Page 42 of His Ruthless Match
Jareth nodded. “Got it.”
As we approached Genevieve’s door, I nodded to the security guy stationed outside. “Hello, Eva,” he said. His eyes narrowed when he saw Jareth. “Who’s this?”
“This is Jareth,” I said quickly. “He’s my own, err, security. He’s safe.”
The man didn’t look convinced. “I need to check him for weapons.”
Jareth raised both hands, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Let me save you some time.”
What followed was an absolute circus act. Jareth began pulling weapon after weapon from his person—a dagger from his belt, brass knuckles from his pocket, a small hatchet and various medieval-looking weapons I couldn’t identify, and evena grappling hook. The pile grew absurdly large, and when I thought he was done, he reached down to his boot and pulled out a small blade.
“Oops,” he said, holding it up with a smirk. “Forgot about this little guy.”
The security guy gaped at the arsenal.
I buried my face in my hands. “God help me.”
12
JARETH
Genevieve’s hotel suite was all muted tones, tasteful décor, and a panoramic view of the city that only the uber rich could afford. I stepped inside behind Eva, scanning the room for anything suspicious. It was habit by now. Instinctual.
Genevieve was perched on the edge of a cream-colored couch. “And who’s this?” she asked when she saw me.
“This is Jareth,” Eva said, shooting me a look over her shoulder that practically screameddon’t embarrass me.“He’s my security. Completely trustworthy. You can speak candidly in front of him.”
Genevieve’s gaze darted to my leather jacket, probably imagining the arsenal that had been hidden beneath it. Fair enough. She wasn’t wrong.
I gave her a disarming smile. “I promise not to bite.”
“Jareth,” Eva hissed under her breath.
I shrugged, keeping my mouth shut. For now.
Eva’s phone rang. “It’s Gabe,” she said, before putting the call on speaker. “Gabe, I’m with Genevieve now. What have you found?”
Gabe’s voice came through, smooth and confident, with that annoying lilt that made my jaw clench. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Good news is, I traced the origins of some of those posts. Turns out they came from a handful of disgruntled former co-stars. It seems they’ve been holding a grudge and decided to band together for a little revenge. This suggests the smear campaign is organic, though coordinated. Social media trolls, of course, amplified the accusations, adding to the chaos.”
Genevieve frowned, and Eva leaned forward. “And the bad news?”
“Well,” Gabe continued, “whoever orchestrated this did a hell of a job covering their tracks. It’s been difficult to uncover, even for me, and you know how good I am. I finally found a couple of solid trails that have led me to a PR firm called Burned Toast, but I need more time to get more details. I’ll keep you posted.”
Eva smiled, and it lightened her tone. “Oh, I know. You’re the best, Gabe. I love you. I’ll even bake you cookies as a thank-you gift.”
When Gabe laughed, it grated on my last nerve. “You don’t bake, Eva. Don’t lie to me and get my hopes up.”
“For you, darling, I’ll bake,” she teased, her voice dripping with charm.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, silently mouthing, “Bye, Gabe,” with an exaggerated roll of my eyes.
Eva shot me a look. “Email me everything. I’ll review it as soon as I’m back at the office.”
“Already sent. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Will do,” Eva said.
“Gabe, huh?” I said once she’d ended the call. “Seems like you two are pretty chummy.”
