Page 12 of Bishop's Queen

“According to some of the cops, not technically, I don’t.” She smiled weakly. “I have an overly eager fan or online hater.”

“The FBI is better equipped to handle your situation, especially given the jurisdiction hopping. What do your haters do?”

“Down vote, report, troll, nastygram, comment stuff that is pretty shitty, pardon my language.”

He gave her a look, and she guessed that her apology wasn’t needed. Jared placed his elbows on the table. “I perused your Eco-Ella website on the way over here. You’re no angel.”

“Well, thank you.” She couldn’t tell if that impressed him or pissed him off. “It’s a talent.”

He doubled down on his glare, which she was toughening up to, but it still made her shake. “You’re a hot-button, viral-spewing, ratings-driven dream. You need to be more cognizant of your situation.”

“Iam.” And where was Tara when someone said something like that? She would have an orgasm over his compliment.

Jared bumped his fist on the table. “And that brings us to the end of this conversation. You need to work with us. At least until this situation wraps.”

“I don’t understand. I’m not an organization or whatever you protect.”

“It’s simple. Law enforcement will get your stalker. We will keep you safe until that point.”

“Like… how?” Images of her in beach chic, surrounded by masked men straight out of an action movie, sprang to mind. If calling 9-1-1 made Jay yell at her, this would give him an aneurysm.

“You need a security detail.”

Wait, what?“Like a bodyguard.”

He gave a curt nod.

“I’m not really at that point in life.” Nor would she ever be. That was for movie stars and politicians. Her stalker was absolutely crazy, but he was also lazy. He liked to take his time. He only struck on weekends and the occasional workday. Granted, he was scary. But he wasn’t consistent, and the threats weren’t daily. This was nothing like when she went into actual danger zones to try to stop illegal hunters or jungle harvesters. In those cases, round-the-clock security would’ve been smart, but she had Jay, and all had worked out fine.

“You need Titan.”

She needed Titan? Maybe.

“Miss Leighton?”

“I’m not sure what to do.”

“Wrong.” Jared took on a surprisingly father-like protective tone. “You were smart enough to have this conversation with me. You know the answer.”

She stared over his shoulder at the door.

“It’s simple.”He pulled his phone off his hip and typed away. “Bullet points have now been emailed to you. That’s the gist of the services we’ll provide. Basically, we’ll keep you alive so you can protect your precious oxygen and watch out for sea turtles or whatever. I included an attachment that boils down the bullshit: I get you; you get me. If you want Titan, you’ve got us.”

“It’s everyone’s oxygen.”

“More or less, I think you’ll realize we’re on the same page.” He slapped the table and walked out of the room. “Have a good night, Miss Leighton.”

Drained, Ella leaned back in the office chair. Honestly, would it be so bad to have someone hold her hand and walk her through the process of convincing the FBI she had a serious threat? Her parents trusted Titan.

Rocco, the man who’d been with Jay, knocked on the doorframe. “Your ex skedaddled. Here’s your purse. Boss man says check your email, and we’ll get you to your car.”

She took the handmade purse from him. “Thanks.”

He gave a curt chin lift as a good-bye. All in all, they were a little cold, but that was how a private security firm should be, right? They should be tough and run like a machine… with guns.Machine guns.Her stomach turned. Okay, maybe that was a bit much.

Ella took out her phone and read the email, and it said exactly what Jared had detailed. Then she opened the attachment as directed, not wanting to misstep on his orders already. Failing as a client seemed as though it was a distinct possibility, and—

Whoa.

A picture appeared on her screen. Jared Westin stood with a beautiful woman snuggled under his arm and a grade-school-age kid leaning over what had to be a newborn in their arms. An English bulldog curled next to the family on the couch.

He had a family. Kids. Ababy. A dog. The works. The guy understood the need for oxygen in the future.

Ella let the phone rest in her lap. Never had she realized how badly she made assumptions before. Shaking the shocked bits from her head, she typed a quick response and read it back before she hit send:

I get you. You get me. I need help. Titan is hired.

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