The Best Next Thing

He finally managed to fish out his phone and frowned when he saw Vicki’s face and name on the screen. She never called, preferring texts and every social media app on the face of the earth to actually picking up the phone and talking. The fact that she was calling immediately set off alarm bells.

“Vicki? What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong? Maybe I miss you. Maybe I’m worried about you.” His sister’s tart voice made him grin, and he relaxed. It didn’t sound like anything was drastically awry.

“Are you?”

“A little…but mostly I want you to call off your goon. He’s driving me insane.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This musclebound oaf”—Miles heard an offended masculine “Hey, now!” in the background and his grin widened—“you hired to follow me around. I swear to God, he barely lets me go to the bathroom alone.”

“Then he’s doing his job.”

Vicki was a florist, specializing in cutesy, kitschy, animal arrangements, and her shop had been robbed just before Miles had been hospitalized. Ill, and barely thinking straight, he had asked his security team to assign someone to watch his little sister. His mother and brother both had low key security details. But he wanted someone massive and intimidating to be Vicki’s shadow at all times. His sister was sweet and fragile and a little naïve, and he had blamed himself for not following his gut and pushing the security issue harder with her before the incident. She had flashed him her gentle smile and told him she didn’t feel comfortable with people following her around, and he had melted like butter and been more relaxed with her security. And then some bastard with a gun had roughed her up, vandalized her store, and robbed her.

Miles wasn’t allowing that to happen ever again.

“Miles, he went into the ladies’ room at Harrods to check if it was empty before allowing me to go to the loo.”

“Was it empty?”

“No. He then demanded the women there leave.” Miles heard the male voice say something in the background, and Vicki blasted an impatient breath directly into the phone. Her next words were evidently aimed at her bodyguard. “I don’t care how polite you think you were, Tyler! It was still rude.”

“Vicki, let me talk to him.”

“Tell him he was way out of bounds, Miles,” Vicki said, her voice edged with frustration. There were muffled noises as she handed the phone over.

“Sir?” The deep voice on the other end had a Texan twang to it.

“It’s Chambers, right?” Miles asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing. I want her safe.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good man. Now let me speak with her again.”

“Did you tell him, Miles?” Vicki asked.

“I told him to keep up the good work.”

“Miles, come on, this is ridiculous. The store was robbed. It happens. If you want to help, stick this guy on shop security or something. I’m just a regular woman. I can’t have this…this person following me around like I’m some pop star or…or heiress or something.”

“You are an heiress,” Miles corrected her, striving for patience while he took a sip from his coffee. “You’re my heiress.”

“Ugh! That’s just… it’s just…”

“Vic, just bear with me, okay? When I’m feeling better, I’ll ask the security company to be less obvious with your detail. But while I’m here and not able to keep an eye on things myself, it would really ease my mind, and probably aid in my recovery, if you’d humor me for now.”

Pulling the sick card was a low blow, but he knew she would feel obliged to acquiesce to his request. Especially when he never usually asked her for anything.

“Okay,” she muttered begrudgingly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

“Noted.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Miles.” The impatience in her voice told him she was probably rolling her eyes as well.

“A little tired after the flight,” he admitted. “But you know how peaceful this place is. It’s even quieter at this time of year. I think this will do me the world of good.”

“You should have gone someplace warmer and drier.”

“It’s not damp here, just cold and rainy.”

“Cold and rainy is the definition of damp.”

“The house has central heating,” he muttered, aware of how defensive he sounded. “And it’s not like I’m going to be wandering around in the rain.”

“You sure about that? I know how much you enjoy your long, meandering hikes.”

“I’m here to rest.”

“Make sure that you do.”

Miles couldn’t help but smile at the words. His sister was seven years younger than he was, but she sometimes fussed over him like she was the older one.

“How are Hugh and Mum?”

“If this is your sneaky way of trying to find out if Hugh’s pulling his weight at the company, I’m totally not telling.”

“If I wanted to know that I’d ask Bry—”

“He wouldn’t tell you either.” She sounded so smug.