The Mogul and the Muscle: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy Page 4

  But something was wrong, and it was driving me absolutely crazy. The thought of leaving her here alone made my stomach twist into a knot. I wasn’t sensing danger in her office, or even in this building. I sensed it in her. She was in danger.

  “Look, it sounds like Emily’s just concerned for your safety,” I said. “Didn’t someone attack you in the parking garage?”

  She waved a hand. “It was random, and I was fine.”

  Her voice was flippant, but if I had to guess, she didn’t fully believe that. Maybe she was trying to convince herself.

  “Still, I could at least do a security evaluation for you.” Why are you still talking, Jude? You can leave. “Find the weak points. Give you, and your friends, some piece of mind.”

  She lowered herself into her chair and motioned for me to sit. I took a seat across her desk from her.

  “What are your qualifications?”

  “Derek hired me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I crossed an ankle over my knee. “It means you can either trust his judgment or not. I don’t exactly have a resume.”

  “So what is it that you do? Bodyguard-for-hire?”

  “Sometimes. Depends on what the client needs. But this will be my last job. I keep trying to retire.” I cleared my throat, not sure why I’d told her that last part.

  “What was your most recent job?” She put up a hand. “I’m not asking for confidential client information. I’m just trying to get a better idea of what you do.”

  “Female college student. She was being harassed by an ex-boyfriend. His father was prominent politically. Made things complicated. She hired me, and now she no longer has a stalker.”

  She was hard to read, but the slight twitch of her eyebrows might have meant she was impressed.

  “Did you use violence?”

  I shook my head slightly. “Wasn’t necessary.”

  “But you would have.”

  “Only if my client had been in danger of serious harm. What are you concerned about, Ms. Whitbury? That Derek hired a thug? I don’t have a criminal record, nor have I ever broken anyone’s kneecaps with a baseball bat.”

  Her eyes stayed locked on mine. They were such a bright shade of green. The intensity of her gaze, coupled with that danger instinct that wouldn’t shut up, was making my adrenaline kick in. My heart beat harder, but I kept my posture casual. My face neutral.

  “Okay,” she said, finally. “I’ll hire you—temporarily. We’ll start with a security evaluation, and you can make your recommendations from there. I’ll take them under advisement.”

  There was a challenge in her expression. In the set of her full lips and the way her eyes narrowed slightly. Like she was daring me to convince her she needed me.

  All right, Cameron Whitbury. Challenge accepted.

  5

  Cameron

  Brandy poked her head into my office, leaning around the partially open door. She’d put on her you know you love me, don’t fire me smile. “Need something?”

  I answered without looking away from the document I was reviewing on my computer screen. “A few minutes of your time, if you aren’t too busy showing the Incredible Hulk around the office.”

  With a soft laugh, she came inside and shut the door behind her. “He’s not green.”

  “We haven’t seen him angry yet.”

  “Fair point.” She lowered herself into a chair on the opposite side of my desk.

  I clicked the mouse to save and close the document, then turned my attention to Brandy. “You knew about him?”

  She winced. “Emily texted last night and told me to expect him.”

  “And you didn’t give me a heads-up because…”

  “She said not to.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “Of course she did. What do we know about him?”

  “Not a lot. I looked him up after I got Emily’s text, but I didn’t find much. No social media. No mentions in news articles, at least not recent ones. He has a Florida driver’s license with a motorcycle endorsement, but that’s about it.”

  I tapped my fingernails on the desk. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Emily had hired me a bodyguard. That woman was stubborn. But even if I’d been expecting a bodyguard to walk in my office this morning, nothing could have prepared me for Jude Ellis.

  The man was enormous. I was five-nine with a love of high heels, so I was accustomed to looking men in the eye. But Jude? Even from across my office, he’d made me feel small. He had to be six-five, and I couldn’t even guess his weight. He had the widest shoulders I’d ever seen. And those cuffed shirtsleeves and tattoos? Holy arm porn. He looked like he could flex his biceps too hard and burst the seams of his shirt.

  But his size didn’t tell the whole story. Sure, his thick tattooed arms and the way his thighs strained against his slacks made him look like most of his body’s resources had gone into building muscle. But there was a sharp intelligence in those intriguing hazel eyes.

  “He’s friends with Derek Price,” Brandy said. “And you know Emily wouldn’t hire someone who wasn’t trustworthy.”

  “I know.” I trusted Emily. And Derek, at least as much as I knew him. But trust didn’t come easily to me, and my ex’s stunt with the sex tape hadn’t done anything to foster my faith in humanity. “That’s not really the point. I already told her I don’t need a bodyguard. And if you say, Cameron, you were attacked in our own parking garage, I swear to god, you’re fired.”

  “Cameron, you were attacked in our own parking garage.”

  I flicked my wrist, like I was shooing her out. “Pack your shit and go home.”

  “Fine, but if you don’t hire me back by morning, I’ll sell all your secrets to the competition.”

  “Traitor.”

  She shrugged. “You fired me.”

  “That’s true. I have only myself to blame.” My eyes flicked to my closed door. “What’s he been doing?”

