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

  Shane’s office door is closed, so I rap once with my knuckles, then open the door and walk in. I know he’s expecting me, so there’s no point beating around the bush. Immediately I scan the room, half expecting Jonah to be in here with Shane, but he’s not. Shane’s standing alone at one of the huge picture windows overlooking N. Michigan Avenue and the cross street. It must be nice having a fancy corner office.

  I just want to get this over with. “You wanted to see me, boss?”

  He turns to face me, and yeah, he’s still pissed. “What the fuck did you think you were doing back there? You could have seriously hurt Phillip.”

  I shrug. “He asked for it.”

  “How so?”

  “He called me sugar. And then he winked at me.”

  He shakes his head. “And you consider that justification for rendering a man unconscious?”

  “He pissed me off, Shane. Besides, he reminded me of someone.”

  Shane frowns. Of course he knows who I’m talking about, but he doesn’t say anything.

  I guess I do feel kinda bad for clocking the guy. “Is he okay?”

  “He’ll be all right. Liam called up to say he’s conscious again. Dr. Monroe will take a look at him. But he likely has a concussion.”

  I frown. “Sorry.” Not sorry.

  Shane sighs. “Lia, you have to learn to control your temper.”

  “Ha. That guy should learn to watch his mouth.”

  Shane shakes his head again, then walks over to the credenza and pours himself a cup of coffee. “Want some?”

  “No thanks, I’m good.”

  “Take a seat, Lia.”

  Uh oh. This isn’t good. This is more than a simple tongue lashing. I drop down into one of the two black leather chairs that face Shane’s desk and wait for him to take his seat behind the desk. “Am I still in trouble?”

  He gives me a small smile, looking more like my big brother now than my boss. “No. Just don’t do it again. Besides knocking the poor guy out, you also put a big dent in his ego. It’s going to take him a while to get over getting thrashed by a girl. Try to play nice with others, okay? Especially the new hires.”

  I ignore the little bit of guilt gnawing at me. “Whatever. Can we get to the point, please? I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “All right.” Shane taps the fingertips of his right hand on the desk. “I’m reassigning you.”

  “What!” I sit up straight in my chair, my hands gripping the arm rests. “Why? Did Beth ask you to reassign me?”

  “No! Of course not. This is my idea. I have another assignment for you. It’s a high-priority client, and you’re especially well suited for the job. I need you on this.”

  I relax a bit, relieved that Beth didn’t ask for me to be reassigned. She’s the only friend I’ve got. It would kill me if she didn’t want me around. “Who’s the client?”

  There’s a knock on the door, and Shane says, “Come in.”

  The door opens behind me and I hear the thud of boots hitting the polished wood floors. I know who it is without even looking.

  Shane smiles over the top of my head. “Have a seat, Jonah.”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath before counting to ten. This day keeps getting better and better.

  “Hello, Lia,” Jonah says as he drops into the chair beside mine.

  When I finally open my eyes and look at him, I feel an unfamiliar tightening in my chest. Asshole.

  I turn to Shane. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You know I don’t like babysitting celebrities.” I hate the screaming crowds, not to mention the fucking paparazzi. Publicity and I don’t do well together. I’ve had enough publicity to last a lifetime.

  Jonah snorts in amusement, and I shoot him a glare. Shut up.

  “Jonah needs a bodyguard while he’s in town for a couple of months, and you’re perfect for the job. We need someone who can get in close to him, someone who can fit in with the music scene, hang out with the band. While he’s here, you’ll shadow him pretty much twenty-four-seven.”

  “The hell I will!” I jump to my feet. “There’s no way I’m spending twenty-four-seven with this guy. No way.”

  “Lia, sit down,” Shane says without heat.

  Jonah’s calmly gazing up at me now that I’m standing. Up this close, I see that his eyes aren’t as dark as I first thought they were. They’re flecked with bits of gold and amber. His long lashes are the color of fine dark chocolate. I have to admit, he really is gorgeous, but I don’t have the patience for celebrities with big egos. Or any man, for that matter.

  “Sit, Lia,” Shane repeats, pointing at my chair.

