Page 9 of The Bodyguard

“Maybe,” Sawyer hoped.

The group pivoted toward the elevators. His gaze worked across the lobby, registering every person, their baggage and body language. He hunted for threats and searched for out-of-place minutiae, for anything like what he’d almost missed a day ago.

The elevator that serviced only their office floors opened, and Angela strode into the gilded hotel lobby.

“She doesn’t look like she has answers,” Hagan said.

“No, she doesn’t.” She wasn’t wearing Kevlar either. Sawyer studied her tight-lipped frown and the tension in her jaw. Her bright eyes didn’t hold their regular happy glimmer, and her high ponytail of dark raven hair didn’t swing with each step.

But she did look like she was trying to control every aspect of her life completely. The relentless bite of her black high heels clicked across the gold-flecked marble floor in a manner that dared anyone to get in her way.

Despite the stress, she still looked like a million bucks. He could never decide if her fashion style was buttoned-up or slyly suggestive. He’d never ask. She would knee him in the groin. They were close, but friendships had a line. Where would the line be for insisting on a bulletproof vest twenty-four hours a day? Kevlar would definitely change how she dressed.

Sawyer rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t his place to notice how she carried herself in those high heels or that skirt. They were coworkers. Friends. At times, bodyguard and protectee. Not to mention, Angela was in a long-distance relationship. Sawyer swallowed hard. Even if they didn’t have a laundry list of barriers that kept a relationship at bay, Angela was the kind of woman who only did serious, long-term relationships. That wasn’t something Sawyer was capable of anymore.

He pulled his attention from her and swept the lobby for threats again. Hagan and Liam stepped to the side as she joined them, subtly blocking Angela from the main reception area’s view. Like hell they weren’t all treating her like she was under their collective protective detail until they knew what was going on.

Sawyer raised his chin.

Hagan crossed his arms. “Where’s Boss Man?”

“That’s the question of the day.” Angela pursed her lips and then let out a long breath. “I have no idea, and it’s driving me batty.”

“Did you touch base with Parker?” Sawyer asked. Parker, Titan’s tech guru, was based in the United States and led the global tech operations. He was in constant contact with Jared.

“We spoke before the sun was up.” Angela shook her head. “No dice.”

Stress knotted at the base of Sawyer’s neck.

“Maybe Parker knows and isn’t sharing?” Hagan suggested.

“That would be a good thought,” Angela agreed, “except he called me looking for Jared. As did Brock Gamble.”

Brock served as Jared’s number-two man in charge. If the second in command of all Titan’s operations didn’t know where Boss Man was, then Sawyer’s rising stress level was appropriate.

“Well, hell.” Liam frowned. “That’s a little unnerving.”

Her frown deepened. “Just a little.”

Liam’s phone buzzed. “It’s Chelsea. I’ll let you know if she knows anything.” He stepped away to answer the call from his wife.

“Well, I’m going to head upstairs.” Hagan turned toward the elevators. “Hit me up if you hear anything.”

Sawyer rubbed a hand over his face. “Will do.”

Angela wandered toward a couch in an alcove sitting area off the side and scowled at her phone. Sawyer followed, grateful to get her out of the public’s line of sight, and sat beside her. His gaze continued to pivot for threats. She dropped her phone into her lap and, after an exasperated sigh, slumped on the couch.

Sawyer studied her. “Jared will turn up. We’ll get answers.” He pretended to relax. Or, at least, he tried. He repositioned his legs and threw an arm over the back of the couch.

“Jared’s not the only guy giving me a headache.”

He snorted. “Calling Tran Pham a headache is putting it lightly, but it will work out—”

“Not Pham.” She squeezed her eyes shut before giving him a pleading look. “Can I show you something?”

He gave up on pretending to relax. Acting wasn’t his talent, and her head was in a different place anyway. “Yeah, sure.”

“It has to do with Paul.”

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