  “Well, he asked for a tour, so I showed him around. He literally wanted to walk up and down every hallway. On every floor. It took forever. He looked in all the restrooms and supply closets, although I have no idea why. Then we went to the food court. I told him about the restaurants we have, but he didn’t seem interested. Or hungry. I got a latte while he wandered around and chatted with people.”

  “Was he freaking everyone out?”

  “You’d think, considering he looks like a pro wrestler crossed with an action hero. But he was very unobtrusive. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he made himself smaller so people wouldn’t notice him wandering around.”

  That was odd. And kind of fascinating. I didn’t want to be intrigued by this man, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Where is he now?”

  “He went down to the lobby to talk to the security staff. Am I still fired?”

  I fake-sighed. “I guess not. I can’t really live without you, so that’s a consideration.”

  “As long as you realize it.” She smiled. “Do you want me to send him in when he comes back?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Brandy stood. “Oh, don’t forget—”

  My office door swung open, interrupting her, and Bobby Spencer waltzed in like he owned the place.

  Theoretically, he could have, if he hadn’t turned out to be an entitled brat who knew nothing about the company his father had founded.

  “Cami, babe, how are you?” He was apparently trying to resurrect the Miami Vice look with a turquoise shirt, its collar popped, and linen slacks. He’d even rolled up the sleeves of his white blazer.

  I chose to ignore the fact that he’d called me Cami. No one called me Cami. My grandparents—the people who’d raised me—hadn’t called me Cami. Bobby had used that nickname on and off since second grade. But whenever I called him out on it, he just used it more often.

  “Knock before you come in, Bobby,” I said. “What was that, Brandy?”

  “I was going to say, don’t forget I have to leave early today. Mateo
has a dentist appointment.”

  “No problem.” I kept my eyes on Brandy while Bobby sat on the edge of my desk. “If you want to leave now and grab lunch with Julio, feel free.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see if he’s available,” she said with a smile. Her eyes flicked to Bobby, then back to me. “You also have that really important meeting in a few minutes. You wouldn’t want to be late.”

  God bless her. “Right. Thanks, Brandy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “What meeting?” Bobby asked.

  With a subtle roll of her eyes, Brandy slipped out.

  “Just a meeting. Part of my job.”

  “I’m just wondering what’s going on in your life, Cami,” he said. “We don’t talk enough. By the way, do you really just give your employees time off like that? You should dock her pay.”

  “Her three-year-old has a dentist appointment. I hardly think that’s cause for disciplinary action.”

  “You give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.”

  “Says the guy who’s never held a real job.”

  He huffed. “I’m an artist-entrepreneur. An artistpreneur. Hey, I like the sound of that. I need to get that on my business card.”

  Bobby was neither an artist nor an entrepreneur. He lived off his father’s wealth, and once in a while he pretended to start a new business. I knew better than to ask about his latest venture or why he was calling himself an artist now.

  “Do you need something, Bobby? Because I need to get to a meeting.”

  “Did I tell you about the girl I’ve been hanging out with?”

  I pretended to be absorbed in something on my computer screen. “Don’t sit on my desk.”

  “She doesn’t speak a lot of English, but we don’t need words to communicate, if you know what I mean.”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “You know what we should do? Go clubbing. I’ll bring Lola, and you can bring… Wait, are you dating anyone these days?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Oh crap, I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Why?” I still didn’t look at him. Hopefully if I didn’t make eye contact, he’d get bored sooner and leave me alone.

  “Me talking about another woman is making you jealous.”

  It was so hard not to laugh. “It’s really not.”

  “You don’t have a thing to worry about, Cami, you know my heart is yours. I’m just sowing my wild oats so I’ll be ready to settle down with you when the time comes.”

  “That time will never come, but good luck to the girl who has to fill that position.”

  He stood, finally getting his skinny butt off my desk, and did a few hip thrusts. “She’ll get all the positions, if you know what I mean.”

  “Gross, Bobby. Don’t you have art or entrepreneuring to do?”

  “Actually, I came up here to see if you want to come to my place tonight.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “To have dinner with me.”

  “I already told you to stop asking me out.”

  “Not a date,” he said, holding his hands up. “I just figured you could use a little comforting after someone attacked you in the parking garage. We could talk.”

  “Someone tried to attack me and failed. And no thanks.”

  “Come on, Cami, you work too hard. You need to let your hair down. Take the edge off. I can help with that.”

  “Still no,” I said. “Besides, I’m sure you have very important things to do tonight. Like jacking off to MILF porn and binge-watching Miami Vice.”

  “Already did both.”

  “Well haven’t you had a nice productive day.” I grabbed my purse, ready to get up and pretend to go to my nonexistent meeting. “Besides, why do you care if I work too hard?”

  “Cami,” he said, putting a hand to his chest. “I’m hurt. We’re childhood best friends. Of course I care about you.”

