Page 26 of Nanny for the SEALs

Rogan nodded. “Apparently she got another death threat. She wants a security detail covering her at all public events.”

“You see?” Brady said, smacking me and Rogan on the back. “Sometimes things work out.”

10

Heather

Being in a suite at the Four Seasons made me feel like Julia Roberts inPretty Woman.

Minus the hooker stuff, I mean.

As soon as the bellhop showed me the room and then left, I ran across the room and jumped onto the bed, landing flat on my face in the cloud-like sheets. After that I took a long soak in the tub. Maurice and I didn’t have a tub at the apartment—just a standing shower. I hadn’t had a good, long bath since I was back home in Texas.

Now I was wearing a lush bathrobe and relaxing in the sitting room—did I mention my suite had a sitting room?—while helping myself to mini-bar drinks and a fat room service steak.

Why not? HLS Security was footing the bill.

It had been a while since I treated myself to anything resembling luxury. Last Christmas I splurged on a spa treatment. That wiped out my bank account so thoroughly that I had to eat peanut butter sandwiches for two weeks, but it was worth it.

Staying here was even more enjoyable since it was free.

My phone rang around ten. It was Maurice. “How’s your date going?” I asked him.

“Better than ever. We’re getting ready to head home for drinks. But the only thing I intend to put in my mouth is him.”

I giggled.

“And thank you for giving me the apartment for the night. Are you crashing on Ashley’s futon? I definitely owe you one.”

“Actually, I’m not at Ashley’s. I’m at the Four Seasons.”

“The Four Seasons golf course? Did you set up a sleeping bag on the eighteenth green? Watch out, the sprinklers go off at four in the morning. Don’t ask me how I know that.”

“My room actually overlooks the golf course,” I said, going to the window. “I can see downtown in the distance, too.”

Maurice groaned. “What did I tell you about running up your credit card? The biggest mistake someone our age can make is getting into debt. It snowballs and snowballs until it’s so big you can never pay it down. Get your booty out of there before they charge your card!”

“Relax, I didn’t use a credit card. It’s all paid for, actually.”

“What’s happening right now?”Maurice asked. “Are you doing a bit? Are these lines from a script where you play someone who isn’t broke as hell?”

“I’ve had a busy day. It’s a long story. But it’s agoodstory. I’ll tell you the next time I see you.”

A knock came at my door.

“Oh! There’s the ice cream bar I ordered from room service.”

“Ice cream bar? Room service? Girl, you should switch with me. Let me and my date have the hotel room and you can stay in the apartment.”

“Nope!” I said cheerfully. “Trust me, after what I went through today, I earned this room. Hold on a second.”

The bathrobe I was wearing lacked pockets, so I put my phone down on the table and went to the door. But room service wasn’t who had knocked.

It was Rogan Holt. He stood outside the door with his hands in his jeans pockets.

“You’re not my ice cream bar,” I said.

A polite smile appeared on his chiseled face. “Mind if I come in?”

---