Protecting the Heiress Page 2
“And?” Farrah nudged.
“And I won’t do it again. Can we move on? We do have a client coming,” she said, glaring at Meeks as she flipped through the pages on her tablet with far more gusto then she intended. Francine hated to feel like she was being scolded by anyone, but especially by one of her sisters. She was just thankful that Felicia was on the other side of the world; otherwise, as the doctor in the family, she’d demand to give her a physical exam.
“As I said, I think we should pass on this one,” Meeks reiterated. “Surely there are other less notable celebrities we could use for this...test.”
Like hell, buster! Keep it professional, Francine. After Francine gave herself a quick pep talk on the best way to handle the situation, her eyes searched the room before landing on Meeks. “While I appreciate your concern and input, we won’t be passing. I’ve already advised Mr. Morgan of that fact and accepted his very large retainer, so unless Robert’s found something in his background check...” Francine paused long enough to give Robert time to respond.
Robert looked at Meeks, then back at Francine before he reluctantly said, “Nothing that sends up any red flags. Daniel’s team is available, so if we’re taking the job, we’re ready to go.”
“That’s great. Let’s move forward.” Francine shot Meeks another look that challenged him to say anything.
He didn’t.
“Now, I know Daniel and his team are some of the best guys we have, but I promised Mr. Morgan that I’d stay close to things, so I’m taking the lead on this one.”
“Hell, no!” Meeks declared, slamming both hands of the table.
Everyone froze and stared at him. “Excuse me?” Francine said, her eyebrows standing at attention.
“How many times do you need to be shot to get it through that beautiful stubborn head of yours that—”
“That what?” she asked, thrusting her chin forward. “We’re not kids that need your protection anymore. You do know that, right?”
Before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the conference room door just before Kelly flung it open.
“Excuse me, Mr. Morgan and Tiffany...the Tiffany...just arrived,” she said in an excited voice.
“Looks like our young intern is starstruck...and a little fickle, too,” Robert said, laughing from behind his sunglasses.
“Robert,” Mary scolded, hitting his arm again.
“They’re not supposed to be here for another hour,” Francine protested, glaring at her sister. “You forgot to have Paul reschedule the appointment, didn’t you?”
“May...be,” she said, giving her sister a sheepish look that a little kid would give when they knew they’d done something wrong. “Look, there was a lot going on with planning the wedding and all.”
“It was Paul’s wedding, not yours.” Francine reminded.
Robert smiled at Farrah.
“I...I mean, he’s basically the brother we never had, and he needed my help. We paid for it,” Farrah declared.
“Again...still not your wedding.”
Farrah laughed.
“They sent them up from the lobby, so I put them in the VIP lounge,” Kelly said.
Tiffany Tanner was the current big thing in entertainment—a young starlet whose most recent movie had made millions within hours of its opening. She was beautiful, rich and a household name, which made her need for a bodyguard a no-brainer. What was strange was her immediate need for a complete security overhaul.
“Please show our guests to the conference room next to my office,” Francine said. “Thanks, Kelly.”
After Kelly closed the door behind her, Francine focused on Meeks. “We are taking this case. The board agreed to this trial period for celebrity personal protection and it’s my job to select which celebrity we’ll be working with. We’re just fortunate that Tiffany was looking for a new agency. Daniel’s team will be assigned, and Farrah and I will be taking the lead. Any questions?” She gave him no time to respond. “Good!”
Francine stood, collected her things and said to her sister, “Shall we?” She gave Meeks a parting nod before she swept out of the room.
“Right behind you, sis,” Farrah said. She looked at Meeks, smiled and said, “I guess she told you.”
“One of you might want to change your hairstyle or something so the client will be able to tell you apart,” Meeks said before they cleared the table.
Farrah unbound her hair, bowed her head and shook out her long curls. She rose up, fluffed her hair with her fingers and smiled.
Robert lowered his sunglasses and said, “Damn!”
Farrah laughed, winked at Robert and left the room.
Chapter 3
Damn, man, you sound like a girl! Meeks chided himself for the hair comment.
He remained at the conference table, fuming at the ridiculousness of it all. He was reluctant to contradict Cine, as his earlier outburst had surprised everyone—including himself. Was the woman trying to get herself killed?
It was bad enough that that bastard Raymond Daniels—a former enemy who blamed Francine for his arrest—came gunning for her even when he was out on bond. Too bad the cops got to him and put him back in jail before I got ahold of him. Does she have to keep putting herself in dangerous situations? Meeks thought as he picked up his tablet and phone.
When the board approved the expansion of the personal protection division to include celebrities, Meeks had tried to keep an open mind. However, the clients they assisted other agencies with only confirmed his worst fears, and Meeks was determined to change the board’s mind. Meeks was already having problems with the personal protection division since Francine insisted on continuing her fieldwork; adding celebrity to that mix only enhanced his resolve to eliminate the line completely.
