Private Bodyguard (5 page)

“Expecting a call?” he asked as she took care to adjust the volume on her cell.

“Expecting? No. Hoping? Still no, but I can't ignore it.” He raised his eyebrow so she explained, “Work-related.”

“Ah, I know the feeling.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and placed it on the table, as well. With the recent changes in the job, Nikki had made it clear she wanted all guards to have their phones on at all times, even when they were off the clock.

“So, I have to ask. You didn't seem at all surprised to see me yesterday... Why?” she asked, getting the conversational ball rolling. Darling had never been a fan of silence.

Unlike the seventeen-year-old he had left behind, this Darling was all grown and all woman. Oliver couldn't deny she was beautiful—she always had been—but now there was something more as he really looked at her. The way her dark green eyes bore into his, trying to figure him out, was so fierce it almost shook his resolve to leave the past just where it was.

“My boss told me the name and I couldn't imagine it being a coincidence,” he said honestly. “Though I wasn't a hundred percent given the circumstances.”

“Ah...circumstances. You mean the trespassing accusation.”

Oliver made a gun with his hand. “Bingo.”

“Well,” she said, “given recent developments, I'd say that
accusation
is the least of everyone's worries. Wouldn't you agree?” she finished, crossing her arms over her chest. That movement meant Oliver needed to tread softly.

“We wouldn't have taken on this case if he was a bad man, Darling. I stand by what I said earlier. Just because he was there doesn't mean he did it, and I'd like to ask you to drop whatever case you might still have that involves him,” he said. And, apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. Almost instantly the color in her cheeks rose, her brows lifted and her lips thinned. Knowing a storm was brewing, Oliver made a second conversational mistake, hoping to pacify her. “For old times' sake, Darling.”

He might as well have kicked her beneath the table.

“I can't believe you're still simply rolling over for the big dogs,” she bit out, angry. “Nigel Marks is a millionaire, so that makes whatever he does justifiable? Is that why you do what you do, Oliver? Do you get some kind of thrill from protecting the rich? Did you ever stop and wonder why that's even necessary? No, you probably don't, because all you care about is pleasing the elite, just waiting for them to yell ‘jump.'”

She stood so abruptly that the booth's seat pushed back and scraped the tile. The waitress and few patrons looked over, but Darling seemed oblivious. Like them, Oliver looked at her, but in a state of awe.

“You know what?” she said. “I'm not going to sit here and be talked to like I'm still the girl you used to know.” She grabbed her purse and started to leave, pausing for a second to finish her tirade. “And Oliver, if I still had a case, I certainly wouldn't drop it ‘for old times' sake.'”

And just like that Darling Smith became the one who left.

Chapter Five

There was a reason Darling had picked the café as a place to talk with Oliver—it was only a block away from her office. He watched her through the café's front windows as she walked in an angry huff down the street, turning into the strip mall's parking lot and disappearing around back. Each step had been rigged with tension, each movement forced.

The waitress waited until Darling was out of view before coming to the table. She also didn't look so pleased with him.

He let out a long breath.

“Can I place a to-go order?” he asked, glancing back out the window.

For the first time in years, Oliver let the past wash over him, bringing in the flood of memories that pieced together the last conversation he had had with the younger Darling.

She had been wearing a white dress with daisies printed across it, a stark contrast to the tears that had streaked her cheeks.

“They're horrible, Oliver,” she had yelled. “They'll never change! They of all people have no right to tell me what I do and don't deserve. So, please, let's just leave. Let's run away together and never look back!”

“We can't.”

“Oliver, I love you,” she had said, taking his hands in hers. They had been soft and warm. “And if you love me as much as you say, we
can
make it.” There had been so much hope in her eyes, despite the tears she had shed because of her parents. Despite everything she had gone through in the past year. So much hope that Oliver could still see it clearly today.

“But, Darling,” he had whispered. “I don't want to.”

Just like that, the hope had died, and the memory of breaking Darling Smith's heart had burned itself into his mind, becoming another moment he could never forget.

It still amazed him that such a brief conversation had made such a big impact.

“Order's ready,” called the waitress, holding up a paper bag and a cardboard cup holder. Oliver pulled himself out of the hardest conversation he'd ever had and paid for the food.

Instead of climbing into his rental, he followed the same path Darling had taken until he was, yet again, at Acuity's front door. He didn't knock this time. She wouldn't have let him in if he had.

The private investigator was standing behind the lone desk in the front room, a scowl still attached to her face, when he pushed into the lobby. Her hair billowed around her head, a crown of dark blond that seemed to crackle to life as the rest of her grew angry at the sight of him. Before she could get on a verbal roll again, he held up his café spoils in surrender.

