For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection) (2 page)

“That’s bullshit. You’re twenty-five and have a master’s in
business. More than any of those stiffs can say. You just gotta let them see
what you can do.”

She nodded. “Thanks, Alicia.” Charlize stepped forward and
gave her cousin a tight squeeze.

Alicia returned her embrace.

“I’m sorry I squealed down your gym.”

Alicia laughed softly. “Just don’t make it a habit.”

“You know if you need anything—like funding for a little
wanker-proof equipment—you can just ask me?”

Alicia drew back and gave Charlize an exaggerated frown. “No
way. I wouldn’t be able to pay you back without upping membership fees and you
know I won’t do that.”

“You wouldn’t have to. Consider it an exchange for a free
lifetime membership.”

“Thanks but I still couldn’t. Besides, you think I don’t
know what you’re doing already? Crossing town to come to this place when you
could go to La Formes and get spritzed with eau de toilette in the bathrooms
and have massages between classes.” Alicia scrunched one eye and peered at
Charlize. “On second thought, maybe you should go there. I think you could use
the massage.”

“I don’t think they do the kind of massage I’m in need of.”
Charlize gave a mocking shrug.

Alicia shook her head and laughed. “Oh I know. Just have
another ‘private lesson’ with Connor. That ought to do it.”

“Shush.” Charlize gave Alicia a gentle push. “I better go
before those stiffs think I’m a flake.”

“Before you do, Mom wants to know if you’re coming to her
birthday party on Sunday.”

Charlize froze, a raw wound re-opening in her chest. “I take
it Joyce will be there?”

“Yeah she’s our cousin too.” Alicia came closer again and
rested her hands on the tops of Charlize’s arms. “You’re going to have to
forgive her eventually you know.”

The ripped-open sensation intensified. “It’s not about
forgiveness—it’s about being able to live with it.”

“Oh, Charlize…” Alicia whispered, the sharp angles of her
features softening.

“I really need to get going. I have a busy day.”

Alicia nodded and dropped her hands. “Look after yourself,
Cuz.”

Charlize smiled. She’d try—if there was time.

Freaking fantastic. Charlize thumped her head once, then
twice on the steering wheel. When it rained, it rained piles of steaming shit.
Another picket line. Workers protesting impending mass job cuts and loss of
benefits. Charlize hit her turn signal and veered left away from the crowd. She
wouldn’t be able to park in her usual place, would have to find a space in the
rear lot. Her father would die if he ever knew what had been done to his
legacy.

At least she could be grateful for one thing—he’d never have
to know. Dad had built a company based on loyalty, people and family. Her uncle
had turned it into one massive ego stroke. Cutting costs by sacking frontline
workers and pulling benefits, all while padding executive bonuses. She pulled
into the car park, the polished wheels of her Mercedes kicking up a cloud of
dust in the crushed-rock driveway.

She eased her car into a free space and cut the ignition.
Charlize pushed a pair of glasses up her nose and pulled on her suit jacket,
doing up the single button under her bust. Morning chill still hung in Seattle’s
early summer air. Her stilettos wobbled on the rocks but she maintained brisk
strides to the pavement. Rounding the building, she faltered as the chants of
the workers jolted through the air.

Charlize sped up to join a group of women walking toward the
entrance. Hopefully the crowd wouldn’t notice her. With thirty days until the
first of the job cuts came into effect, the picketers became more boisterous by
the day. They might not know it yet but she was not their enemy. She’d fix
this, a few more weeks and she’d have things on a new path.

If she could pull off her plan.

At the entrance the workers jeered, shaking signs. People
entering were forced to walk single file toward the large glass doors. Two
security guards struggled with the crowd. Where the hell was the rest of the
security detail? Was this all they’d allocated?

For the past several weeks striking staff from across
Halifax Communications had turned up daily. Today they’d gone all out—at least
a hundred workers filled the street. And more strikers meant more work not
getting done, more contractors to be hired to cover them and more money being
lost. At least she’d have the first step achieved today.

A few feet from the entrance someone called her name. The
crowd roared but she kept her head up, her pace steady. She reached the doors
and her muscles relaxed. A sharp force impacted the back of her skull. Pain
radiated into her brain and she clutched the back of her head, stumbling
inside.

In the foyer she lowered her hand in front of her face.
Sticky red blood streaked her palm.

“Are you all right?”

She glanced up at Jenny, the front desk receptionist. “I
think so. Get Bob down here please.”

Things would change, starting today.

* * * * *

Charlize held the cold pack the first aid officer had
demanded she keep applied “for no less then fifteen minutes” against the back
of her skull. “Two security guards, Bob? That’s all we have for two hundred
strikers?”

