Page 33 of Ms. Fortune

“Just be careful until we get security for you. Don't go out anywhere by yourself. Make sure you’re always with a group of friends. Or, if you can stay here with me at least for a few days, there's security here for the press, so I'm assuming they'll be here as long as the press is.”

It's the only thing I can think of doing at the moment. There aren't many options for us until we have more information. My primary goal is to keep Chelsie safe for now.

She nods her agreement, which I'm surprised at, but I don't say anything because I don't want her to change her mind.

“Let me see if Bianca can take you to get some things from your apartment, OK?”

She doesn't respond but picks up the letter and begins to reread it. I guess that's answer enough.

I head back to my father’s office to call Bianca, but before I can pull up her number, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. It’s Frank Santangelo.

Are you kidding me? The back of my neck prickles with foreboding. I stare at the phone in my hand, a heated debate going on inside my head. You were about to call him, he just beat you to it. Answer it and find out what Calnetta is up to. Let it go to voicemail. You don’t want to get mixed up in this. Curiosity wins.

“Hello?” This is a horrible idea. My voice shakes so much I barely recognize it. I should hang up now before I say anything else.

“Normandy Blake?” He sounds normal, like a regular guy. I thought somehow he’d sound like an evil villain or something. It feels like a trap.

I don’t respond. I don’t know why not precisely, but I can’t make words come out of my mouth, and I’m gripping the phone way too tightly.

“My name is Frank Santangelo. I knew your father.”

Still nothing from me.

“My condolences to your family.”

I wait silently for him to go on.

“Would it be possible to meet somewhere to talk privately? Phones aren’t secure. I’m with --”

“Norm, maybe we should see if Taylor or one of his guys can take me to pick up stuff from my apartment instead.”

I quickly disconnect the call and whirl around to find Chelsie leaning in the doorway. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, answering that call. I don’t think I was thinking at all. Curiosity just got to me.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Great idea about the security. Let me make a call.”

That evening after dinner, Taylor comes by to take Chelsie to her apartment to grab some things to tide her over while she stays here. When he arrives, I'm astonished to find Brandon with him. Seeing him startles me, and my breath catches in my throat. With everything going on, this was the first day I didn't think about Brandon every minute of every hour. It was maybe every minute of every two hours. It was still too much.

Taylor nods and walks past me into the house while Brandon stays on the doorstep. Our eyes are locked in an intense staring contest. His eyes are tired, and the shadows on his face seem deeper than usual. I want to run into his arms and slam the door on his face at the same time. It’s irrational. I’ve spent this time away from him trying to organize my feelings about us, and each time I try, I just end up confusing myself. There is definitely something special about him, and I could probably fall in love with him in a heartbeat if I let myself, but the chaos that surrounds him is too much for me. Only now, the chaos I’m afraid of is surrounding me, not him, so my rationale falls flat.

“I thought you went back to New York.”

“I did.” He looks away for only a moment, then back at me, his intensity ramping up. “But I had to come back after I heard….” His voice trails off, not finishing his sentence. I know exactly what he’s referring to.

After a minute of heavy silence, he steps up and wraps me in his arms, his hard body and strong muscles enveloping me, protecting me, and comforting me. I can't help but lean my head onto his chest and allow myself to be weak, comforted, and protected. I have needed this all day and didn't know it.

“Taylor told me about the letter you found from your dad. I wish you would have called me.” His voice is low, and his warm breath on my ear makes me shiver.

“Why would I call you? What could you do about any of it? I thought you were in New York.”

“I could do what I'm doing right now. I could get more security for you. I could leave everything in New York behind and be here for you. I am here for you.”

I tilt my head up and search his face for some kind of catch. Some sign that this is a quid pro quo and I'll owe him something, but I don't see it. All I see are concern, worry, and anxiety. And I don't think he's faking it. It’s hard for me to tell.

“Brandon, you know I would never ask you for anything.”

“I do know that, which is why I'm here offering. There is a time to be stubborn and do things yourself. This is not one of those times. You were absolutely right to reach out to Taylor to get someone to watch over Chelsie. And I love that you also offered whatever security was protecting you to be transferred to protect her instead. That's not happening, but I appreciate the thought.” He chuckles, and I can feel his chest rumble against me.

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