ChapterTwenty-Three
“Sounds like a hell of a job you’re working there,” the voice at the other end of the line said.
“All I can say is, it hasn’t been simple.” Sam adjusted the height of her Bluetooth mic as she pulled a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread out of the fridge. It took her far too long to find what passed for butter in Bianca’s apartment, but Bianca was still in bed, and Sam didn’t want to bother her.
Carmen laughed. “Protecting a stubborn heiress who doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no? I’ve been there.”
Sam checked the slowly warming frying pan as she chuckled at her friend’s comment. While she and Carmen Diaz lived in different cities, they’d crossed paths in their jobs as bodyguards and had been friends ever since. There weren’t a lot of female bodyguards at the elite level they were both at. And they both had military backgrounds, although Carmen was a Marine, not Air Force.
“I thought you’d retired to a life behind a desk,” Carmen said. “What happened?”
“I made an exception. This client is… special.”
There was a long silence at the other end of the line. “What aren’t you telling me, Reddy?”
“It’s complicated,” Sam replied. “So, when are you going to come work for me at Rainier?”
Carmen was diplomatic enough not to comment on the abrupt change of subject. “You ask me this every time we talk.”
“Because I want you on my team. We could use your skills.” Sam didn’t bother to mention the generous salary on offer. Considering Carmen was in a relationship with Amber Pryce, whose fortune rivaled the Black family’s, no amount of money could tempt her.
“And as much as I’d love to work with you, I can’t move to Seattle. Besides, I’m actually thinking of doing what you did. Taking a step back, running things behind the scenes from the office. Maybe even starting my own firm.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t like how much my job stresses Amber out. And I don’t blame her for being worried about me. There’s a lot of risk in our line of work. And I love my job, but I started doing it for unhealthy reasons. I threw myself into my work, my career, because it made me forget all the things I didn’t want to think about or feel.”
“I can relate to that,” Sam muttered.
“But now I have someone who makes me want to slow down and really start living. Amber and I, we’re building a life together. That’s what I want to wake up every morning for. Not my job. Her. Us.”
“That sounds… nice.” No small part of Sam wanted that too, to wake up every morning with Bianca by her side.
But right now, they were so deep in this mess that it was getting harder to see a future where that was a reality.
“Anyway, I gotta go,” Carmen said. “Amber just got back from visiting her mom. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we’ll catch up.”
“Let me know if you’re ever in Seattle. Say hi to Amber for me.”
Sam hung up the call. The frying pan was hot now. She cracked four eggs straight into it before searching the cupboards for seasoning. Bianca didn’t cook often, and it showed.
Finally, she settled on peppercorn and oregano, shaking both onto the eggs before popping four slices of toast into the toaster. Two for her, two for Bianca. Currently, the mistress of the house was lying in bed, scrolling through social media and sighing. At least, that was how Sam had left her twenty minutes ago.
Ever since the incident with her mother, she’s been distant. At first, Sam had worried that she and the team would be fired due to her unprofessionalism. What if she’d ruined a great job for her employees? What if she had to scorched-earth everythingand start over a second time?
But Vivianne Black hadn’t spoken to Sam or Bianca at all since she walked in on them. Sam felt that it was for the best. Bianca, however, was inconsolable. For the first two days, she took her mother’s withdrawal well, but on the third day, she had once again started to panic that her mother—maybe even both her parents—no longer loved her. It had taken all of Sam’s efforts to soothe her.
What a mess. That was true of the situation with Vivianne, as well as the scrambled eggs that were close to burning in the frying pan. Who shuts out their daughter like that? Well, Sam knew exactly the kind of mother who did that. Didn’t she have one, too?
She desperately hoped that what happened to her didn’t happen to Bianca.
Sam turned off the burner and placed the frying pan aside. This needs some cheese on top. She couldn’t find any in Bianca’s fridge, but she knew she had some down in her guest suite. Once Sam was sure everything was shut off, she grabbed her keys from the counter and opened the front door.
As she stepped into the hallway, she almost trod on a piece of paper waiting on the doormat.
Mail? At this time of the morning?Hell, mail at the door? One of the first things Sam had learned about the building’s security was that all mail was filtered through the mailroom downstairs, then filtered through one of the assistants who had everything individually delivered by the late afternoon. Especially now, with security on high alert.
But the envelope was small and didn’t have a stamp. It hadn’t come through the mail. Maybe it was from Vivianne or one of Bianca’s sisters. It might have even been a note for Sam, from one of her employees.