Page 102 of The Bodyguard

“Look—” Did he look as though he needed a massage? “I’m waiting for someone.”

The hotel lobby doors whooshed open. She took a step back. By the look on her face, Brock and whomever else he’d brought with him had arrived.

She skedaddled. Brock’s all-business scowl matched those of the two men following close behind. They weren’t from Sawyer’s team, but they were Titan. That was all that mattered.

Angela’s hotel room was as clean and organized as it could be after Sawyer had made a huge mess in his effort to protect her from unknown, nonexistent threats. She smelled like grape cola and felt almost as sticky. With her earbuds in and Amanda on the phone, Angela didn’t know what more she could do to see herself busy. There were only so many times she could look at herself in the mirror or rehash the tale of Mylene’s house of hell to Amanda. “I feel sick.”

“I can’t imagine,” Amanda repeated.

“Yeah, you can. How are you feeling these days?”

Amanda snorted. “Better than Chelsea.”

“You two will be through the worst of it soon.” Angela didn’t like to keep her girlfriends at arm’s length from her recent drama, but with two pregnant best friends, she didn’t want tobother them when they were both operating on ginger ale and saltine crackers. Then again, she needed to share and hadn’t been able to connect with Jane. “You know what? Sawyer’s ability to compartmentalize is borderline scary.”

Amanda chortled. “Why’s that?”

“Well, he’s all but locked me in a tower like I’m Rapunzel.” Though this Disney Princess looked more like Humpty Dumpty crossed with the Tin Man fromThe Wizard of Oz.

“Bad example. The witch gets in, doesn’t she?” Amanda asked.

Angela ignored her. “While he’s downstairs, more or less unaffected.” And not wearing a homemade, semi-bulletproof vest.

“I doubt that.”

“Well, I’m stuck in my hotel room while he waits for Brock in the lobby.”

“He doesn’t want you in public. He has a reason to be overprotective. It’s his job.”

Angela looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. “He might be going overboard at the moment.”

“Why’s that?”

Would Angela give away her relationship with Sawyer if she explained the list of rules he’d put in place when leaving her alone for under fifteen minutes? Not to mention how he’d duct-taped silverware to flattened soda cans, sandwiched them between commercial-kitchen cookie sheets, and called the result her makeshift chainmail suit.

“Sawyer cares for you,” Amanda offered carefully.

Angela’s cheeks flushed. “He’s got a good heart. That’s for sure.”

“Have you ever thought about seeing him outside of work?”

“Seeing him?”

“Yes, Angela,” Amanda said as though rolling her eyes. “As in dating.Seeing himoutside of work.”

Flames erupted at the back of her neck. “There is no such thing as outside of work. We live and breathe and work together around the clock.”

“Hagan and I manage…”

Angela could not go there. She couldn’t share how deeply she wanted more from Sawyer and wouldn’t betray his trust. They had no future other than as co-workers and friends, and if Angela imagined the possibilities too many more times, she would have to walk away from her life at Titan.

A knot in her throat ached. Angela cleared it and changed the subject. “Do you think they killed Mylene?”

“Hm,” Amanda offered, noting the abrupt change to the conversation with a knowing tone. “I don’t know.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’d stripped her personal effects and wiped the place down.”

“That’s what you said.” Amanda sounded as if she knew precisely why Angela didn’t want to discuss Sawyer.

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