Page 12 of The Rebel (Looking to Score 1)
“Miss Wynn.” I tip my chin in her direction, keeping my expression cool.
A smile lifts her full mouth. “Really, Holt? I think we’re beyond last names at this point, don’t you?”
I return her easy smile, pretending I’m not basically losing my shit right now. “I don’t know. It’s been a minute.”
“A minute . . . or five years?”
“Six,” I say, correcting her. Shit. I sound like I’m keeping score, and I guess I am.
Eden’s smile widens a little more at my admission. “You’re right. But at any rate, call me Eden.”
“Of course,” I say, and then my next thought manages to slip out. “It’s good to see you again.”
She motions me over to the empty chair at the conference table in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows in her office. There’s no handshake or friendly hug, and I’m grateful for that. Because while I’m holding it together, I don’t know how I’d manage touching her.
The older guy seated at the table in her office has been watching our interaction with an amused expression. “You two know each other?” he asks when I sit down.
Eden lowers herself into the chair across from me. “We go back a ways. Since college.”
“Sutton?” the guy asks.
“That’s the place.” I nod. “Holt Rossi. It’s nice to meet you.”
He grins in my direction. “Les. Good to meet you too. I was worried you were going to have your hands full with Eden. She didn’t want extra security brought in, but . . . seems like with you two being old friends, maybe this will work out after all.”
Eden chuckles. “Never discount my ability to be a pain in the ass, Les. I’m sure Holt will have his hands full with me soon enough.”
A man can hope.
I clear my throat. “Should we begin? You can fill me in on the current security staff roles and responsibilities. Any gaps or shortcomings you’ve noticed?”
Eden straightens her spine and places her elbows on the table. She’s all business now, and the playful side of her I glimpsed when I walked in is gone.
I’ll be honest, though. This side of her is every bit as hot.
Be professional, I remind myself. I’m here to do a job.
“We employ the usual security staff of a professional hockey team,” Eden says. “We have a director of security who oversees the department, which includes seven full-time security personnel, a couple dozen public safety officers who work the parking lots and perimeter on game days, and event security who enforce the rules for ice access, making sure no one approaches the players or locker rooms. Then we have technical staff who monitor our security systems and cameras. Everything is top of the line.”
She pauses, smiling as she meets my eyes. “I’ve learned a lot these past couple of months.”
Since her grandfather died, I assume she means. She’s had to jump in with both feet.
“Sounds like you’ve got a handle on it. But now you’re looking for some extra help? A contract position to keep Miss Wynn . . . Eden safe?”
Man, it feels weird having her name in my mouth after all these years.
Les nods. “Some extra help, yes. She’s young. Single. And she’s become somewhat of a controversial figure.”
“Any credible threats?” I ask, my stomach tightening. “Emails? Phone calls?”
“No, nothing like that.” Les shakes his head. “A few angry fans, comments on blog posts, things like that.”
“Keyboard warriors,” Eden says flatly.
Les clears his throat, directing his attention back to me. “This is all just a precaution. It’s what Pete would have wanted.”
I look to Eden. “My condolences about your grandfather. Of course he’d want you to be safe.” After Eden gives me a sad smile, I continue. “I started my company four years ago. Before that, I worked in private security, learning the industry. We’re small, only four employees right now plus myself, but I trust the guys I have completely. We’d be at your beck and call day or night.”
I don’t miss the way Eden’s gaze lingers on my mouth as I speak. Focus, Rossi.
Les fills me in on the boycott of Eden when she was announced as team owner, a couple of small protests that really don’t sound like they amounted to much. But still, he’s right to take precautions. You really can’t be too careful.
I nod along. “It reminds me of the same thing that happened years ago when a ninety-year-old grandmother took over a professional football team. That didn’t go over well either.”
“The fans can be pretty protective of their team,” Les says.
“Misogynistic is the word I think you’re looking for, Les.” Eden’s lips lift into a smirk at him before she turns those baby blues on me again. “And you’re prepared to take on another contract? I travel with the team sometimes.”
I nod. “Yes. And my staff can provide backup if I can’t be somewhere, or if we need to secure multiple locations. We’re trained in everything from how to handle a medical emergency to disarming a threat, dealing with atmospheric conditions, and taking care of special needs for female clients.”
