  Makayla scowls at Jonah. “This girl is crazy. Why you hired her, or even put up with her, I’ll never know.”

  Our server is bobbing nervously on his feet, watching Makayla and me like we’re wild animals that could attack at any moment. He looks at Jonah, a desperate plea on his face. “Sir? If you could follow me?”

  Jonah pulls Makayla away from me and pushes her gently toward the dining room. “Can we please just get this over with?”

  He glances back at me as they walk through the doorway, looking completely exasperated. I watch through the open door as they are seated at a cozy table for two along the edge of the dining room, intended, I’m sure, to give them a little bit of privacy.

  “So, that’s Makayla Hendricks.”

  I smile when I hear the cultured voice of Peter Capelli, the owner of Renaldo’s.

  Peter Capelli is a good looking man, with a trim, athletic build, short, prematurely silver hair, and piercing blue eyes. He looks very debonair in his black suit, white shirt, and a cobalt blue tie that really makes his eyes pop.

  “Yep, that’s the princess of pop. She’s a royal pain in the ass.”

  Peter smiles. “I don’t doubt your ability to handle her, Lia.”

  “I’d like to handle her, all right.”

  “And the gentleman? Jonah Locke. He’s your client?”

  “Yes.”

  Peter lays a hand on my shoulder. “Rest easy, Lia. My staff know better than to fawn over celebrities, and the clientele are too sophisticated to act like the rabid fans that are collecting outside the building.”

  I snicker. “Don’t worry, Makayla will find a way to make a scene. She lives for publicity.”

  After Peter leaves me to my spying, I decide to stay out of sight, for Jonah’s sake. I don’t want to give Makayla an excuse to make a scene. I notice Jonah scanning the dining room a few times, and I can’t help wondering if he’s looking for me.

  A side access door opens and out steps Gabrielle Hunter, dressed in her white sous-chef uniform. Despite the plain simplicity of her chef’s uniform, with her blazing red hair – which is currently confined to a long, thick braid – she makes one hell of an impression. The bridge of her nose and the top edges of her cheeks are sprinkled with cinnamon-colored freckles, and her eyes are a vibrant green. She’s at least a head taller than me.

  “Hey, Lia,” she says breathlessly, giving me a quick hug. “Peter told me you were out here. Do you want to come back to the kitchen with me? I’ll feed you.”

  Because of Beth, Gabrielle and I have become friends of a sort. I don’t have many friends, so I appreciate the ones I do have. I glance through the curtained doorway at Jonah’s table. Their server is taking their orders, and everything looks relatively quiet. I can monitor things from the kitchen just as easily as I can from here. Besides, I am hungry. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

  I follow Gabrielle down the corridor that leads to the kitchen, where I am assailed with delicious aromas. Having friends in the restaurant business does have its perks, especially when it’s a five-star restaurant.

  Gabrielle sets a stool in front of a window that acts as a one-way mirror overlooking the dining room. From here, I can watch Jonah and Makayla comfortably without anyone being able to see me.

  Gabrielle pats my shoulder. “How about a platter of appetizers while you decide what you want to eat? I’ll be right back.”

  A few moments later, Gabrielle returns wheeling a cart that holds a crazy assortment of appetizers. There’s enough food here for three people.

  “What would you like to drink?” she says. “Wine? A soft drink?”

  “Coke is fine. No alcohol for me tonight.”

  “Oh, right! Sorry.” Gabrielle returns with my soft drink, which she sets on my cart. “Would you like to order an entree?”

  “This is way more than I can eat, Gabrielle,” I tell her. “I won’t need anything else. Thank you.”

  She glances out the window at Jonah and Makayla and sighs heavily. “My goodness, he’s gorgeous. No man has a right to look that good. I could eat him up, you know?”

  I chuckle. “You’d have to go through Makayla first.” Not to mention me.

  “I thought they broke up.”

