Page 9 of Bishop

He doesn’t. He simply stands there, scowling with cold sterility. “I didn’t take you for the dramatic type.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning—you called Remy this morning with your panties in a bunch over your safety. Now, suddenly, it doesn’t matter? Was it all a ploy for attention?”

No, it was a major mistake.

I’d been in the throes of a panic attack. It isn’t the first time I’ve slipped, but it will be the last. My position doesn’t allow for weakness.

“Remy didn’t tell you I’m a drama queen?” I bat my lashes. “I guess he took the opportunity to get rid of you while he had an excuse.”

Bishop straightens, granting me a few extra inches of space.

“I know it’s hard to understand with your low IQ,” I drawl, “but I don’t want you here. All you’re doing—”

“Is there a problem?” a familiar voice asks.

I battle against the instinct to snap rigid and turn to Gordon and his men. “Not at all.”

“Is this a friend of yours?” Gordon eyes Bishop with disinterest while I hope to hell the asshole keeps his mouth shut.

“No.” I give an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t watching where I was going when I left the bathroom. We stumbled into each other.”

“I don’t blame him.” Gordon offers me a hand. “If I weren’t about to take you upstairs, I’d be accidentally bumping into you myself.”

Bishop stiffens. Every inch on the unfathomably rigid man hardens, including his eyes.

“You’re incorrigible.” I move around him to take Gordon’s hand.

“My dear, you’re going to have a far more explicit descriptor in the near future.”

My pulse stutters. I tell myself it’s an effect of the cocaine. I make myself believe it as Gordon leads me toward the elevators.

Bishop’s gaze stalks the back of my neck as I walk away. I can sense his predatory intent. Can feel his anger.

“Ma’am,” Bishop calls out.

I glance over my shoulder, not stopping my progression across the lobby. But the man standing behind me isn’t the same as the one who grabbed me minutes earlier. This version of Bishop is suave. His smirk arrogant. His ocean eyes playful. It’s as if he’s mimicking me. Playing his own role.

“It was a pleasure bumping into you.” He winks and casually slides his hands into his pockets. “I plan on doing it again real soon.”

3

ABRI

I measure my breathing as I’m led into the elevator, the threat of Bishop’s interference triggering more of my apprehension.

This is usually when the protection detail call it a night. But Finch and Boomer seem at home as the doors close us into the tight space, their thoughts unreadable behind expressionless faces.

Nobody speaks as we ascend, the elevator stopping at level eighteen.

“Room 1803, my dear.” Gordon’s hand stalks the curve of my back, the gentle pressure leading me into the hall and to the left. “I have to admit I’m rather excited about the continuation of our meeting. It’s been a while since I’ve shared the company of such a beautiful young woman.”

“I’m flattered,” I coo.

“There’s no need for lies.” He chuckles. “I’m well aware I’m far too old for someone your age. You’re younger than my daughter. But I’ll take advantage while I can.”

There’s no shame in his blatant moralistic disregard.

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