“I'm sorry,” he said, smile wiped from his face. He let his hands fall and took a step closer. “After all this time, I shouldn't have asked, and certainly shouldn't have expected, you to listen to me. It wasn't fair.” Her lips parted to talk, though he wasn't sure which emotion was trying to push through. He continued before he could find out. “Although you weren't fair, either. It's clear you've made a few assumptions about me—some I'd like to correct—and, again, I can't quite blame you for that. But the fact remains that it's been eight years since we last saw each other. Our lives have changed—we've changed with them.” He took one last step forward, testing her waters. “Give me the chance to set a few things straight, Darling.”

“You don't have to answer to me,” she replied. Her voice was low.

“You're right,” he agreed. “I don't have to, but I need to.”

Darling's expression—brows drawn together, lips thin, jaw set—slowly changed to a more pleasant mask. For the first time since he had walked in, she looked at his peace offering. She didn't smile, though he knew she could smell the delicious chocolate-covered confections, but she didn't continue to frown. If he wanted to find a safe ground with Present-Day Darling, he was going to have to come to terms with the fact that she might not warm up to him again. He would have to settle for whatever she gave him and ignore how the idea of never being in her good opinion hurt deeper than he'd like to admit.

“I'm surprised Carla still served you after the scene I caused,” she finally said. “You must have done some quick sweet talking.”

Oliver smiled. Dangerous Darling was gone. He'd get a chance to explain everything now. Well, at least the real reason behind his love and respect for the Orion Group. That explanation meant more to him than she could fathom. The desire to tell her what had happened three years ago had been replaced by the need to explain the past the moment she had stormed out of the café.

“I told her I needed to score some points with you.” He motioned to the bag in his hand. “Hopefully freshly baked chocolate donuts and a coffee with two creams and three sugars will do just that.”

Joy flashed through him as the corner of Darling's lip quirked up.

“You're lucky that my breakfast preferences aren't one of the things that have changed over the years.”

Darling walked forward, grabbed the bag and led him into her office. It was a much smaller room, but Oliver instantly liked it. Exposed brick walls, once painted white and now chipping, were decorated with certification plaques, black-and-white pictures of Mulligan scenery and a rusted sign that said Acuity across it.

“So you actually own Acuity, then?”

“I sure do. Expenses and all.” Even as she said it sarcastically, he saw the pride in it. She was comfortable behind her desk. He was sure her ease was subconscious. Darling Smith had found her place in the world after all. He wondered how her parents felt about it but knew he'd never ask her that. If he was a gaping wound, they were bottomless caverns. “I interned here when I was eighteen. Jeff didn't tell me then, but he was ready to retire. So, he started to groom me as his replacement. When I was done with all my certifications and schooling, he split. Now it's just me.” She bit into her donut and her eyes fluttered closed. “And more than occasionally the sweet, sweet Red Leaf pastry.”

“Sounds like a good setup. I'm happy for you.”

Darling flashed a small smile. “Thanks,” she said. “Now, what about you? What assumptions do you need to clear up?”

“I feel like you have the wrong impression of me.”

“I still stand by the fact that you don't need to explain yourself to me. You could be married with kids and living in the suburbs of Canada for all I know. Not that it would be bad if you did. I just want you to know that you don't owe me anything, Oliver.”

This made him laugh. He lifted his left hand to show ringless fingers.

“No marriages, children or suburban Canadian living. Just an apartment in Dallas, where Orion's located.” It might have been his imagination, but he thought she looked pleased at this information. He had already done his research on her. She wasn't and hadn't been married. Although he wasn't sure if she was attached currently. He decided against asking her that, too. “I know you aren't forcing me to explain, but I'd still like to do it.”

“All right, then, I'm listening.” She set her pastry down and laced her fingers together on the desktop. Oliver took a deep breath and began.

“I know you think I've sold out by working for a company that caters to the rich and privileged, but that's only partially true. Before I worked for Orion, I was hired as an agent at another security agency called Redstone Solutions out in California. I was excited—thrilled—with the offer because, one, I needed the money, and two, I was good at what I did. A lot of people think bodyguards just stand around and occasionally have to tackle someone, but the truth is there's a lot more to it. Strategies and problem solving, for instance. Redstone let me lead an exciting life of travel and leisure while also challenging me at every turn.” Oliver felt pride and nostalgia surge through him. Though it didn't last long. It never did. He felt his smile sag and his face harden. Darling leaned in closer. “But then Morgan Avery was killed, and everything changed.”

Darling's eyebrows rose in question, but she didn't interrupt.

