Page 146 of Reluctantly Rogue

Of course she is. She’s. Supposed. To. Be. A. Queen.

I lean back in my chair, cradling my cup between my two hands.

I’ve been doing this job for ten years. I’mdamnedgood at it. But I do wonder on a weekly basis if I missed my calling to be an accountant. Or an architect.

Something where things make sense, where facts line up, where things behave the way they’resupposed to.

I swear the brilliant plan to support benevolent billionaires, and leaders who truly want to use their positions to servethe people, and influencers with platforms forgoodsounded so simple when Alfred Olsen laid it out for me.

Which is why I’m still here, taking care of Declan O’Grady and wrangling the rest of these guys.

I wasn’t Declan O’Grady’s first bodyguard. Not by a long shot. The man drove off and/or fired six before I came along.

He’s fired me three times. I just won’t leave. He needs me.

Just like Torin needs Jonah.

I’m not going to fire Jonah. Even though he’s now further complicated everything.

Nope. I’m going to fix it. Like I do everything.

Step one—Do. Not. Tell. The. Boss.

At least, not until I have a solution that will be even better than the original plan.

Because he will definitely fire Jonah. Instantly. And while I completely understand the sentiment, it won’t solve anything. It’s not like we can get Torin a new advisor/best friend/bodyguard who he’ll suddenly start listening to.

And if Jonah leaves, he’ll take Linnea with him, and we definitely need her brain and loyalty and talents.

Fuck.

I lean over and grab my bottle of amaretto, pouring even more into my cup.

I take a long drink.

Then I text Jonah back.

FYI, I do not like these kinds of texts.

Also, can you just not do anything else stupid, or let Torin do anything stupid, for the next few weeks? Please?

Define stupid.

I start to type but then realize that the list I’d have to send is way too long.

I take another drink and think.

Finally I respond:

How about this? Don’t tell anyone about you and Linnea. Just status quo. And don’t leave Cara again.

For how long?

Until I say so.

I wait for him to respond with anI understandoryes, ma’amor even afine.

After nearly two minutes I type:

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