Bob adjusted his tie and sighed. “I agree with you
completely but you know how Frank has been about hiring new staff at the
moment.”

“Then he should have gone to a security firm. Honestly
security is a joke. My pass fails half the time.” She glanced out the window,
watching two girls from accounting struggle to get into the building. “I wish I
could go out there and tell them it’s going to be all right and they can all go
back to their jobs. I’ll do exactly that in a few weeks, I just have to get
through the next several meetings.” She glanced over her shoulder. “What if it’d
been someone else? What if they’d hit someone else and they’d been really hurt?”

“I’ll have someone here as soon as possible to reevaluate
security.” Bob stepped forward and placed his hand on Charlize’s shoulder. “Don’t
give yourself such a hard time. You’ve only been in charge three months. There’s
no magic wand.”

She placed her free hand over his wrinkled one and gave him
a tight smile. Thank god for Bob. He’d been her dad’s best friend and the only
one who didn’t see her as a joke. As president, he’d been a rock since her
impromptu appointment as CEO after her uncle’s heart attack. “Thanks, Bob. Now
I need to get ready for the meeting.” She released his hand and walked toward
the elevators then paused. “I want to see someone in my office A.S.A.P to
discuss security.”

Bob waved. “I’ll get the best.”

Charlize smiled at him then took the elevator to the top
floor. She collected herself in the bathroom and fixed her hair before heading
to her office. Her personal assistant didn’t glance up when she walked past.
Charlize tossed the cold pack onto her desk then tugged off her jacket and hung
it over the back of her chair. She frowned. Her glass desk sat in the center of
the office—pristine as usual but missing something. She glanced around. Where
were the files she’d been promised? There weren’t many out-of-sight places to
put them in the spartan space. A low couch ran along one wall with a glass
coffee table in front and a neat bookshelf stood against the back wall.

She wandered from her office to the reception area. Her PA
Lia sat behind a desk, bobbing her head to music coming from the earphones
sticking out of her ears.

“Lia,” Charlize called.

Lia’s head continued bobbing and her blonde curls bounced
around her shoulders. Charlize sighed. Lia really was a shitty personal
assistant. Like freaking hopeless. She was part of the problem with Halifax
since Charlize’s dad had been forced to retire two years ago. This was the only
kind of role for women at Halifax Communications and this was the only type of
woman they hired—perky and pretty and on display. Her uncle had turned the
entire company into a self-indulgent boys’ club.

“Lia.”

Lia began to hum out of tune, flicking through files on her
computer screen. Her painted nails tapped loudly on the keys. Charlize knocked
on top of the desk. She should have fired Lia a month ago when she’d screwed up
the major report she’d been given to scan—just scan.

But how could you fire someone who was completely sweet?

Charlize leaned closer and tugged an earphone from Lia’s
ear. “Hi.”

Lia looked up and beamed—beamed as if it was the best day in
the whole world. Just as she did every morning. “Charlize, what can I do for
you, sugar?”

“Hi, Lia, do you know where the files from accounting are?”

Lia glanced around and pulled a yellow sticky tab off her
desk. “Umm, they said they’d have them for you next week.”

“Next week? They promised me I’d have them today. Oh, Lia, I
told you I wanted this followed up first thing.” Charlize rubbed her temples.
How was she supposed to do her job if everyone kept screwing with her? She
needed those damn files months ago.

Lia blinked her huge blue eyes. “Sorry, Charlize, I did. I
called and they said…”

“It’s all right. I’m going to go down there myself, see what
they have to say.” Charlize turned to leave.

“Sorry…” Lia called.

Charlize stalked down the narrow white hall to accounting
and directly to the corner office. It was empty. Great, the chief financial
officer was conveniently out. She strode back out and tried the room next door.
Gregory, the senior financial supervising manager, sat behind a desk almost as
big as hers, sliding his finger along his Smartphone. She wasn’t completely
sure what a senior financial supervising officer actually did, but she guessed
it wasn’t playing apps. She cleared her throat.

Gregory glanced up, slowly, running his beady gaze from her
leather stilettos to the skirt that stopped at her knees, then up to her
throat. She clenched her jaw. Perhaps she should’ve worn slacks but then the
stylist she’d hired assured her that with her figure the right skirt would
actually be better than hip-hugging pants.

She resisted the compulsion to cross her arms over her chest
and hide the fact that yes…she was most definitely a woman. But she was the
woman in charge so she tapped her foot instead. “I’m looking for Frank. Is he
here?”

“No he’s in meetings all morning.”

She studied Gregory’s round face.
Meetings
.
Really
?
Because she hadn’t seen any bookings before the executive meeting. Unease swept
over her. She already knew Frank was the captain of the get-the-girl-out
committee, and Gregory his co-captain. Secret meetings did not sound like
anything good for her. She had to watch these two or she’d end up leaving her
position Caesar-style. “So who is in charge of the salary reports that were
supposed to be on my desk this morning?”