  I shake my head as my butt hits the seat cushion. “Get someone else to do it. How about Miguel? He’d be good.”

  “Miguel’s busy on another assignment.”

  “What about Carolyn Palmer? She’d be great.”

  “She’s already on another job. I want you, Lia. End of discussion.”

  I glare across the desk at my brother. There’s no reasoning with him when he’s got his mind made up.

  “Jonah’s going to be in Chicago for just a couple months to finish up a new album. He attracts a lot of attention wherever he goes, unfortunately, and he needs someone to keep the more aggressive fans at bay. I need someone on the inside keeping an eye on things around the clock. And that’s you.”

  Shane looks at Jonah. “Lia’s a chameleon. She’ll blend right in with your crew.”

  Jonah glances at me. “Are you okay with this, Lia?”

  I frown, surprised he even cares enough to ask me. I look at Shane. “Does Beth know about the reassignment?”

  Shane nods. “She does.”

  “And she’s okay with this?”

  “Yes, we talked it over. It’s just temporary, Lia, just while Jonah’s in town.”

  “But What about Beth? Who’ll be her driver if I’m not?”

  “Sam will take over for you. He’s already watching her during the day.”

  That makes sense. They already spend a lot of time together, and they’ve really hit it off. And Sam’s a good guy – he’ll take good care of Beth.

  “All right,” I sigh, realizing I really don’t have much choice.

  Shane gives me a curt nod. “Be at the penthouse this evening at seven. Jonah and his manager are coming over tonight for dinner, and I want you to join us. Bring your gear, Lia, because you’ll go back to the rental house with Jonah tonight.”

  “Fine.” I take one last look at Jonah, who’s being awfully quiet. I kind of expected him to start making demands or bitching about something. But instead, he’s silent.

  I look at him warily out of the corner of my eye. “I guess I’ll see you at dinner then.”

  He chuckles. “I’m looking forward to it, Lia.”

  * * *

  On my way out of the building, I make a quick stop at the martial arts studio and find Liam setting up for his next class. “Where’s Phil?”

  “In the locker room.” He grins at me. “Why? Are you going to knock him out again?”

  I smirk. “Very funny, Liam.”

  I head into the co-ed locker room and find Phillip dressing. He’s fresh out of the shower and wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. He’s in the process of drying his chest with another towel when I approach him.

  His eyes widen in mock fear when he sees me. “Ooh, should I be scared?”

  “Nah.” I stop a couple of feet away, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “Actually, I came to apologize. I’m sorry for knocking you out. It was uncalled for.”

  He smiles. “Apology accepted.”

  “You pissed me off,” I explain. “Don’t ever call me sugar. Or wink at me.”

  He nods. “Duly noted. Do you by chance have anger management issues?”

  “You could say that. Anyway, I am sorry.”

  “No problem.” Phillip throws the towel around his neck. “Hey, it’s getting late. Are you hungry? Can I buy you dinner? Or a drink? We got of
f on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make it up to you.”

  “No thanks. I’ve got plans tonight.” Never, pal. “Anyway, I just came by to apologize.”

  “Sure. Maybe next time.”

  I shake my head, wanting to nip this in the bud. “Nope. Not going to happen. No offense, ‘cause you seem like a nice guy. I’m just not interested. I make it a rule never to fraternize with co-workers.”

  “Well, rules are made to be broken, right?”

  I shake my head. “Not in this lifetime.”

  Chapter 5

  With a clear conscience, I drive to Clancy’s Bookshop and park in the VIP spot right in front of the store. I’m a few minutes early, so I go inside to look for Beth. I find her organizing books on a cart.

  I walk up behind her. “Hey, Princess. Did Shane tell you he wants to reassign me to babysit Jonah Locke?”

  She turns to me and smiles. “He did. We discussed it last night. Are you okay with it?”

  “Are you okay with it?”

  She shrugs. “He’s Jonah Locke, Lia. It would be criminal for me to stand in your way. Besides, it’s only temporary. Jonah’s only going be in town for a few months, and then he’s going back to LA. Sam will fill in for you in the meanwhile.”

