The Mogul And The Muscle
“Here’s how this works,” Jude said, clearly ignoring my snark. He shifted slightly in the chair, making his shirtsleeves tighten around his bulging arms.
Not that I was looking at his bulging arms. Or his thighs straining against the fabric of his slacks. That would have been totally unprofessional.
“I am going to be here while you’re working,” he continued. “Ideally, you’ll set me up at a desk outside your office or nearby so I have easy access to you, and you to me. I’ll accompany you to meetings, both on and offsite. I’ll be very unobtrusive. You’ll hardly know I’m there.”
I raised an eyebrow. It was difficult to imagine a man his size being unobtrusive, but I decided not to comment.
“I can take care of the desk situation,” Brandy said.
I nodded to her. “Please do.”
“I’ll escort you from your car into the building in the morning and back again at night. If you leave the office, I go with you. That includes evenings and weekends. If you’re going anywhere other than home, I’m going too. For the time being, at least.”
Once again, the instinct to challenge him flared hot. But challenge him on what? I could insist he let me go to meetings without him. Did he really need to stand in the conference room while I listened to R&D’s latest report or met with the accounting or finance departments? Probably not, but quibbling with him over small details would just make me look bratty. So I kept my lips pressed together.
“I also highly recommend filling your social calendar for the next couple of weeks. Find reasons to be seen. If someone is targeting you, we want them to know you’re not unprotected. It might be enough to get them to back off.”
“Wait, Cameron’s being targeted?” Brandy asked.
“No,” I said at the same time Jude said, “Possibly.”
We locked eyes but he gave me an almost imperceptible nod.
“There’s a small chance the attempted-mugging wasn’t random,” I said. “But I’m positive there’s no reason to worry.”
“She’s right, there’s no reason to worry,” Jude said. “She has me now.”
I met his eyes again. There was no cockiness in his comment. Just a statement of fact. And for some reason, I believed him.
A layer of tension I’d been denying melted from my shoulders. I still had a million things on my to-do list and the future of this company—and its thousands of employees—in my hands. But for the first time since some jackass in a hoodie had tried to grab my purse—or me—in the parking garage, I felt safe.
8
JUDE
Brandy set me up at a desk near hers, just outside Cameron’s office. When Cameron’s door was open, I could turn my head and see her. Although the threat level was on the low side, I was glad I had an easy view of her. Only because it made my job easier. Not because I liked looking at her.
I did. But I was a professional and my job had nothing to do with that thick red hair or those mile-long legs. The fact that she was gorgeous was a nice perk, nothing more.
This area of the building was spacious and open. Framed photos of aircraft in flight decorated the walls, some clearly decades old. Spencer’s other executives had large, windowed offices. Their various support staff sat at desks arranged in a neat grid.
But what could have been a stark workplace was actually quite comfortable and relaxed. Brandy’s desk had a string of chili pepper lights around the edge and a bulletin board with scribbled crayon drawings on the wall next to her. She had photos of her husband and son, and a mug with a rainbow handle held a supply of pens.
The other desks were similarly personalized. Family photos, kid art, and quirky décor seemed to be not only allowed, but encouraged. I’d noticed on my walk-through of the building yesterday that the other floors were similar.
There were the usual desks, office chairs, phones, and computer equipment. But I’d also seen an engineer in a bean bag chair, the accounting department had several vases of freshly cut flowers that looked like they’d come from someone’s garden, and among the expected aerospace-themed artwork were framed prints featuring snarky quotes and sayings.