  “They did. But she keeps forgetting that. Anyway, it’s his manager who organized this little spectacle tonight. They’re putting on a surprise performance Friday night at Rowdy’s. It’s mainly a PR stunt.”

  Gabrielle’s eyes light up. “A concert here? Really?”

  “You want to come? It’s by invitation only. You’re welcome to come. Beth will be there, and I think she’s bringing a bunch of her employees.”

  “Of course I want to come! Thank you!” Gabrielle gives me a one-armed hug. “Enjoy your food! If you need anything else, just let me know. I’ll be at my station.”

  I enjoy my sampler feast while watching Jonah and Makayla. They’re seated directly across from each other, and Makayla keeps leaning toward Jonah, putting her ample cleavage on display. I can practically see her nipples, even from where I’m sitting. More than once, she reaches out to take his hand, her fingers bedazzled with more diamond rings than a Tiffany display case. And each time, he manages to pull his hand away discretely. Jonah’s far too nice for his own good. If I were him, I’d slap her.

  Makayla pours herself a glass of red wine and downs it quickly, and then pours another. I’m thinking she’d better pace herself until she’s eaten something.

  When their entrees are delivered, Jonah focuses on eating, while Makayla talks nonstop, gesturing animatedly and laughing. I think the wine’s hit her bloodstream before the food. She pours another glass and takes a sip.

  Jonah looks miserable, and I can’t help feeling sorry for him. Part of me wants to go in there and rescue him. But I can’t. He’s a big boy. He has to deal with this – with her – himself.

  Finally, their meal comes to an end, and while Jonah pays the check, I wait for them in the front lobby. As they come out, I can tell immediately that Makayla’s had a little too much to drink. She looks flushed and a little unsteady on those ridiculous spiked heels.

  As we head down in the elevator, Makayla leans into Jonah and whispers loudly to him. “Do you wanna go dancing?”

  “No,” he says.

  She runs her index finger in little circles on his shirt. “We could go to a club, have a few drinks. Just the two of us.”

  “No,” Jonah says, removing her finger. “We’re taking you back to your hotel.”

  Makayla pouts. “Baby...”

  “Please don’t call me that. And stand up.”

  “I’m not sure she can,” I say, coming around the other side of her. “Did you notice how much wine she drank and how little she ate? I’d say she’s officially drunk.”

  Makayla laughs, the sound overly loud in the confines of the elevator. “I am not drunk! Tell her I’m not, Jonah.”

  “Yes, Makayla, you are.” Jonah looks past Makayla at me. “Did you get something to eat?”

  I nod. “I ate in the kitchen.”

  The doors whoosh open and Jonah helps Makayla out of the elevator. She’s getting less and less steady on her feet.

  I head for the revolving doors. “I’l
l get the Escalade. Can you get her out the door?”

  Jonah nods. “I’ll try. Let’s get her back to the hotel before she falls down.”

  Chapter 19

  Jonah leads Makayla out of the building with both arms around her, and I think he may be the only thing holding her up. She has her arms around him, too, and her face is pressed against his shirt. I can’t tell if she’s really drunk or if she’s playing him for attention. I wouldn’t put it past her to fake it.

  I open the rear passenger door, and Jonah maneuvers her into the back seat.

  “Sit with me,” she begs, holding onto his shirt with a death grip. She pulls him into the vehicle with her, and he acquiesces, climbing in beside her. He gives me a pained look as I close his door and then walk around the front of the vehicle to the driver’s door.

  For the entire drive back to her hotel, I’m forced to listen to her pleading with him. I’m pretty sure she really is toasted, because why else would she humiliate herself like this?

  “Jonah, please,” she whines, wrapping her arms around his waist and snuggling into him. Her slurred, sultry voice is muffled against his shirt. “You can’t break up with me. We belong together. Everyone can see that. Why can’t you?”

  Jonah meets my gaze in the rear view mirror. “Makayla, please,” he says, trying to remove her arms from around his waist. “Sit up.”

