Facade

“I really think—”

“We’ll stick with the PA story,” she said.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

“The practical realities of a PA are as such. I can’t room with you as a PA, not even a personal one. So adjoining rooms will be necessary if I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

“What about a suite with two rooms that close off?” I asked.

“Adjoining. Rooms.”

“Fine. Fuck. Man, you’re a hard-ass.”

“And you’re just an ass. Deal with it. I’ll get you a list of things I’m going to need for this trip. I don’t care how you acquire them but have them on the plane and ready to go.”

“Funny, this PA stuff comes pretty easy for you,” I said.

“I’m still packing.”

“Are you going to write me a list, email me a list, or text me a list?” I asked.

“Which one would you prefer?”

“Already asking questions? You were really cut out for this lifestyle.”

“My blade glides delicately across skin,” she said.

“Write it down,” I said.

“Fine. I’ll get the list to you in the morning.”

“And I’ll get you what you need for the trip.”

A knock came at the door, and I jumped. Though Sam didn’t look deterred at all. She got up from her chair and started for the front door, her dress billowing at her sides. She looked calm and put together as she reached for the door handle, and I shouted out at her to stop.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Shouldn’t we, you know, check to see who it is or something?”

“It’s John,” she said nonchalantly.

“Okay. One, who’s John? And two, how do you know that without looking out the window?”

“You weren’t the only one making phone calls when you slipped off to the bathroom, Mr. Steele. Tennyson is a bodyguard I work with regularly. The best there is. I trust him, so I put him on detail for the electrical crew for your company while we’re off in Vegas. And to answer your other question, I heard him coming up the steps.”

“You just ... heard him,” I said.

“He has a distinct walk.”

She threw the door open, and a tall, dark man was standing on my porch. Sam’s face automatically brightened with a smile as she clapped this John guy on the back. Her attitude changed immediately, and her demeanor softened.

Soft. Like that kiss in the closet.

“John, this is Mr. Steele. Mr. Steele, meet John Tennyson.”

“Hello, sir,” John said. “Nice to meet you.”

I reached out and shook his hand, gripping it as tightly as he gripped mine. He was posturing, that much was for sure. But why? Did he have the hots for Sam? She sure as hell lit up in his presence with her small grin and her sparkling eyes. She opened her body up to him even as she closed herself off to me.

Which was bullshit. She wanted to know all about me without me knowing about her.

“Are you going to come in or let the heat out?” I asked.

John walked inside as Sam tossed me a look.

“Sam’s told me I’ll be on electrical detail at your company in the coming days,” John said.

“Yeah. Try not to get yourself killed. It’s going around.”

“Mr. Steele,” Sam said.

“Sorry. Don’t get yourself killed, please.”

“Excuse his rudeness. He’s been drinking most of the night,” Sam said.

“And she’s kissing her clients too,” I said.

“Ah. Had to calm him down a bit?” John asked.

“You have no idea,” Sam said with a giggle.

A giggle.

A fucking soft little giggle.

The ease of their interaction churned my gut. Who the hell was this guy, and why was she bringing him around? She obviously didn’t know who was still in charge, but she was going to know by the end of the night who she worked for.

I looked up as I made my way into the kitchen. The two of them were still standing by the door, shooting the shit. Sam was close to him, closer than she ever stood to me. With the way she looked at him, one could postulate that they were together in a relationship. Fucking one another.

Maybe that was why she was so resistant to the idea of being my girlfriend.