“Can I help you?” the man asked.
“I’m Sandra Porter. My son and I have a meeting scheduled.”
He held out his hand. “I’m Leo. It’s nice to meet you in person.” He turned to me then.
“Lane. I’m Lane.”
He gave me an appreciative look. “It’s very nice to meet you too.”
When I shook his hand, his grip was firm but not tight like he was showing off. I should be salivating to get his number, but I just kept comparing him to Giorgio, which was ridiculous. They looked nothing alike, though they both had the same cold danger in their eyes.
“Head straight back.” Leo pointed to a curtained-off area at the back of the shop. “Giorgio is waiting for you in the room on the left.”
Giorgio? I had to have heard that wrong. No way could it be the same man. The man who’d refused to give me details about his job. Oh fuck.
I hurried to the door ahead of my mom. I needed to know.
My breath caught when I stepped into the small office. There he was, standing by the window, the man who’d fulfilled my every fantasy a few weeks ago and had been the star of all my jerk-off sessions since. He looked much as he had that night. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he wore a black t-shirt and dark jeans.
When he turned to look at me, his eyes widened for just a second, then he schooled his face.
My mother swept in, oblivious to the tension between us, and held out her hand to Giorgio.
“It’s lovely to see you again.”
Again? She’d met Giorgio before? How? Where?
“It’s a pleasure to see you, Ms. Porter.” His voice was even and calm, not at all how it had sounded when he’d gotten me to my apartment.
Heat filled my face. I had to stop thinking about that night. The last thing I needed was a boner while I was here with my mother. She turned toward me. “This is my son, Lane.”
Giorgio held out his hand to me, obviously intending to act as though we’d never met. That was for the best. I didn’t need my mother interrogating me about how I knew this man. When we shook, electricity shot through me, and I almost pulled away. I struggled to find my voice. “Nice to meet you.”
“If you’d like to take a seat, I can talk through the proposal about how my team and I plan to protect you.”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” my mother said as she gave my shoulder a push toward the chairs situated in front of a large desk.
I sat and she did likewise. I barely heard what Giorgio said as he explained the contract and what he would be doing for me. All I could think about was being with him all day every day for however long. That sounded both terrible and amazing. I’d wanted more of him since the night I’d brought him home. A sex fest in a secluded cabin sounded phenomenal, but I truly had work to do, and I wasn’t sure he was interested. Except for the first second after he’d recognized me, Giorgio’s eyes had remained cold. Was that just for show? I hoped so because I already didn’t want a bodyguard. Having one that made me think of sex twenty-four seven and not getting to touch him would be pure torture.
When I tuned back in, my mother was saying, “How long do you think it will take to neutralize this threat against my son?”
I was still concerned about exactly what he and my mother meant by ‘neutralize the threat,’ more so now that I’d been to this clandestine office. If Giorgio was a bodyguard, why hadn’t he just said that the other night? And why did he have a hidden office? Maybe he’d worked for some famous people or something. I was probably trying to turn this all into something more elaborate than it was.
Giorgio glanced down at the file in front of him. “That depends. We need to see how much concrete evidence we can line up against the stalker. The more we find, the easier it will be to get him convicted.”
“And if you can’t find concrete evidence?” I asked.
Giorgio looked at me, and just like when I’d first noticed him at Ignite, I saw danger and hardness in his eyes. “Then we’ll find another way to eliminate him.”
“I have a restraining order, but it hasn’t helped. The police don’t seem to care. They say there’s nothing they can do, or they bring him in and then let him go a few hours later. It’s my word against his anyway, and that never goes well for me.”
“And why is that?” Giorgio asked.
I huffed. “Because I’m young and”—I waved a hand down my body—“effeminate and loud.”