ChapterSix
It had been so long since Sam had set foot inside a mall that she’d missed that pivotal point in time when ‘generic mall music’ had become everything she’d listened to as a teenager.
Is there anything more torturous than shopping? This was Sam’s life now. A life she had completely forgotten about. Because even back when she’d worked in the field, most of her clients had been executives and politicians who had more important things to do than go shopping. Even when they went out, to the theater or a restaurant, it was to schmooze with someone. It wasn’t because they needed to find the perfect pair of heels to match the new skirt they’d bought.
But this was all part of the job. And whether she was at a mall with a young heiress or on the way to a political rally, Sam was a consummate professional, and always on the lookout for threats to her client’s safety. A busy, crowded shopping mall presented the perfect opportunity to anyone who wanted to harm her client.
She still didn’t know who or what it was that potentially wanted to harm Bianca Black. Vivianne hadn’t told Sam anything further. In fact, the woman hadn’t spoken to her at all since hiring Rainier. Sam was in the dark about whatever was going on.
But it wasn’t her place to question the jobs her company took. It was her place to make sure they got done.
So she watched over Bianca, shadowing her every step, alert to every person who got a little too close or looked at her client a moment too long.
All the while, Bianca was oblivious. For two hours, she wandered from store to store, dropping obscene amounts of money on clothes, makeup, hair care products, and small electronics. The saleswomen at the makeup and perfume counters at Macy’s knew her by name and grinned like mad when Bianca arrived to sample the latest from Shiseido and Chanel. Her foray into Hot Topic was entirely sincere, and Sam was taken aback to realize the ‘alternative’ shop had gone from goth chic to pop culture haven sometime in the past ten years.
Then, there was the K-pop store. The moment they entered the bright pop-up store with racks and walls full of imported merchandise, she realized that the off-hand comments some of her employees made about ‘BTS this’ and ‘BlackPink that’ weren’t just their quirky tastes or their own kids’ random obsessions. K-pop had well and truly taken hold in the Pacific Northwest.
These guys are so Photoshopped I don’t get the appeal. Granted, Sam didn’t get the appeal of any man.
Before she knew it, they were standing before the only shelf that promoted girl group merchandise.
“Here it is!” Bianca dropped half of her bags to snatch a plastic folder from the depths of a display filled with T-shirts and sports towels. “I know this means nothing to you, but it’s so hard to find Red Velvet stuff around here.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Sam said.
Bianca added the folder to the small metal basket on her arm and headed toward the register. It was her first—and only—purchase in the shop. “Like I said, I know it means nothing to you.”
“I’m just doing my job.”
As they joined the line, Bianca examined Sam with pursed lips. “What kind of music do you listen to? Matchbox 20? The Rolling Stones? Bach?”
“How old do you think I am?” Sam wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not.
“I know how old you are.” They moved up a spot. “You’re thirty.”
“That’s not on the website.” Sam didn’t put anyone’s ages on the Rainier website. Most of her talent was on the younger or older end, and she was well aware that clients could be ageist in either direction. Too young and you’re inexperienced. Too old and you can’t keep up. That went double for the thirty-year-old owner.
“It’s not that hard to find.”
Had Bianca gone stalking through her social media? Why was her young client so interested in her? Sam wasn’t an idiot. She hadn’t missed Bianca’s not-so-subtle flirtations. But it was clearly just a game to her, a way for a bored heiress to entertain herself. Was she even into women, let alone Sam?
It didn’t matter. Sam wasn’t falling for it. And she had no intention of wavering from her usual professionalism, no matter how much Bianca pushed her buttons.
Because there was no way she was interested in this spoiled, manipulative vixen, with the face of an angel and the kind of body that Sam dreamed of pinning to the bed with her own and taming into submission…
The cashier cleared her throat. It was Bianca’s turn to check out.
They left the store, one more bag in Bianca’s hands. During their sojourn to the mall, she’d accumulated a number of bags. Some were small enough to stash inside one another, and sometimes Bianca had the wherewithal to consolidate bags to save on plastic and paper. But this was a woman who stopped in every other store to spend half of her inheritance. She had bags.
And every so often, she fluttered her eyelashes in Sam’s direction, silently imploring her to carry some. Sam simply gave her a stare that said, “Not going to happen.” That was not part of her job description. Just like driving her client to the mall in her car was not part of her job description.
Yet here Sam now was, standing in the short hallway of a clothing shop’s changing room. Bianca was behind the door, tossing clothes around and occasionally talking herself in and out of buying things. The shop assistant—who must have worked on commission—was in and out, bringing Bianca different sizes and colors of whatever she wanted. She also apologized profusely when she wrote Bianca’s name wrong on the door.
Nobody paid much mind to Sam, who stood against the wall with her arms crossed and a plethora of bags at her feet. The last time Sam had done something like this—followed a girl around the mall, guarded her possessions while she tried on clothes—was on that fateful job, the one that had ended badly enough to make her start working behind the scenes instead of in the field.
But unlike the diplomat’s fourteen-year-old daughter, Bianca had no excuse for acting like a teenager. She was in her early twenties. Old enough to not act like a demanding princess. “Take me here. Follow me there. Hold this. Give me that. You’re going the wrong way. Park outside Macy’s. Come on, Sam!”
She had a headache. It didn’t matter how pretty Bianca was. She was a bossy debutante who needed to be verbally put in her place if Sam was to keep her sanity… and her spine.