Page 246 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
His words hit me like a blow. “Someone followed you? But...why?”
His mouth opened to respond, but before anything came out, the sound of the door opening interrupted him. I looked over my shoulder, catching sight of Matt and my father entering, twin smiles on their faces.
“Hey, little girl,” Dad said, coming over to plant a kiss on my forehead. “You’re here late.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Dad, Jack needs to—”
“We closed the deal,” Matt said, cutting me off and slapping Dad on the back. “Three months of round-the-clock security detail for a visiting diplomat. I think we just earned our Christmas bonuses.”
Dad laughed, and Jack smiled, but there were more important things to talk about. “Dad, Jack was followed after work today. He thinks—we think—that there’s something Jansen isn’t telling us.”
Jack’s eyes met mine, an unreadable expression on his face. After a moment, he spoke. “A black SUV pursued me, but I managed to lose him.”
I wanted my father to have all the information. “And Jack saw him talking about blackmail. He’s definitely hiding something.”
Dad’s smile evaporated and he took a breath. “Look, son,” he said, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I know Dexter is a bit of a snake. I can smell it on him, just like you can. But this is business, not the service. We’re not assisting civilians in need. He paid us to protect him from corporate espionage, not blackmail. I don’t give a damn what he does in his spare time.”
Jack nodded, his face blank. For some reason, looking at him made my insides hurt. I was about to respond, but Matt interrupted again. “What say we go down the street to that brewpub and knock back a couple to celebrate this new contract?”
“Sure,” Jack says, trying on a grin.
I rolled my eyes, then locked up after them as they made their way out of the door and into the parking lot. Just another example of the boys not listening to me. But that didn’t mean I was going to give up just yet.
At the pub, I cornered my father when he went to the bar to grab another round of beers. The adoption event would have to wait a little while longer. “Dad, I think there’s something going on with Jansen. You shouldn’t blow Jack’s concerns off so easily.”
Dad gave me a tolerant grin. “Okay, little girl, I hear you. Now you listen to me. Jack just got back from ten years in the service, seeing things you’ve never even thought about. Which is good, you shouldn’t think about those things. But when you’re used to finding danger around every corner, once you’re back stateside, it’s hard not to keep looking for it.”
“You think he’s overreacting?”
Dad shrugged. “Jack’s a great guy, and your brother thinks the world of him. I’m sure he’ll calm down after a few more months. Learn to relax. Until then, I’m taking his suspicions with a grain of salt.”
The bartender handed him a fresh group of bottles and he took them, heading back to the table. I sighed, leaning back against the bar and watching the table.
An earnest expression had taken up residence on Jack’s face as he listened to Matt relating the details of the deal. I realized then why he had been so hesitant to talk to me earlier. He’d thought I wouldn’t believe him that I’d assume he’d been seeing something that wasn’t there.
Suddenly his eyes meet mine and a heat rushes through me. The memory of his kiss exploded in my mind. For a moment, I’d felt him responding, before he’d broken away. Could he be thinking about it too, I wondered as he continued to look at me.
Could I ever stop thinking about it?
Or stop wanting him to do it again?
CHAPTER 7
JACK
Day Two of guarding Dexter Jansen was not an improvement. If possible, the businessman’s attitude had gotten worse. I’d have rated his mood at somewhere around ‘Toddler refusing to take a nap at naptime’ status. Except this toddler was in charge of a multimillion dollar company.
Today we were in his office, one he was trying to visit only infrequently to keep whatever corporate spies were trying to learn his routine on their toes. Or at least that was what he said. In reality, I was beginning to doubt the existence of the spies. And if they did exist, the only corporate secret they would learn was that Jansen treated his employees like shit.
He’d spent most of the ride over bitching about the luxury hotel he’d installed himself in, one I swept each day to make sure it was free of bugs and one we monitored for intruders. Jansen was staying in the best hotel in the area, and the management had been working carefully with us on security. This didn’t mean the rich prick appreciated what was being done for him. What he did care about, apparently, was that he receive fresh boxes of soap every day, along with fresh towels. God forbid he’d have to use the same piece of soap two days in a row.
Still, it would take a mountain of soap to get Jansen clean. My gut told me he was hiding something, and not something that would make him smell like daisies. The more time I spent with him, the more I realized he had contempt for everyone but himself.
It was clear in the phone call after phone call he made in his office. Jansen wasted no time berating his subordinates. If someone had made a mistake, he’d either be fired or threatened with firing, until the person on the other end of the line was breathing heavily and either near tears or about to explode in anger. I couldn’t blame them.
If someone had done well, instead of complimenting them, Jansen would admonish them, saying they could have done better if they’d only worked faster, tried harder, done more. Nothing was ever good enough, nothing met his impossible standards. Standards which he himself put no effort towards adhering to.
His office was a mess. Papers were strewn on every available surface, along with half-empty coffee cups and food refuse. Jansen must not even let people in his office to clean. It had a sickly smell, like overripe fruit, and I was surprised there were no flies buzzing around the piles of garbage.
