Page 9 of Protector

She lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “I don’t know…” Just when I think it’s all I’ll get, she speaks again. “I like working, making money, being busy, making people happy, but I don’t think I’ve found exactly what I’m meant to do yet.”

“That’s fair.” And a damn mature and self-aware thing to say.

She shakes her head like she changed her mind. “Actually, there is something…”

“What is it?”

“I’ve always loved the design side of fashion. When the opportunity is there, I’m pretty involved in my shoots, and I’ve even designed some clothes.” She shrugs and looks away.

“That’s great.”

“It’s not something I talk about much. I’ve never even shown my sketches to my mother so…”

I don’t want to get too deep too fast, so I simply say, “Based on that, it sounds like you’re in the right industry at least.”

“Yeah. I like modeling better than the acting, that’s for sure.”

“Then why are you doing a reality show?”

Her expression doesn’t look offended, more like she’s enjoying the conversation. “Well, it’s not acting, not really. It’s just cameras following me around while I’m doing my thing, and I suppose I’m sort of used to that, already.”

“So, easy money then.”

“I guess. I’ve never had to worry about money, but I’m also not the type to crave more. I want to be motivated, inspired.”

The first thing that comes to mind is that she herself, her beauty, her personality, is inspiring. She’s the type of person it feels good to be around. I guess that’s why she’s so popular. But I can’t voice any of that without sounding like a creep. “Let’s switch gears and talk about this stalker, the stuff he left. Where is it?”

Her eyes go wide, then she averts them, picks up her tea. “I don’t have it.”

“What? Why?”

As if my tone startled her, she takes a few steps away from the window. “I, uh, threw it away.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” I shout out a little too loudly, and it echoes off the high ceiling.

“I’ve always tossed or given away things people send, letters, little gifts, or else they’d pile up.”

“That could have been evidence. What about the last thing? The roses, the…underwear?”

“Gone.” She shrugs.

I pause a beat, not wanting to come down too hard on her. I get why she wouldn’t want those reminders around. “What about the electronic stuff? The emails?”

She pulls her lips tightly as if thinking. “I have the last couple. Before that, I didn’t realize it was a thing, and I deleted them.”

I let out a sigh. “Well, at least that’s something.” Though if the guy’s smart, he’s probably made sure the email couldn’t be traced back to him. “Look, you’ve got a lot to learn about how this whole process works. First—”

“Hey, don’t lecture me. Of course I don’t know anything about this stuff. Why would I? That’s what you’re here for.”

“But it’s not going to work if we don’t communicate and you don’t cooperate.”

Her lips purse on the last word and she stalks over to me, stands toe to toe with me, looks me in the eye, like I’m about to be reamed. “You’re right, Brooks.”

CHAPTERFOUR

Shay

I don’t know what came over me when I said those two words to Brooks. I’m not scared of him, but for some reason, I wanted to show him that I trust him. My reward was seeing that little spark in his eyes at my surrender.

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