Protecting the Heiress. Martha KennersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
team is available, so if we’re taking the job, we’re ready to go.”
“That’s great. Let’s move forward.” Francine shot Meeks another look that challenged him to say anything.
He didn’t.
“Now, I know Daniel and his team are some of the best guys we have, but I promised Mr. Morgan that I’d stay close to things, so I’m taking the lead on this one.”
“Hell, no!” Meeks declared, slamming both hands of the table.
Everyone froze and stared at him. “Excuse me?” Francine said, her eyebrows standing at attention.
“How many times do you need to be shot to get it through that beautiful stubborn head of yours that—”
“That what?” she asked, thrusting her chin forward. “We’re not kids that need your protection anymore. You do know that, right?”
Before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the conference room door just before Kelly flung it open.
“Excuse me, Mr. Morgan and Tiffany...the Tiffany...just arrived,” she said in an excited voice.
“Looks like our young intern is starstruck...and a little fickle, too,” Robert said, laughing from behind his sunglasses.
“Robert,” Mary scolded, hitting his arm again.
“They’re not supposed to be here for another hour,” Francine protested, glaring at her sister. “You forgot to have Paul reschedule the appointment, didn’t you?”
“May...be,” she said, giving her sister a sheepish look that a little kid would give when they knew they’d done something wrong. “Look, there was a lot going on with planning the wedding and all.”
“It was Paul’s wedding, not yours.” Francine reminded.
Robert smiled at Farrah.
“I...I mean, he’s basically the brother we never had, and he needed my help. We paid for it,” Farrah declared.
“Again...still not your wedding.”
Farrah laughed.
“They sent them up from the lobby, so I put them in the VIP lounge,” Kelly said.
Tiffany Tanner was the current big thing in entertainment—a young starlet whose most recent movie had made millions within hours of its opening. She was beautiful, rich and a household name, which made her need for a bodyguard a no-brainer. What was strange was her immediate need for a complete security overhaul.
“Please show our guests to the conference room next to my office,” Francine said. “Thanks, Kelly.”
After Kelly closed the door behind her, Francine focused on Meeks. “We are taking this case. The board agreed to this trial period for celebrity personal protection and it’s my job to select which celebrity we’ll be working with. We’re just fortunate that Tiffany was looking for a new agency. Daniel’s team will be assigned, and Farrah and I will be taking the lead. Any questions?” She gave him no time to respond. “Good!”
Francine stood, collected her things and said to her sister, “Shall we?” She gave Meeks a parting nod before she swept out of the room.
“Right behind you, sis,” Farrah said. She looked at Meeks, smiled and said, “I guess she told you.”
“One of you might want to change your hairstyle or something so the client will be able to tell you apart,” Meeks said before they cleared the table.
Farrah unbound her hair, bowed her head and shook out her long curls. She rose up, fluffed her hair with her fingers and smiled.
Robert lowered his sunglasses and said, “Damn!”
Farrah laughed, winked at Robert and left the room.
Damn, man, you sound like a girl! Meeks chided himself for the hair comment.
He remained at the conference table, fuming at the ridiculousness of it all. He was reluctant to contradict Cine, as his earlier outburst had surprised everyone—including himself. Was the woman trying to get herself killed?
It was bad enough that that bastard Raymond Daniels—a former enemy who blamed Francine for his arrest—came gunning for her even when he was out on bond. Too bad the cops got to him and put him back in jail before I got ahold of him. Does she have to keep putting herself in dangerous situations? Meeks thought as he picked up his tablet and phone.
When the board approved the expansion of the personal protection division to include celebrities, Meeks had tried to keep an open mind. However, the clients they assisted other agencies with only confirmed his worst fears, and Meeks was determined to change the board’s mind. Meeks was already having problems with the personal protection division since Francine insisted on continuing her fieldwork; adding celebrity to that mix only enhanced his resolve to eliminate the line completely.
While personal protection for celebrities had the potential to become an extremely profitable piece of business, it brought a lot of unnecessary chaos—unwanted publicity, uncooperative clients and questionable situations—chaos Meeks felt that their already extremely profitable agency could do without. However, Francine’s desire and ability to expand that line of business, ultimately increasing their profits expediently in a short period of time, had made that goal a lot more difficult. Now keeping Francine out of harm’s way was his new priority. If he again allowed Mr. Blake’s daughter to be seriously injured—or even worse—on his watch, Meeks would never forgive himself.
“Well, I guess that means the meeting’s adjourned,” Robert proclaimed as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood.
Meeks followed Robert out the door when Mary said, “Not so fast, you two.”
Both men stopped where they stood and gave her their undivided attention.
Mary Walker had worked for the company for over twenty-five years, but she had been a close friend to the Blakes even longer. She had been their father’s assistant almost from the beginning, and her eldest daughter had even been the family’s go-to babysitter for the triplets. Mary was promoted to office manager right after Meeks had joined the firm, taking his father’s position upon his death, and had been like a second mother to him—to all of the staff, in fact.
She was small in stature, but her quiet strength and no-nonsense attitude made her an unstoppable force. When Mary spoke, Meeks listened.
Mary tossed her salt-and-pepper hair from her shoulders, stood to her full five-foot height and placed her hands on her hips. “Francine was right. I know it’s hard to believe, but the Blake women are strong and smart and can handle themselves,” she pointed out. “You don’t need to treat them like fragile dolls that need your constant supervision and protection. Your day of acting as their quasi bodyguard is over.”
Meeks smiled and raised his hands with palms facing Mary, a sign of surrender. “Mary, I was only trying to—”
“I know what you were doing. You’ve been doing it for years and you need to find another way to do it. Try the direct approach,” she advised, giving him a wide smile.
Mary was in her sixties, but with her caramel-colored skin still smooth and free of wrinkles, she looked twenty years younger and beautiful as ever. She picked up her coffee cup and files and left the men staring after her as she exited the conference room.
Meeks headed to his office without making eye contact with anyone he passed. His robotic movements, deep frown and tight jaw sent a clear message: Leave me the hell alone. He walked into his office and slammed the door behind him, but before he could even make it around his desk, his door opened, and there Robert stood.
“What?”