  I catch a glimpse of Sam, who’s standing a few feet away. He’s got one eye on Beth and the other glued to a fitness magazine. I nod. “Hey, red.”

  He nods back. “Shorty.”

  Sam’s got a classic undercut – the sides of his red hair are trimmed close and the hair on top is long and pulled back into a bun. It looks good on him. In addition to the black plugs in his ear lobes, he’s got some industrial hardware piercings through the cartilage at the top of his right ear. He’s a good guy. He and Beth certainly get along well, which is a good thing if he’s going to take over as her primary bodyguard for a while.

  “Looks like you’re getting promoted,” I say.

  He nods. “That’s right. Try not to take it personally.”

  I smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself, red. You’re the B team.”

  * * *

  I walk upstairs with Beth as she heads up to her office to collect her sweater and purse. We run into Erin O’Connor, her assistant manager, on our way out of Beth’s office.

  “Lia!” Erin says, flashing killer dimples that make her look like she’s twelve.

  “Hey, Erin.”

  Erin’s too cute for her own good, with her freckled, round face and chin-length brown hair. She’s one of the original management staff here at the bookstore. She’s become a good friend to Beth, and that makes her okay in my book.

  “I heard you’re going to be Jonah Locke’s bodyguard for a while. Is that true?”

  I guess news travels fast. “Yeah. Looks like it.”

  Erin’s green eyes are as wide as saucers. “Oh, my God, you’re so lucky. He’s gorgeous!”

  “Is he? I hadn’t noticed.”

  Erin gently smacks my arm. “You are such a liar! If he performs while he’s here in town, please promise you’ll get me a ticket.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  * * *

  We drive back to the Lake Shore Drive apartment building where we live – a building Shane owns. I escort Beth in the private elevator that exclusively services the penthouse. On the ride up, she’s practically vibrating with excitement over the evening’s plans.

  I have mixed feelings about my new assignment. On the one hand, shadowing Jonah will be interesting to say the least. But at the same time, I’ll miss Beth. Right now I see her at least twice a day, and we often have lunch together if our schedules permit. With my new assignment, I don’t know when I’ll see her. I have no idea what kind of insane schedule Jonah keeps. And I’ll be leaving my apartment building to move into his rented house in Lincoln Park for the duration. It’s not that far away, but our paths won’t likely cross very often while he’s in town.

  Beth squeezes my hand. “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Lia, come on.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Princess.” There, I said it. I’ve never had someone to miss before.

  As the elevator comes to a gliding stop, she throws her slender arms around me and squeezes. “Don’t be silly. I’ll always be right here if you need me. Think of this as an adventure! You’re going to be living with Jonah Locke!”

  * * *

  After dropping Beth off, I make my way to my own apartment two floors down. Compared to the penthouse, my apartment is tiny – two bedrooms, a living room and kitchen, and one bathroom. Its best feature is that it offers a perfect front-row view of Lake Michigan. It’s not much, but it’s all mine.

  Stripping, I head for the bathroom to take my second shower of the day, wanting to wash off all the sweat and grime from the workout in the martial arts studio. The hot water feels good on my back as the pulsating massage unit does its job.

  After showering, I towel-dry my hair, run a comb through it, and head to my bedroom to get dressed for dinner. I’m sure as hell not getting dressed up for Jonah Locke. I put on my grungiest pair of ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with white printing on it that says, Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to come. I pull on my black shitkickers just in case the guy gets out of line tonight and I’m obliged to kick his ass.

  It could happen. You never know.

  After packing a couple duffle bags of clothes, personal items, and a small arsenal, I head back up to the penthouse. I dump my bags on the floor in the foyer, just outside the elevator, then head into the apartment.

  I realize I’m sorely underdressed for the occasion when I walk into the great room and see Beth dressed in a little form-fitted black dress with matching flat-heeled shoes.

  She gives my outfit a quick once-over and smiles at me without a single word of reproach, bless her heart. “Aren’t you excited, Lia?” she says, coming forward to give me a quick hug. “Jonah and Mr. Peterson came home with Shane after work. They’re in Shane’s office right now.”

