Ethan
The door clicked shut behind Mel, and I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where she’d been standing. Her scent—something light and floral—lingered in the air. I’d noticed it when I’d taken her arm, examined the bruise that she’d been carefully hiding.
“Is it safe to come out now?” Ty’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I turned to see him peeking around the suite’s second bedroom doorway, a grin spreading across his face.
“How long have you been hiding in there?” I asked, moving back to the conference table.
He stepped fully into the room, looking way too pleased with himself. “Long enough to hear you agree to take on the job you were dead set against yesterday.” He flopped onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “What happened to ‘these people are a waste of our time’ and ‘not worth the hassle’?”
I shot him a look that had him quickly removing his boots from the furniture.
“Things changed.”
“Clearly.” He gestured toward the door Mel had just exited through. “And would that change have anything to do with a certain manager in high heels?”
“It has to do with this.” I tossed the folder of threats onto his lap. “Mel’s been intercepting these before they reach Nova. There’s more on the flash drive.”
Ty flipped through the pages, his expression growing more serious with each one. “Jesus. Some of these are pretty detailed.”
“Exactly.” I moved to my laptop, already pulling up the video call software. “Nova might not be taking this seriously, but Mel is. She’s been trying to handle it all by herself.”
“And that bruise on her arm? From the break-in?”
I nodded, not surprised he’d noticed it too. Ty might joke around, but he didn’t miss much. “Hit a serving cart in the dark. No one else even knew about it.”
“So, we’re really doing this? Taking on America’s most annoying pop star and her entourage of suck-ups?”
“We are.” I glanced at him. “You going to have a problem maintaining professionalism?”
He held up his hands. “Hey, I can be professional. I’m a consummate professional. The most professional professional who ever professionaled.”
“That’s not a word.”
“It is now.” He grinned, then sobered. “For real, though, I get it. If the threats are that serious, we’re going to keep Nova safe.”
I checked my watch. “Logan and Jace should be available. Let’s get them up to speed.”
I initiated the video call, and within moments, both men appeared on-screen. Logan was at our Colorado trainingcompound, while Jace was at his apartment in Denver, surrounded by his usual array of monitors.
“Gentlemen,” I greeted them.
“Boss.” Logan nodded. “This about the email you sent yesterday? Because I’ve already started looking at available options for Morocco.”
“Actually, there’s been a change of plan. We’re taking the Rivers job after all.”
Jace’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What happened to—and I quote—‘client unwilling to comply with basic security protocols, recommend passing’?”
“New information came to light.” I held up the folder. “Turns out Nova Rivers has been receiving some serious threats. Her sister Mel has been intercepting most of them, trying to handle everything herself.”
“The pop star’s sister is her security detail?” Logan asked incredulously.
“She’s her manager. And apparently, her protector, counselor, scheduler, and emotional support system all rolled into one.”
“That’s a lot for one person to handle,” Jace commented.
“Exactly.” I placed the folder down. “I’m sending you both the force protection survey report. Short version: the estate is a security nightmare. Inadequate cameras, weak locks, minimal protocols, unrestricted access. The main security guard is older than Jesus and evidently a family friend. We’ll need a complete overhaul.”