Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Me too,” Harley spoke up. “We’ll need to see if we need to involve law enforcement.”
“Of course, of course. But what I really want to talk about is the wedding.”
“The wedding?” I frowned. “What does hate mail have to do with Hester’s wedding?”
“You can’t make the trip all alone.” Her tone was all reasonable, but her words had me groaning, even before she added, “You’re going to need a bodyguard.”
“You want me to bring a bodyguard to Hester’s wedding?” Oh, hell no.
Chapter Seven
Harley
“I do weddings all the time,” I offered. Cressida’s request seemed simple enough to me. While the cops investigating the attack hadn’t found a link to the hate against the show, a connection also couldn’t be ruled out, especially with the ongoing protests and mail. If Ambrose was in danger, Cressida was smart to want a security presence. “We can work with Duncan, select the right personnel to work the event, and provide peace of mind.”
“No.” Ambrose was glaring, but at his sister, not me. “I’m sure Harley’s firm does an excellent job, but Hester wants a small, intimate wedding.” He turned his head more toward me, his expression decidedly less hostile. “It’s not even an LA-area wedding. It’s on the Oregon coast. She’s a newly minted preschool teacher marrying an Oregon football star. College sweethearts. This is not the wedding to bring a bunch of bodyguards to.”
“No one said anything about a bunch.” Cressida’s voice was all reasonable, but I had a feeling her measured tone was grating on Ambrose’s last nerve. “I’m suggesting you simply hire one to travel with you and work the wedding weekend events.”
“I was looking forward to the drive. Alone.” Ambrose’s chin had a stubborn jut to it. Lord, I didn’t want to get into the middle of this sibling argument, but my urge to keep Ambrose safe kept me trying to introduce some measure of peace.
“You were going to drive?” I asked. I’d been having fun all day admiring the used cars on the set, trying to guess model years, and watching stunt people leap over vehicles and race through the lot.
“Ambrose prefers not to fly,” Cressida answered for him. “He was planning on doing the ridiculous fourteen-hour drive over two days on his own with only that dog, and I think that’s just too big a risk right now.”
“It does sound like a risk—” I tried to keep my tone neutral, but it didn’t much matter because they both talked over me anyway.
“Cressida. You can’t just hire a traveling companion for me. That’s outside the scope of the security company, I’m sure.”
“Actually, it’s not.” I hated needing to correct Ambrose because that got him glowering at me. “We travel all the time. Film festivals, destination weddings like this, even vacations. Job’s a job. I can split the driving with you, keep you safe like your sister wants, then work the wedding’s security needs.”
“Even if you’re good with making the trip, a bodyguard will stick out at the wedding. It’s a small guest list, and I know it’s silly, but I don’t like looking like the sort of person who needs a security detail.”
“Because you do.” Cressida wasn’t helping matters any, and I barely suppressed a groan.
“Bringing a bodyguard makes me seem like a celebrity or self-important billionaire. Hester’s always been a humble kid, not big on our family’s Hollywood status. A bodyguard would rather underscore any differences between our family and the one she’s marrying into.”
“I’m good at blending into the background.”
Ambrose was shaking his head even before I got the words out. “I wasn’t even bringing a plus one—”
“That’s it.” Cressida’s eyes lit up.
“What’s it?” Ambrose and I spoke in unison, which might have been funny under other circumstances.
“Make the bodyguard your plus one. I honestly don’t care what story you give people, but you can’t drive alone, and I have too many last-minute obligations to ride with you. Remember, you’re still coming off a concussion.”
“You seriously want me to bring a fake date to Hester’s wedding?” Ambrose’s eyes were wider than truck mirrors, and he kept petting Hercules, hand flying over the dog’s fuzzy sweater that matched the blue in Ambrose’s dress shirt.
“I seriously want you safe for Hester’s wedding. Spin it however you’d like. A date saves ego and face.”
This was where I should object. But instead, I shrugged. Whatever it took to keep Ambrose safe. Stopping to examine why I felt so strongly about his safety was probably a bad idea. “We go undercover sometimes. We’ve got a new guy. Real looker. He might be up for it if you want someone better suited to a tux than me.”
I could be pragmatic about my good points—I was built and strong, but I wasn’t Hollywood hot like Duncan or old-school sexy like Cash. If Ambrose needed flash in a date, I wasn’t gonna cut it, but I’d sure as hell find him someone who would.