Page 57 of Passenger Princess

"I get that, but?—"

"Where were you?"

I snap. "If you would let me fucking answer, I could tell you everything."

Finally, silence rolls through the line, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before explaining.

"Yesterday, before the meet and greet, Regina insisted I take one of the other contestants to their meet and greet because, in her opinion,there would be sufficient security at the hotel ballroom where Ava was. She insisted I was not on assignment forAvabut for the Miss Americana organization."

A low curse comes through the line, which I take as a good sign I'm not totally screwed before I continue.

"Ava wants to make as little waves as she can, so she asked me to go. Thankfully, the other event ended quickly, or there could have been a real issue: I'd barely just walked in before the man assaulted Ms. Bordeaux. If I hadn't grabbed him…" My voice trails off, thinking about the force in his arm and how he was more than willing to let that punch land. "I swear, I was under the impression she'd be safe. That's how it was explained to me, and I didn't feel I was given an option."

"Well, she wasn't safe," he snaps.

"Yeah, I get that, but I?—"

"And then she ran her mouth to the press," he says, and my back goes straight.

Last night, Ava told me Regina texted her to ask her torefrain from speaking with the press off-handedly in the future to protect the image of the Miss Americana organization,not even an,are you okay?text to preface it. It made my hands ball up into fists, and that feeling is even stronger now with Greg spewing his bullshit.

"Your job is to keep that chick in line."

My jaw tightens.

"My job is to keep her safe."

"Regina and the Miss Americana organization are tired of her bullshit. She doesn't want to make waves? That's all she fucking does. Keep her shit in line, Jaime."

I take a deep breath, running a hand over my face and nodding before speaking, remembering he can't hear me. "Got it."

"Remember what's on the line," he reminds me as if I could fucking forget his not-so-subtle threats. But for the first time, I wonder if it's worth it, if sticking this out for three more years in complete misery is worth it.

"Yeah, Greg. I got it."

Then the line goes dead.

Motherfucker.

I take a minute or two to control my breathing, to get my shit in check before my phone rings in my hand, a familiar name on the screen.

"Yeah," I say in greeting.

"You’re up early," Hank says. "Anything to do with what happened yesterday?" He's laughing out the words like this is some kind of funny joke.

"You mean my assignment getting assaulted after the pageant runner insisted I essentially run some pointless errand with another contestant? Yeah, I'm up because of that."

That takes the humor right out of his words.

"What happened? Where were you?" he asks, not with the same accusation Greg laid down, but in a confused way, like he knows it wouldn't happen on my watch.

I fill him in, leaving out the ongoing threat of getting fired and losing my benefits. I don't need him stressed about that. "I swear to God, Hank, if I had known…" My voice trails off, my mind forever stuck on thewhat-ifs.

"I trust you, kid. Just happy she didn't get hurt."

I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face. "I'm toeing the line to keep the organization happy, as well as keephersafe. And I'm failing. I don't know how to handle this." I've never had an assignment like Ava, and I mean that in so many ways.

One who is so fucking mouthy.

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