“Redstone is a large company with more connections and funding than you can imagine. Its reach isn't limited to the US, either. I was based in the California branch as a part of a three-man team when Morgan Avery first came in and asked for our help. She was twenty-one and an astronomy student, utterly brilliant. She'd been competing for a spot in an elite university program in the UK that, if she made it in, would make her career. But when she was invited to the final round of the competition in England, she started getting these really nasty letters. Anonymous letters that threatened her life. So, she came to Redstone Solutions asking for a team to escort her while she traveled there. The only problem was, she didn't have enough money to come up with the minimum payment. My boss turned her away after she practically begged us to reconsider.” Oliver's jaw tightened and his fists balled. “For a week straight, she tried to convince us, and for a week we had to turn her away. The day before she was scheduled to fly out, she was found dead in a ditch near the airport—beaten and almost unrecognizable. The police were able to find the killer—a competitor—and send him to prison for life, but it didn't matter. The damage was done.” Oliver took a long pull from his coffee before continuing, finding a better place in his mind. “Morgan's death was an eye-opener for us.”

“Us?”

“Nikki, the secretary, was the person who talked to Morgan the most. After Morgan's death, she became furious and left Redstone to start her own security agency. She asked me and my then-team to join her.” He smiled. “We did, and that's Orion's origin story.”

“Secretary to boss, huh?” Darling sipped her coffee. “I like the sound of her.”

“Nikki was and is a beast in the business world. When she left, she already had a few connections willing to fund Orion. Since then, she's kept it going
and
growing with no issues.”

“She sounds like my kind of woman,” Darling replied with a smirk. Oliver laughed.

“She's something, all right.” He sobered. “We've spent the last three years offering our services to those who can't afford it but need it, specifically when traveling. Without her connections and the occasional sponsor, we'd never be able to take on our clients for basically free.”

He watched as Darling's ears seemed to perk right up.

“Basically free?”

Oliver smiled, but he was sad. “We'll never turn away another Morgan.”

“Wow,” Darling breathed. “And Nigel Marks is one of those sponsors you have to take on occasionally?” she guessed.

“Bingo. Team Delta was assigned and now, here I am.”

“Team Delta?” She snorted. “What are you, five?”

Oliver held his hands up and grinned. “Hey, don't look at me! My bud took the Orion Belt theme and went with it. He got a kick out of Orion Belt's three stars also being referenced as Delta, Epsilon and Zeta. ”

Darling's eyes widened as she understood the meaning behind the name. Her voice softened. “Morgan was in astronomy. The name Orion was chosen to honor her memory,” she said.

Oliver nodded. “It was her favorite constellation.” A warmth that was equal parts fondness and sadness pooled in his chest as he remembered Morgan. “Darling, I know I have no right to come into your life and start trying to call the shots, but I have to state this again. I don't think Nigel killed that woman, and unless he's convicted or decides he doesn't need us, he's my number-one priority while in Mulligan.” Oliver wanted to put his hand out to touch hers, to show her that she should trust him. To show that even though Nigel was his top priority, he still cared for her. Even though he shouldn't.

Darling, to his surprise, seemed to choose her next words carefully.

“I understand,” she said in almost a whisper. “But, tell me, why are you so sure that he's innocent?”

“The surprise on his face when he found out about the body,” he answered.

Darling huffed. “Surprise can be faked, Oliver. I do it every Christmas when Trudy gives me a can of peanut brittle wrapped in reindeer-decorated paper.”

“True, he could have faked the surprise,” he conceded. “But not the pain.” Oliver replayed the moment when he'd watched as the cops had told the wealthy man about the body. He didn't need to hear the man's response to know it had caught him completely by surprise...and hurt him.

Darling hesitated, brows pulling together, but she didn't have time to respond. Her phone blared to life, a cute jingle that felt out of place within the conversation. She let out a long sigh as she read the ID.

“Excuse me a second,” she said, standing.

“No problem.”

Oliver was able to drink the rest of his neglected coffee, pairing it with one of Darling's chocolate-covered circles of delicious sin, before the private investigator came back. The look on her face made him stand.

“What's wrong?”

Darling bit her lip. “Do you want a list or a long-winded sentence?” It was a less-than-halfhearted attempt to lighten whatever mood had erupted around her. Oliver answered with an equal lack of mirth.

“List.”

“One, the medical examiner believes our Jane Doe was killed yesterday morning,” she ticked off. “Two, that puts Nigel in the clear since he was apparently eating breakfast with your team while you were bailing me out.” Oliver wanted to feel relief at her words—that he had been right about Nigel's innocence—but Darling's grim expression had every part of him on guard. “Three, they haven't been able to identify the woman yet.” There was a hesitation after the words left her mouth.

“Couldn't Nigel identify her? If he met with her he had to
know
her.”

She held up four fingers. “Four, Nigel is denying that he was ever even at the hotel, let alone in Mulligan, last night. No one has stepped forward to prove otherwise, and it's Nigel's word against Dan's. There are no security cameras at the hotel, either. None that work properly, at least.”