Hollywood Princess (Hollywood Royalty 2)

I shake my head. “That seems extreme to me.” I look at Cori who just looks at Tommy. “I’ve never had one-on-one.”

“I know you haven’t, but”—he looks around the table and then back at me—“with you getting all those creepy letters.” He looks down, trying to find the right words. I think back to the three they showed me a couple of weeks ago. I am not going to lie; they made the hair on my neck stand up, especially since it was just block letters cut out of magazines and no writing, but they basically all said the same. He wanted to make me his wife. I was made for him.

“I’m sorry, what?” I shake my head. “Two hours ago, I was on stage in the middle of rehearsal. Now I’m here, and you are talking about upping my security team?”

“Well,” Tommy says, “we feel that with everything going on, we should increase your security. Someone who can be your shadow and make sure you’re okay. Where you go, he goes type of thing. Just the other day, they apprehended someone on Tyler Beckett’s property.”

“No.” I shake my head because this is not what I want at all. “I thought all this was taken care of?” I ask them, but a knock on the door gets my attention. I turn around and watch as the door opens slowly, or at least in my mind it’s slow. This can’t be, I think as I stare at the man standing at the door. He’s staring at Tommy and not at me. Typical.

“Oh, good, you guys made it.” I hear from beside me, but my eyes never move away from the one guy who pushed me away every time I fawned over him. And now he’s standing in front of me with his aviators hiding his blue eyes. The same blue eyes I’ve lost myself in so many times, hoping he would actually see me, but he never did.

“Kellie, meet your new security detail.”

Chapter Two

Brian

“Good morning, everyone.” I look up from the newspaper, watching as my boss, Hunter, walks into the room. “I hope you got rest this weekend because it’s about to get crazy.” I fold the paper closed and look around the room. Dante and Dominic, my co-workers, look up from what they are doing. Only one person is missing, and that’s Anthony, my other boss. The two of them started Watch Over Me Security six years ago. Just coming out of the military, they both got contracts to protect senators and congressmen and then slowly branched out. Now we have more celebrities than we know what to do with.

“Okay, gentlemen.” Rachel, our office manager and tech expert, gets up from her desk and hands us all the same paper. I look down, and my stomach turns as soon as I see Kellie’s face in the corner. Kellie fucking Hudson with her megawatt smile filling her beautiful face and her long blond hair curled perfectly. I was in charge of her ten times, and each time, I had to sneak her in to see her new boyfriend. She was known as a serial dater. The press was all over her, wondering who her next boyfriend would be. When she started dating a new guy, she didn’t want anyone to know, so sneaking her in and out was my job. One time, I had a suitcase full of wigs. If the cops had pulled me over, it would have been interesting to try to explain that one. She would land, and I was tasked with making sure no one knew she was even in town. Each time was a success; no one even had an inkling.

The minute I saw her, something pulled me to her, but she had a boyfriend, so I shut that shit down. Or tried to. But every time she was near me, my heart sped up and my hands would get clammy. And each time, I reminded myself she was off limits and, more importantly, out of my league. Her visits with her boyfriend stayed the same, but she ended up staying with him less, and during the last couple of times, she spent more time with me in my car than with her boyfriend. Then it was over. I found out when it was plastered on the cover on the celebrity rags. Someone got a tip she was dating him, and now she wasn’t.

“Another boyfriend?” I ask sarcastically. “Great,” I mumble under my breath. Anthony finally comes into the room, excusing himself for being late. Rachel gives him the side-eye but hands him a paper. He scans it and flips the page over.

“No,” Rachel says and clicks a button on her desk. We are in the basement of the house we work out of, and this is really her domain or, as she calls it, her playground. Numerous computer screens hang on the four walls, displaying every single traffic camera we have access to—not that the city knows. But now different pictures of Kellie fill the screens, all of which she looks beautiful in. Even the one with a hood covering her head and wearing dark sunglasses so you can’t see her green eyes. “I’m assuming everyone knows Kellie.” She flicks a button again, and now it’s the picture on the sheet. “She is going on tour; her first ever tour in five years.” I start reading her stats, but I know them all already because she made me listen to her for a whole forty-five minutes once about her astrological sign. “Ninety days around the world. She will be traveling on a private plane or a tour bus, depending on her mood and her timeframe.”