  “No!” She tightens her hold on him. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.” She tilts her face up and kisses the side of his throat. Her voice drops and she attempts to whisper to him. “Come back to my hotel room with me. It’s been so long, and I need you.” She sits up, and her lush, painted lips nibble their way toward his mouth. “Please, I’ll do anything you want.”

  This is getting downright awkward and embarrassing for everyone.

  Jonah dodges her kiss and sets her back in her seat, buckling her in to keep her there.

  “Please hurry,” he says to me.

  I would be tempted to laugh if the situation weren’t so pathetic.

  * * *

  Jonah closes Makayla’s hotel door and leans back against it, looking absolutely wiped. All the drama has taken quite a toll on him. I had to help him get her up to her room, where we left her in the capable hands of her personal assistant, Stacy, who promised not to let her leave the room before morning.

  I lean against the wall just a foot away from him. “Are you okay?” It must have been hard on him to see her that way.

  He’s staring at the blank wall across the hallway. “This is why I left LA. To get away from this, all the melodrama.”

  “Makayla loves you, in her own twisted way. I feel sorry for her.”

  Jonah reaches out to touch my arm where Makayla grabbed me earlier. “Did she hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  His fingers slip down my arm to grasp my fingers. “I’m wiped. Let’s go home.”

  I feel an odd tightening in my chest at his words. It’s just a rental house, a temporary place for him to stay while he’s in Chicago. And yet, the way he said home makes it sound like a whole lot more.

  * * *

  It’s late, and the house is quiet inside when we come in through the back door. The lights are off, but someone left a nightlight on in the kitchen. Probably Esperanza.

  As we reach the main hallway, Jonah pauses a moment to look at me, his gaze searching mine. His expression is impassive. “Good night, Lia.”

  As I watch him walk away, I feel oddly bereft. “Good night.”

  I’m doing the right thing by keeping him at arm’s length. I am! There’s no point in us getting any closer. I don’t do clients. So why does my chest feel tight, like it’s being squeezed in a giant vise? I suck in a deep breath, steeling myself against going after him. For a self-indulgent moment, I wonder would he’d do if I followed him upstairs to his suite. That’s his private domain up there, where he hides from the world. For the millionth time, I think Jonah’s not cut out for the music industry. At least not the crazy world of the rock star. He’s more the suffering artist type. The thought makes me smile. I think I’d prefer a suffering artist over an egomaniac any day.

  With a sigh, I head to my room to check e-mail. Shane has sent me some logistical information about Friday’s concert, and it looks like everything’s under control. All we have to do is show up that afternoon for a rehearsal.

  Despite the late hour, I’m too antsy to sleep, so I change into my workout clothes and head downstairs to burn off some energy. Halfway down the stairs, I see flashing lights coming from underneath the media room door. I pause outside the door for a moment. The room is well sound-proofed, but I can feel the vibrations from the Surround Sound system beating against the door. I open the door and step in, and find the trio kicking back on the sofa watching a movie on the big screen. Empty beer bottles and Chinese food cartons are everywhere – it looks like a disaster zone.

  I shake my head. “Shouldn’t you boys be in bed by now?”

  All three heads turn my way, and Dylan flashes me a big grin.

  “Lia!” he says, jumping to his feet. “Hey! I’m glad you’re home. Come hang with us.”

  Dylan scoots over to make room for me between himself and Travis, and pats the empty sofa seat. “Come watch Iron Man versus Captain America.”

  I shake my head, smiling. “Thanks, but I’ve got a date with a treadmill. Maybe next time.”

  “Oh, come on, Lia!” Dylan grabs the remote to pause the movie, then he dashes over to me, more than a little unsteady on his feet. I can smell beer on his breath. He grabs my hand and pulls me into the room. “Hang out with us. Just for a while.”