While personal protection for celebrities had the potential to become an extremely profitable piece of business, it brought a lot of unnecessary chaos—unwanted publicity, uncooperative clients and questionable situations—chaos Meeks felt that their already extremely profitable agency could do without. However, Francine’s desire and ability to expand that line of business, ultimately increasing their profits expediently in a short period of time, had made that goal a lot more difficult. Now keeping Francine out of harm’s way was his new priority. If he again allowed Mr. Blake’s daughter to be seriously injured—or even worse—on his watch, Meeks would never forgive himself.
“Well, I guess that means the meeting’s adjourned,” Robert proclaimed as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood.
Meeks followed Robert out the door when Mary said, “Not so fast, you two.”
Both men stopped where they stood and gave her their undivided attention.
Mary Walker had worked for the company for over twenty-five years, but she had been a close friend to the Blakes even longer. She had been their father’s assistant almost from the beginning, and her eldest daughter had even been the family’s go-to babysitter for the triplets. Mary was promoted to office manager right after Meeks had joined the firm, taking his father’s position upon his death, and had been like a second mother to him—to all of the staff, in fact.
She was small in stature, but her quiet strength and no-nonsense attitude made her an unstoppable force. When Mary spoke, Meeks listened.
Mary tossed her salt-and-pepper hair from her shoulders, stood to her full five-foot height and placed her hands on her hips. “Francine was right. I know it’s hard to believe, but the Blake women are strong and smart and can handle themselves,” she pointed out. “You don’t need to treat them like fragile dolls that need your constant supervision and protection. Your day of acting as their quasi bodyguard is over.”
Meeks smiled and raised his hands with palms facing Mary, a sign of surrender. “Mary, I was only trying to—”
�
�I know what you were doing. You’ve been doing it for years and you need to find another way to do it. Try the direct approach,” she advised, giving him a wide smile.
Mary was in her sixties, but with her caramel-colored skin still smooth and free of wrinkles, she looked twenty years younger and beautiful as ever. She picked up her coffee cup and files and left the men staring after her as she exited the conference room.
Meeks headed to his office without making eye contact with anyone he passed. His robotic movements, deep frown and tight jaw sent a clear message: Leave me the hell alone. He walked into his office and slammed the door behind him, but before he could even make it around his desk, his door opened, and there Robert stood.
“What?” Meeks snapped. He always held his tongue with Mary, but he didn’t have to with Robert.
“Don’t shoot,” Robert said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
Meeks and Robert had been best friends since college, and at times, Meeks had been closer to Robert than his own brother. Robert and Meeks had started a technology company after graduation, and within a few years they’d sold it and made millions. With no concrete plans after the sale, Robert had agreed to join Meeks when he took over for his father after his death. While Meeks trusted Robert with his life and valued his opinions above most, he wasn’t in the mood for any of them at the moment.
“Don’t you have some work to do?” Meeks asked.
“Why don’t you two just get together already?” Robert asked as he folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “If nothing else, maybe you’ll get it out of your system.”
“What are you talking about?” Meeks asked as he sat in his chair behind his father’s antique cherrywood desk.
“You and Francine. You two have been doing this dance for a while now.” He pushed off the doorframe and entered the office, closing the door behind him. “First, you said she was too young for you. Then she’s the boss’s daughter—”
“She’s always been the boss’s daughter,” he declared.
“Then she’s basically you in a dress. There’s always something... In reality, you’re crazy about her. Hell, we all know you’re crazy about her. So do something about it already!”
“Cine and I are business partners. Period.”
Robert took the seat directly across from Meeks’s desk. “Which is why you were willing to walk away from a multimillion-dollar client? Because there was a remote possibility that Francine could be in danger?”
“Francine is the CEO of this company—an organization with a stellar worldwide reputation, which we all have worked hard for,” he said, stabbing his index finger into his desk. “This was a role she was groomed and destined for. Hell, she’s wanted it her whole life. She has no business working cases in the damn field. Didn’t we learn that lesson last year when she was almost shot by that irate husband we helped put away?” he yelled at his friend. “Or how about two months ago when she did get shot?” He threw up his hands. “She could have died, for Christ’s sake.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t, and working cases is her choice...not yours,” he said, pointing at his friend. “Francine has been following in her father’s footsteps since she was a kid. Do you remember telling me that? We both know she’s more than qualified. Her and her sisters’ years of martial arts training from not only their father, but from several experts in the field, set them apart from most. They’re double black belts. Hell, Francine’s better at handling herself and a weapon—any type of weapon too, gun, knife, crossbow—than some of the men we have walking around here,” Robert said as he ran the back of his hand along his jawline. “Shit, if that asshole didn’t get the jump on her, she wouldn’t have gotten shot.”
Meeks stood and turned to stare out his windows. “Being better than some of the men around here didn’t stop her from getting shot now, did it? She could have died, man.”
“So this is about your personal feelings for Francine, and not her abilities as an agent or her position with the company?”