  My grandmother, Dorothia Whitbury, had been one of the top engineers here at Spencer. She’d been with the company since the beginning, and she and my grandad had been good friends with Milton Spencer. When Milton had realized an eight-year-old me had an interest in aviation, he’d insisted on helping with my private school tuition. That meant I’d received an amazing education. But I’d also had to go to school with his dipshit son.

  “We’re not childhood best friends.”

  “I’ll forgive you for saying that because you’re traumatized by the attack. And you’re probably on your period.”

  “Get out, Bobby.”

  “But first—”

  I lifted my eyes. “Get. Out.”

  The corner of Bobby’s mouth lifted in a smirk. He sucked in a breath, like he was about to say something, when a low voice came from behind him.

  “You heard her.”

  Jude looked like he’d barely fit through the door. If he had some magical ability to appear unobtrusive, he was doing the opposite now. It looked like one of his tree trunk legs weighed more than Bobby’s entire body.

  Bobby turned at Jude’s voice and I could see the smartass comment die on his lips. The color drained from his face and his barely-there Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

  Jude’s eyes shifted to meet mine. “Problem?”

  “No, he was just leaving.”

  Bobby glanced back at me. “Who’s this guy?”

  “Jude,” I said, dropping my phone in my purse. “My bodyguard.”

  I probably shouldn’t have said that—I hadn’t agreed to hire him for more than a security assessment—but seeing Bobby’s perpetually tanned face go pale made it worth it.

  “Cool,” Bobby said, his voice weak. “I guess you have that meeting, so I’ll let you get to it.”

  Jude moved aside, but not quite enough for Bobby to get past him. I tried to keep the amused smile off my face while Bobby shifted from one foot to the other, trying to figure out how to get through the door with Jude in his way. Finally, Jude side-stepped, giving Bobby just enough room to squeeze by.

  “Who was that?”

  I set my purse down, since I didn’t really have a meeting. “Robert Spencer, aka Bobby the douchebag. He’s the founder’s son and a regularly occurring pain in my ass.”

  Jude’s eyes narrowed slightly and he glanced back at the door. I thought maybe he’d comment on Bobby, but he didn’t say anything.

  “So, are you finished with the assessment?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, settling into a chair.

  “I don’t need you to make it formal. You can just email me your recommendations.”

  “I need to see your house first.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “I have adequate security at home.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I live in a gated community with twenty-four/seven security personnel, and my house is outfitted with a state-of-the-art alarm system. I don’t need additional security.”

  “I don’t think it was random,” he said.

  His square jaw with its careless bit of stubble was stupidly distracting. He was so hard and angular. Almost military. But there was a sophistication inherent in the way he moved that was a surprising contrast to his size. He wore a cuffed-sleeve button-down like a high-powered CEO but looked like he could lift the back end of a car without breaking a sweat. I had a feeling people often underestimated him.

  I knew what that was like.

  “What wasn’t random?” I asked, mentally kicking myself for getting lost in that rugged face.

  “The attempted mugging.”

  Points to him for calling it attempted. I wanted some damn credit for not getting robbed. “Of course it was random. It was dark and I was alone. Some guy tried to take my purse.”

  “Did he?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I watched the security footage. The guy didn’t try to grab your purse. He tried to grab you.”

  I crossed my arms. The entire incident had happened so fast. Had he been trying to grab me? I’d been holding my Chanel hand
bag tucked beneath my arm, so I’d assumed that was what he’d been after.

  “What are you saying?”

  “That it’s possible you were targeted, and the objective wasn’t your purse.”

  A sense of unease spread through my stomach, like a dribble of paint in clear water. “Well, if he was trying to kidnap me, he was terrible at it. All I had to do was stomp on his foot.”

  “That was a good move.”

  My lips turned up in a half-smile. “Thanks.”

  “Look, I can’t give you a definitive answer as to what that guy was after. Maybe it was a random incident. But my instincts are telling me it wasn’t. And it’s rare that my instincts are wrong.”

  I believed him—about his instincts, at least. My brain was railing against the idea that I’d been targeted in a kidnapping attempt.

  And I wondered what his instincts were telling him about me.

  “Fine. You can come home with me. But don’t expect me to put out unless you buy me dinner first.”

  His jaw hitched, an almost imperceptible tic. Nothing about his expression changed, and I wondered if I’d imagined it.

  But the thought that I’d just ruffled this solid wall of man was oddly amusing. I kind of wanted to see if I could do it again.

  I still didn’t need a bodyguard, though. And once I had his security assessment, I’d smugly report back to Emily that she’d wasted her time. I’d hire a few more people here at headquarters if necessary. Maybe beef up security in the enclave. And let Jude get on with his retirement.

  6

  Jude

  I’d left the bike at home today, so I followed Cameron in my SUV. Interesting that she drove a Tesla. She could probably afford just about any vehicle she wanted. Of course, it had to have set her back at least a hundred grand, so it wasn’t like the CEO of Spencer Aeronautics was tooling around in a practical sedan. I wondered if it was the engineer in her. She liked the tech.

  We turned into the Bluewater enclave and stopped at the gate. I could see her speaking to the guard, then he waved me through after her. We drove down a street lined with palm trees, surrounded by lush landscaping.