  I have to admit, Dylan’s really easy on the eyes. His eagerness is infectious, and watching the three of them together reminds me so much of my childhood, when my brothers all lived at home. The nostalgia I’m feeling must show on my face, because Dylan gives me a triumphant grin and pulls me over to the sofa.

  “Sit!” he says, pushing me down on the sofa. He drops down beside me and lays his arm across the back of the sofa, just inches from my shoulders and neck.

  Travis pauses to look at me, a superior smirk on his handsome face. His brown eyes are lit up with a mixture of excitement and perhaps a little too much alcohol. He grabs his beer and takes a long pull. “Want one?”

  “Yeah. I’m off the clock, and that sounds great.” I eye the open cooler on the floor at Travis’ feet and have to chuckle. Several bottles of Zombie Dust stick up out of the ice. “I’d love one of those.”

  Travis grabs a bottle and twists off the top, then hands the bottle to me.

  I take a swig of the cold, crisp beer. “Where did this come from? The Zombie Dust?”

  Travis shrugs. “We found several cases of it upstairs in the pantry. Why? Don’t you like it? It’s good stuff.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, it’s great. I was just curious.” It just happens to be my favorite beer, only I didn’t bring it here. And Jonah’s the only one in this house who knows I like it. Did he arrange to have it brought here?

  We’ve been watching the movie for about an hour now – and I admit that my one beer turned into two – when the door opens, letting the hall light flood the media room, blinding us.

  “Jesus, Jonah, shut the door!” Zeke yells, shielding his eyes.

  Jonah steps inside the room and kicks the door shut with an ominous thud. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

  Travis raises his bottle to Jonah – it’s the third one I’ve seen him drink since I joined them. “Isn’t it obvious, dude? We’re having a foursome with Lia.”

  Jonah’s wearing gray sweat pants and nothing else. He looks haggard and on edge. “Leave her alone, guys. She’s not here for your entertainment.”

  “Come on, Jonah!” Dylan says. “She’s off the clock. She can hang with us if she wants.”

  Jonah stands with his legs braced apart and his hands clamped on his hips. His expression is tight, his jaw clenched, and he looks like he’s ready to rumble, alt
hough I can’t imagine with whom or why. We’re not doing anything wrong. We’re just watching a movie, for God’s sake.

  Jonah glares at me. “Can I talk to you, please?”

  I step over Travis’s and Zeke’s legs, which are propped up on the coffee table, to get to Jonah. “What’s your problem?” I hiss.

  Jonah looks down at me, his eyes narrowing. Then he grabs my arm and drags me out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

  I roll my eyes at him. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem?”

  “This is my problem!” He pushes me up against the wall, his hands framing my face, and leans into me, his mouth covering mine.

  “What the fuck!” I gasp against his lips, half-heartedly pushing at his chest. I don’t know whether to laugh at his audacity, slam my knee into his balls, or kiss him back.

  “Just shut up and kiss me,” he growls, as if reading my mind.

  Chapter 20

  Jonah kisses me like he’s starving for it, his lips hot and hard on mine, and my belly does a somersault, leaving me feeling lightheaded and off balance.

  “Jonah – ”

  My words are cut off when his tongue slips into my mouth, finding mine with unerring precision and stroking it. Suddenly I’m burning up, as heat blooms between my legs. I know I should drop him on his ass, and I’m so tempted to do it. I’m not used to being manhandled like this. But before I can strike, he moves closer, his body coming up flush with mine, pinning me to the wall. His thick erection presses into my belly, and I swallow hard.

  Jonah groans, the sound low and harsh in the otherwise deserted hallway. One of his hands slips down to cover my breast, and when his thumb brushes across the tip, my nipple contracts so quickly it hurts. I gasp in surprise, and his lips gentle on mine, the kiss becoming one of exploration as his tongue strokes mine.

  “Lia.”

  The longing in his voice sets up an ache deep inside me, where my insides are going soft and I’m tumbling in a freefall. I can feel my blood converging on my sex, making things down there hot and wet. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to ache like this for anyone.