Gregory set his phone down. “I looked over the last reports
provided and decided you don’t actually need them. There are several overviews—”

“You what?” Charlize stepped closer to the desk, close
enough to look right down on the top of Gregory’s receding hairline. Something
twitched in her neck and her lungs were back to feeling half-capacity. She
slowed her breaths down. Throwing a hissy fit in the office would only help
their case. No doubt they wanted her to lose her cool. “You decided that the
CEO didn’t need the documents promised to her?”

“There was no need for them for what you’re looking into.”
Gregory smirked.

Her neck twitched again. What was it with smirking assholes
this morning? Her lips tightened over her teeth. “What would you know about
what I’m looking into, Gregory?” She straightened and smoothed a hand over
imaginary stray hairs. “I want the breakdown of salaries by department on my
desk before the executive meeting—you have exactly an hour and a half.”

Gregory developed a blotchy flush. “There’s not time.”

“Then make time.” Charlize turned toward the door but then
paused. “Don’t test me again,” she said and stepped out.

She followed the corridor back to her office. Her pulse didn’t
slow down, it sped up. She was screwed. No chance of changing anything working
this way. She walked straight past Lia, who stood when she saw Charlize, but
she waved off her personal assistant’s inquiring look. She needed some space,
needed to start thinking about how she was going to lay the foundation of a
plan she had no evidence to support.

Because no information had been provided to her promptly or
fully since she’d arrived.

She shoved open the door to her office. Bob stood inside,
talking to the front side of a broad, suit-clad body. A tall, suit-clad body
that filled out every corner of the fabric with wide, wide shoulders that
tapered to narrow hips.

Must
be the security company
.

She stepped into the office and approached the pair. Rich,
spicy cologne entered her lungs with the same achy satisfaction as inhaling
from a glass of whiskey. She stepped closer, ready to take another hit. He
turned.

Fucking
caveman
!

Charlize shrieked. Actually shrieked like a little girl,
dammit. She covered her mouth briefly then dropped her hand and placed it on
her hip. He’d been hot in his shorts but in a suit he was off the planet. Damn
her eyes, they drank in every inch of him—no subtlety possible, they gorged,
feasted on him. The snug gray jacket hung open above a starched blue shirt. Of
course he wouldn’t wear a tie—instead his top two buttons hung open, drawing
her gaze to that golden skin.

Her lips opened. A fine patch of dark hair dipped below the
button of his shirt. Her gaze stuck there, her mind filling in the gaps. The
way that patch would form a trail between his pecs, down his belly toward his—

“Charlize?” Bob asked.

She coughed and glanced up, looking straight past the
caveman to Bob. “Sorry, Bob, I forgot I was expecting you.”

“Charlize, may I present Mr. Connor Crowe, of Crowe
Security.”

He moved in her peripheral vision. She forced herself to
look at him as if all her blood wasn’t coursing straight to her extremities—and
other more sensitive places.

His gray-flecked, dark-blue eyes met hers, captured hers,
made her want to either disappear or run toward them. She wasn’t sure which. He
smiled, breaking the spell of his gaze. Cocky caveman grin would do that.

“Actually we’ve met.” Connor reached forward and clasped her
hand in a mock-professional handshake. Mock, because when his fingers closed
around hers he showed her the strength of his grip—showed her with
restraint—then rubbed the skin on the back of her hand with his thumb.

She tugged her fingers away. “Let’s get to business shall
we? My schedule is tight.”

Tight. She said the word and all Connor could think was
tight
.
Yeah she’d be exquisitely tight wrapped around his—

Balls
,
what
am
I
doing
?

She’d walked in, rendering him as pitiful as she had that
morning. Didn’t help she’d done fem-bot professional for work. A white shirt
tucked into a skirt that narrowed to the knee then flared out with a hem.
Geometric, just like the wide collar of her shirt that did nothing to hide the
sweet, juicy perfection of her incredible tits. She’d completed her corporate
armor with a pair of steel-framed glasses better suited for use as a murder
weapon.

He wanted to tear her designer chainmail right off. See if
she was hard or soft underneath.

“Well I’ve given Connor the overview. I’ll leave you two to
it,” Bob said.

Connor grunted some kind of assent but Charlize gaped, hand
half-raised as if Bob had just left her alone at Grandma’s with the wolf.

The door closed and her gaze snapped to his and those
golden-amber eyes of hers spat at him again.

“Get a good enough look? I told you I’m busy.”

He smiled. He hadn’t even begun to get his fill. “Sure, just
give me what you owe me and it’s all business, kitten.”