Contingency Plan (Blackbridge Security 3)

“They’re threatening a breach of contract.”

“Fuck.” Both hands go to the back of my neck. “I didn’t mean to cause problems.”

Chasing and catching Remington was never part of my plans. Violating a contract was, until now, something I’d never do, something I’ll never do again.

“If it helps, we hadn’t… things didn’t go that far until after they fired me.”

“Your personal life isn’t my business. What happens between two consenting adults isn’t something I’m going to stick my nose in.”

“I crossed the line between personal and business with her. That makes my actions a burden you’re having to deal with. Are you going to tell them she’s here in town?”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” He winks at me.

The Blairs aren’t exactly terrorists, but I get the sentiment.

“If she doesn’t want them to know she’s here, then it’s not my place to tell them. Besides,” he pulls another one of those awful gossip magazines from his top draw, slapping it on the desk in front of me, “if they keep up with this shit, I don’t have to say a word.”

“Jesus, they need to find something newsworthy.”

I look down at the pictures, thankful for the small favor that she isn’t plastered on the front page. Remington, looking flustered but nonetheless gorgeous, is smiling down at a customer inside Paddy’s. She has a pen in her hand, notepad at the ready for the guy’s order. Her hair is wild, wisps floating out at her temples, her clothes rumpled from working hard. She’s absolutely stunning.

“That smile,” Deacon says, forcing me to look up at him.

“What about it?” I wasn’t even aware I was doing it, but him mentioning it makes me self-conscious.

“I see it on my own face every day in the mirror.” He leans back in his chair, hands clasped on his chest. “It looks good on you.”

“This may fuck everything up,” I mutter, pointing to the magazine, the headline reading Real Life Cinderella? Where Is Her Prince Charming? “If they know she’s here, it’s going to make things harder on me. She took off from New York because of this shit.”

“She took off for you, Flynn. There are thousands of other cities she could’ve settled in, but she came straight here. Wren looked. She doesn’t have any other connections to this city. Only you.”

I’ve let myself think the same thing, but I didn’t want to be so egotistical about it. She came to town to put me in my place, and she could’ve left again at any point, but she settled in—somewhat, considering she’s still living in a hotel—got a job and is working less than ten minutes from my office.

“She’s playing hard to get.”

“And what are you going to do when you catch her?”

I smile. “Make her mine.”

“Atta boy. Now get out of here. I have a pregnant wife to get back to.”Chapter 34Remington

It’s possible that my shoes are finally broken in the way I need them to be, or it’s the simple fact that Flynn is showing the interest in me that I desire, but I’m light as a feather on my walk to work this morning.

Humming the song that was playing this morning while I showered, I move my feet a little faster. I know he’s going to show up again today, and although I know I have to ignore him like I did yesterday, today will be more difficult. My cheeks heat with the possibility of getting to sneak glances his way. I may even give in a little and bring him a cup of coffee.

Plans on how I can tease him while I’m working have me distracted. I blame Flynn’s ability to take over all my thoughts for turning the corner to work and making it halfway up the block before I notice the swarm of paparazzi. The flash of bulbs and cries of my name stop me in my tracks. I’ve been through this a million times, and not once have I ever been unsure of how to act. I don’t have security with me nor a chauffeured car to dive into to get away from them. I’m on foot, in my ill-fitting Paddy’s uniform, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like a deer caught in headlights.

My time here was supposed to be different. They weren’t supposed to find me. I’m no longer part of my parents’ world. They have bigger stories to chase after. A girl working to earn a living isn’t a story. It happens with millions every damn day.

My hands are trembling, my feet urging me to move, but I don’t know what to do as they move toward me. I have a shift I need to get to. I know how lucky I am that Sam hired me. I know I’ll struggle to find another job, just as much as I know fighting through the crowd of cameras and too personal questions, that even if I make it inside the pub, I’ll no longer have a job. Paddy’s is lowkey. Sam isn’t the type of man to use this situation to make more money. His place does well without the help of ridiculous front-page stories in crappy gossip columns.