Thinking through what I wanted for my business took longer than writing it down.
I braced myself for a lecture or at least a sigh of disappointment, but all Christian said was, “Let me see what you have so far.”
I retrieved the papers from the coffee table and handed them to him.
The phantom of his touch lingered on my skin, but the tension from earlier dissolved into nerves as I waited for his feedback.
After an interminable silence, he handed the document back to me. “Good.”
“Good?”
That’s it?
“Yes, good. The executive summary is clear and succinct, and you’ve clearly done your market research. It could use a few tweaks, but we’ll do that after the full draft is complete.” His lips curved. “I didn’t expect you to put together a full plan in one week, Stella, especially since you haven’t done one before.”
Relief loosened the knot in my chest. “You could’ve told me that earlier. You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
I was the student who’d always completed her homework on time. The thought of missing an assignment made my skin crawl.
Disappointment. Failure.
I shook off the insidious voices before they could dig their claws into me, but their echoes remained, dampening my enthusiasm.
“If I told you, would you have gotten as much done?”
I sighed at his logic. “Probably not.”
“Exactly.” Christian’s gaze slid to the TV. “Though I’m sorry I interrupted your thrilling Spice Girls performance. You truly missed your calling as a girl band member.”
I narrowed my eyes, well aware that my middle school music teacher had once compared my vocal skills to that of a dying cat.
She hadn’t been a very nice teacher.
“My performance was for me, not you. You were intruding.” I removed my under-eye patches as casually as possible. Between the singing, dancing, and ice cream, I’d embarrassed myself enough without having one of the patches slide off on its own.
“It’s my house.”
“It’s still polite to announce your presence.”
“I would’ve, but I was too fascinated by the sight of you stumbling around my living room like a drunken baby elephant.” Laughter rumbled from his chest at my indignant gasp. I wasn’t the best dancer, but I was a better dancer than a drunken elephant. Probably. Maybe. “In a charming way, of course.”
My dignity would never recover from this.
“Of course. That makes me feel so much better.” I lifted my chin and switched subjects before I exploded from sheer mortification. “Speaking of performances, I have my first Delamonte photoshoot next week. In New York.” Christian’s laughter died down, though traces of amusement lingered around his mouth. “Dates?”
I told him.
“Noted. We’ll take my jet.”
I stared at him, sure I’d heard wrong. “You’re coming with me?”
“The word we does imply that, yes.”
In public, he was so polite and friendly, but in private, he could be a sarcastic ass.
“Don’t you have a business to run?” He must have more important things on his plate than accompanying his fake girlfriend to a photoshoot.
“If my business can’t survive two days without me, then I haven’t done my job as CEO. Not to mention, your not so friendly secret admirer is still on the loose. Chances are slim he’ll follow you to New York, but we don’t want to risk it.”
“Brock can accompany me. I like him. He’s nice.”
Granted, I’d met him once and never saw him again, but I felt his warm, reassuring presence whenever I left the house. Having a bodyguard wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined.
Plus, I wasn’t tempted to have sex with him, which was a big plus.
Christian’s expression didn’t shift, but the temperature suddenly plunged twenty degrees.
“Brock will not be accompanying you. I will.” His words contained so much frost I could’ve used them to carve an ice sculpture. “His job is to stay out of sight and keep you safe. Nothing else. Has he been doing his job, Stella?”
I sensed it was a trick question.
“Yes?” I ventured.
I didn’t know what raised Christian’s hackles, but I didn’t want to get Brock fired.
“Good.”
I was beginning to hate that word.
I crossed my arms, both to hide how unnerved I was and to shield myself from the arctic waves of Christian’s displeasure.
“Bad day at work?” I asked. “Or is morphing into a mercurial beast part of your nighttime routine?”
His only response was the press of his gaze on my skin.
I’d been joking, but now that I looked more closely, I observed tiny signs of stress. Tension tautened the blade of his jaw, and a small furrow creased his brow. His body hummed with the dark, restless buzz of frustration.
“Bad day at work?” I repeated, softer this time.
I expected Christian to brush off my concern. To my surprise, he answered frankly. “Difficult client.”
“I imagine you deal with a lot of those.”
Harper Security’s client list was a who’s who of CEOs, celebrities, and royalty. That was a ton of ego for one company to handle.
“Not as much as you’d expect.” He slid out of his jacket and draped it over the back of the couch. His shirt stretched taut over his broad shoulders, and his muscles flexed with every movement.
Stop.Now is notthe time to ogle.
“If someone insists on being a pain, we show them the door, and they’re never allowed back in. I run a security company, not a daycare. I don’t have time to babysit inflated egos. That being said…” A wry note crept into his tone. “Some egos are attached to useful contacts. This client is pissed because I signed a contract to provide services to their competitor. He’s threatening to pull his account if I don’t dump the competitor.”
Grown men were truly pettier than high schoolers. “I assume he’s a big client?”
“One of my biggest.”