Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Your lover?
I pull a pillow to my chest and hug it tightly.
“If only fairy tales were real,” I whisper.
I force all thoughts out of my mind of bills and bank accounts, nasty neighbors, and broken floors. Instead, I fall asleep thinking about a man with striking green eyes holding me in his arms.
Chapter 8
Jason
“Are you good with that?” Ford Landry asks, his voice filling my car as I fly down the expressway.
I flip the visor down to spare my eyes from the bright morning sun. “I mean, I don’t love it. I get her point, and I respect it. But I don’t love it.”
“At what point do we compromise?”
With Rory Brewer? Good fucking question.
I glance at the time on my dashboard and wonder how the hell things got so complicated before eight in the morning. If my life weren’t already full of situations like this, like my mother calling our security company and demanding her detail be cut in half, I’d be worried. At least they’re consistent.
“She’s not going to want to compromise,” I say, passing a pickup truck doing forty-five miles per hour in the fast lane. “I’d be a lot happier about her having one security guard if it could be Foxx.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s happy right where he is—at home with your sister.”
I roll my eyes. “What about that Erickson guy you were telling me about?”
“Give me a second.” The sound of him tapping at his keyboard comes through the speakers. “I have an interview with him tomorrow. My buddy, Cane Alexander, gave him a stellar recommendation, so I can’t imagine I’ll have a problem with him. Cane likes five people on a good day.”
“Any chance Erickson will work out of Florida?”
“Maybe. Let me talk to him tomorrow and run a background check. If we hire him, I’ll consider assigning him to your mom.”
“Good. Tell her to sit tight until we can get a plan in place.”
“Will do. Other than that, I’m good on this end. Renn did send an email last night with explicit instructions not to have Calvin on his detail.”
I shake my head, remembering my conversation with my brother last night. “Renn’s surprisingly emotional right now. It’s probably a good idea to keep him and Calvin apart.”
“Did something happen?”
“No. And I don’t want it to,” I say, chuckling.
“Me either.” He sighs. “Do you have any questions before I let you go?”
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel and take the exit toward the office. Soft classical music drifts from Ford’s office through my car speakers. His wife makes him play it to help his blood pressure—something that all his friends know, and none of us let him live down.
I’ve known Ford Landry for a decade. We served two tours together in the military before he got out and went home to Savannah. I was discharged and went to work for a private security firm, Mandla.
Ford and I kept in touch. When the government shut down Mandla after a bold rescue operation in Africa went sideways, Ford asked me to work for him. I chose to go home to Nashville and start Brewer Air instead.
Our paths crossed again when I took over the security operations for my family and our businesses. Naturally, I hired Landry Security because Ford is one of only a few people in this world I trust implicitly.
Besides Foxx, Ford may be the only one.
“No questions from me,” I say. “Let me know if Erickson is a viable candidate.”
“I will. If he doesn't pan out, I have ten or twelve interviews next week. With business booming like it is, I could hire twenty people if I could find twenty decent options.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Right?” He groans. “Okay, I gotta get busy. I have a meeting with Troy Castelli in five minutes. Talk to you later.”
“Later.”
I press a button on the steering wheel, ending the call.
My car's engine roars as I press the accelerator and overtake a minivan, passing it safely to the right. I set aside Mom’s security situation, knowing Ford has it handled. Then I click on the navigation screen before my phone connects to Brandi.
“Brewer Air, this is Brandi. How may I direct your call?” she asks.
“Hey, it’s Jason.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning. Is Chloe in the office by any chance? I’ve called her phone several times this morning, and she hasn’t answered.”
Last night was long. I couldn’t sleep for shit. I kept replaying our exchange—the strange man’s voice and Chloe’s pitch as she responded. Her grandmother telling her that she better not be talking to Thomas. The stress and exhaustion in Chloe’s voice.
It bothers me.
A lot.
I feel like I know so much about her, and I’d describe our relationship as close. Yet after last night, I realize there’s a lot I don’t know about Chloe … and I wish that weren’t true.