“Oh, so they’re amateurs, then.”
“Definitely not. Their track record is impressive, to say the least,” he answered. “Don’t worry, I vetted them pretty well.”
“So why exactly are they doing it for free?” she asked, perplexed. Deacon smiled wide.
“I guess that’s a question you’ll just have to ask your bodyguard.”
Chapter Three (#ub851eade-8731-5468-91ba-2834fc312a97)
Traffic.
Here it was again.
Jonathan looked out his rental’s window and snorted.
“Welcome to New York City,” he said to himself.
He’d been stuck in standstill traffic for the last half hour thanks to a fender bender that had escalated to the point of the cops being called. It had made the two lanes of traffic that had been moving along nicely stop dead.
Unnecessary. Annoying. Unpleasant.
It probably didn’t help that he could use all three descriptors for his current client, Kathryn Spears. Instead of waiting for him at the airport like Nikki and the woman’s father had agreed on the night before, Jonathan had landed to a voice mail from her saying she’d gone ahead to the hotel.
Because, in her words, “I really need some better coffee.”
After ten more minutes of waiting, traffic finally started to pick up again. Jonathan had spent the time while he waited going over the route to the hotel in an attempt to not get lost. He’d been to New York before and he knew the frustration of getting turned around this close to Times Square. Thankfully he avoided any misdirection, a feat considering if he had missed the turn into the hotel’s parking garage—an almost hidden entrance due to the sidewalk that was barely sloped for a car to drive up—he would have had to take a series of left turns until he made his way back. Costing him more time away from fulfilling Orion’s end of the contract.
He parked, sent a text to Nikki to let her know he’d finally gotten in and collected his bag. It contained a suit, pressed and folded, along with a myriad of pristine yet flexible clothing. It was light but had everything he needed for the Friday-through-Tuesday stay—not the longest contract he’d done nor the shortest. But, as he’d told Nikki, it would be his last. In his mind he went over the layout of the building as he rode up in the elevator. Above the parking garage, there were four floors. A lounge area branched off the lobby on the first floor with guests having access to a twenty-four-hour gym. There were two sets of stairs on opposite sides of the building with two elevators positioned next to them, diagonal from the lobby front desk. The front entrance led directly to the sidewalk that ran along the street.
Jonathan hadn’t stayed at the dismal pink-painted hotel before, but Jillian had walked him through its layout before he’d left. It was nice to know what he was going into versus going in blind. Orion agents prided themselves on being prepared—though that wasn’t always easy, considering people often did surprising things—and since Orion’s expansion three years ago they’d gotten better at it. Even when a contract changed at the last second.
He looked at his reflection in the elevator door and let out a grunt. Not getting the best sleep the night before and catching an early flight, he hoped the client didn’t notice the dark circles beneath his eyes. He blamed the chatty man who’d had the aisle seat next to him. It made him wonder if Kathryn was like that, recalling what he had been told initially by Nikki at Mark’s engagement party.
“I wouldn’t ask you to take this one, since, for one, you just got back, and, two, you just asked for a desk job. But the man requesting our services was so concerned...I could almost feel it myself.” Nikki’s eyes had traveled to the wall at that. It was a blank space, but he knew on the other side was her real target. A single picture of a young woman. The reason behind Orion’s origin. The woman who had changed their lives, whom Nikki, Oliver, Mark and Jonathan couldn’t have been what they were now without. The woman they hadn’t saved. “He lives in Florida but heard about us through one of Thomas’s recent clients. His daughter has been receiving some really troubling letters.”
“His daughter?”
“Yes, a scientist—book smart but maybe not exactly up to par on the common sense. Her father, Deacon—what a name—says she’s pretty nonchalant about the whole thing, but he’s completely freaked. She’s due to present her research at a convention in New York City on Sunday and he’s worried the person or persons sending her the letters—to her home, I might add—might try to cause her harm before she can make it there.”
“And that’s where we come in.”
“Hopefully that’s where you come in.”
Jonathan respected his boss and friend too much to turn the request down on the spot. Though he had been on the fence about it until the next day.
When she’d shown him the pictures of the letters Deacon had faxed over, they’d made a chill run up his spine despite his calm.
“Okay, I’m in.”
And he’d stayed in even after the call had come in that said scientist refused to have more than one bodyguard around. Never mind her safety was in question.
The doors slid open and Jonathan made his way to check in with a suddenly sour mood hanging over his head at the thought of Kathryn Spears. Other than the basic information about her, he really didn’t have much to go on, but he had already formed an opinion about her.
She was controlling, apathetic and had an ego. There were no doubts about it.
“Welcome, and how may I help you?” chirped the front desk attendant. He looked to be in his early twenties. His name tag read Jett.
Jonathan set down his bag and started to take out his ID.
“Check-in for Jonathan Carmichael.” He passed his driver’s license over as well as the company credit card, having done the hotel check-in dance many times before. Another part of this routine was his next question.
“Can you tell me if my friend has checked in yet? The name’s Kathryn Spears.”
The man looked back up and without missing a beat nodded.
“About an hour ago.”
That surprised Jonathan.
“You remember her?” he asked.
“Yeah, the first thing she did was ask for coffee that was actually good.” Jett didn’t seem to be offended by the question. “I sent her to a café a block over.” His eyes went over Jonathan’s shoulder. “I guess she found some.”
Jonathan didn’t have to follow the man’s gaze too far. Walking through the front doors, Kathryn had a cup between her hands and no trace of a smile across her lips. She met his stare with recognition he didn’t expect and made a beeline for him.
“Mr. Carmichael,” she said, stretching out her free hand. There was no question in the greeting. “Glad to see you finally made it.”
Despite himself he grinned.
“Miss Spears, glad to see you were able to get that coffee that was so important.” They shook and he was once again surprised by the woman. Not only was her grip firm, but she held it longer than necessary, squeezing tight as she answered.
“Two coffees, actually.”
They dropped hands but his grin stayed. Even though he’d been shown her picture before he’d left Orion, the still of the woman sitting behind a desk covered in papers didn’t do the woman before him justice. She was attractive, sure, but there was something else there that caught and held his attention. An unspoken element that he couldn’t yet place or define.
Suddenly, Jonathan Carmichael was intrigued by his client.
“I would have waited for you,” she continued, voice notably cool, “but I’ll be honest, I think you being here is a bit unnecessary.”
Jonathan let out a laugh at that, considering earlier he had thought the same about her.
“Don’t you want to play it safe rather than be sorry?” he asked.
Kathryn’s lip quirked up at the corner. Her smile wasn’t humorous.
“I’d rather not have to worry about a bodyguard following me around everywhere, watching my every move while I get ready for one of the largest career moves of my life.” She popped her hip out to the side a fraction, he noticed. “That would be my choice if I’d been given one.”
Jonathan couldn’t decide if the way she spoke was born out of ego or frustration, but he definitely felt a chill wafting from each word. Part of him instantly felt the need to defend his skills and the company that was more than just his employer but an important part of his life. However, Jett was obviously still listening in, so the bodyguard went a more judicious route.