  I shrug. “He’s just a guy, Beth, like any other. He puts his pants on one leg at a time.”

  “I know, but have you noticed how nicely he fills them out?” Her blue-green eyes are fairly glittering with excitement.

  I raise my eyebrows, shaking my head in mock condemnation. “Beth, I’m shocked. I thought you had eyes only for Shane.”

  She grins. “I love Shane, but I’m not blind.”

  The sound of footsteps draws our attention to the archway leading into the spacious living area. Shane leads the way, followed by Dwight Peterson, Jonah’s manager. I met Peterson once already, in Shane’s office last week.

  Shane looks relaxed in gray slacks and a white shirt sans tie, and Peterson’s got on a too-big, navy-and-white pinstriped suit. Yep, I’m definitely underdressed. Too bad I don’t give a shit.

  Shane’s gaze lands on my outfit and he frowns. Yeah, I know, I’m underdressed. So what? I don’t care about making a good impression, and Shane knows it. He gives a rueful shake of his head, suppressing a grin. “Dwight, you remember my sister Lia. You met her once before in my office.”

  Dwight Peterson eyes me from head to toe, frowning as he takes in my garb. He looks at me like I’m something the cat dragged in off the street. I can tell we’re going to hit it off swell.

  He nods at me like he’s a head of state graciously acknowledging a peon. “Yes, I do recall meeting Ms. McIntyre.”

  I’d like to punch him.

  Jonah steps out from behind them. “Hey, Lia.”

  I give Jonah a curt nod. “Hey.”

  Jonah’s wearing what he had on earlier at the office – jeans and a T-shirt. Apparently, he’s underdressed too. I’m just now noticing how badly scuffed his boots are. The guy’s got to be rolling in money. Surely he can afford new boots.

  For the first time, I notice a frayed length of braided twine tied around his wrist, looking like it’s been there for years. Mentally, I shake my head. I don�
�t get this guy. His band is giving all the top acts a run for their money on the charts right now, and yet Jonah looks like he could easily pass for a hobo.

  I feel a sudden urge to reach up and release his hair from its ponytail. I want to thread my fingers through those waves and see how long his hair is. But I immediately squelch the impulse. Jonah’s a client. Even if he was on board with the idea, I can’t just bang him and walk away. For starters, it would get messy. And there would surely be repercussions, especially if Shane found out. Still... damn. This guy oozes sex appeal. No wonder the fans girls are throwing themselves at him.

  He looks me over, his eyes dwelling on the slogan on my T-shirt, and he grins. “So glad you could make it.”

  We’re interrupted by a young woman dressed in a catering uniform as she presents a tray of chilled champagne flutes.

  Shane takes a glass and tastes it. “Excellent, thank you.” Then he picks up a second glass and hands it to Beth.

  As Peterson takes a glass of the bubbly stuff, I excuse myself and head across the great room to the bar, where I help myself to a bottle of ale from the fridge beneath the bar. Champagne’s not my thing.

  “You got another one of those?”

  I look up, surprised to see Jonah leaning across the bar, peering down at the bottle of beer in my hand. “Sure.” I hand him a bottle. “Not a fan of champagne either?”

  “Nah. It’s too pretentious.” He pops off the cap and takes a long swig of my favorite beer and nods in approval. Then he reads the label and chuckles. “Zombie Dust, huh?”

  “I dare you to produce a better ale.”

  “Don’t think I can.” Jonah takes a seat on one of the barstools opposite me and surveys the mahogany bar with its brass fittings and vintage lights, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why does Shane have a bar – a real bar – in his apartment?”

  “He and my brothers used to hang out at a tavern in Old Town. A couple years ago, when they found out it was about to be demolished to put in a shopping center, they bought the bar and its fixtures and reassembled it here.”

  I glance behind me at the ornate mirror that spans the 10-foot length of the bar counter, the wooden racks of glasses hanging overhead, and the glass shelves holding scores of bottles of liquor. It is pretty cool, I have to admit.