Meeks glared at Robert over his shoulder.
“Because if it is,” Robert tilted his head slightly, raised his eyebrows and pointed at him, “you ought to remember that danger is something we all face regularly. In fact, we all happily signed up for it, and Francine was the most eager of us all—a fact that we all knew from the first day she started working in the field five years ago.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Meeks mumbled, returning to his desk. “She was determined to show everyone that she was just as good as the men,” he admitted grudgingly. “Turns out she was better than most of them, too.”
Robert threw back his head and laughed. “We had to rethink our stance on a number of things, and she challenged us every step of the way. Remember when she insisted that everyone learn the ‘art,’” he said, using air quotes to emphasize his point. “...of handling knives and bows and arrows?”
“Yeah, or when they both had all the men learn some form of martial arts because they thought that boxing shouldn’t be the only hand-to-hand defense they knew.” Meeks smiled as he remembered Big Bob trying to master the roundhouse kick. He was surprised just how well the large man had handled that three-hundred-pound body of his.
“There’s not one thing she and Farrah can’t do. You do realize that Francine is the reason why the team is as strong as it is today, right?”
“I know. I just...” Meeks’s mind drifted for a moment.
Robert studied his friend before saying, “You know what happened with Jasmine wasn’t your fault—or Francine for that matter...right? You surround yourself with a lot of strong women, and you can’t blame yourself when they put themselves in harm’s way and end up getting hurt. You can’t protect them from themselves.”
“Don’t go there,” Meeks warned. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded how he’d let his relationship with Jasmine blind him to her reckless ambition, something he swore he’d never let happen again. “This has nothing to do with Jasmine. With regard to Cine, I’d be just as concerned about any of our agents if they acted as recklessly as she did last night,” he protested, all the while knowing his argument held no weight.
“Reckless? According to the debrief summary she did an excellent job—especially under the circumstances,” Robert countered.
“And hurt herself in the process, too,” Meeks shot back. “Not to mention, she had no backup.”
Robert stood and headed for the door. “Damn, man. It was a party! She had plenty of backup on the scene. Everyone wore those new alert watches that you insist we all needed.” He cracked open the door but gave a parting shot. “Our teams are the best at what they do, and they always have each other’s backs, especially when it comes to working with the Blake sisters. And working with Cine in particular, you always have to be on point.”
“Enough already, I get it. You think she’s a superhero,” Meeks said with a slight curve of his lips.
“Be careful. You don’t want to feel the wrath of those Blake women,” Robert said, giving his friend a half smile.
“Like you did with Farrah two months ago when she accused you of honing in on the Boyd case?” Meeks questioned.
“Exactly like that, especially since I wasn’t honing in on anything, remember? You sent me to Vegas to keep an eye on her just to prevent Francine from having to go do it. Man, was Farrah pissed.” Robert ran the back of his hand across his face.
“I wouldn’t put it exactly like that,” Meeks said, defending his choice to send Robert to Las Vegas so Francine wouldn’t feel the need to go. “I never did find out what happened between you two while you were there.”
“She didn’t need or want my help, but we got the job done anyway, and that’s all that matters. Besides, you know what they say. What happens in Vegas...” Robert laughed as he left Meeks’s office.
Meeks knew his friend was right.
The Blake women had been trained by their father, former army ranger Frank Blake, and by all accounts, he was the best in the business. He’d been determined to build the best security organization in the country. He had every intention of making sure his girls were prepared to take over and ensure his legacy when the time was right. Still, Meeks knew firsthand that no matter how well you’d been trained and groomed, accidents happened and there were some things that were beyond your control. He would be damned if he let something happen to Francine Blake.
Chapter 4
Francine walked into her office with Farrah right behind her. She now held the corner office that had once been occupied by their father. It was as large as the living room in her apartment and full of happy memories captured in the many photographs plastered on every wall between expensive works of art. The oval-shaped mahogany-wood-and-glass-topped desk that she’d designed and made herself sat in the center of the room atop a rich, earth-toned Persian rug that spoke more to Francine’s style than the desk that had previously been used by their father.
While Francine may have hated her father’s old desk, she loved his soft leather wingback chair and matching sofa, so they both stayed. But the possession of her father’s that Francine prized the most was his massive book collection, a collection which was full of original works and first editions, along with several technical books that she reached for daily.
“Can you believe Meeks? Making this whole new client thing about me...about my being shot?” Francine complained as she began pacing the floor of her office. “Like I’m some helpless child that needs her hand held. What, I’m suddenly too fragile to handle myself? I did my time in the shrink’s chair after the shooting, at Dad’s insistence, mind you, and I’ve had no lingering effects. I was cleared to return to work. I don’t need Meeks trying to tell me what to do, too.”
Farrah smiled and sat quietly on the sofa.
“I mean, it’s not like I’m not capable of handling myself,” she said, making tracks across the plush carpet. “How many times have I laid his ass out during our workouts?”