15

Mary looked up when I walked in, but only had eyes for Jake today. "Good morning, Jake," she said.

"Morning," he answered back.

I smiled as I crossed the foyer towards the open staircase. My smile faltered halfway up the steps as I felt eyes all over me and not just Jake's behind me.

I looked over my shoulder where the pull felt the strongest and I could see everyone in their offices staring at me. A chill ran down my spine.

Christina looked away quickly and resumed her work. I turned my head and slowly climbed the rest of the way to the second floor.

After I reached my office, I turned and discreetly waved Jake inside.

"Did you see that?"

He pursed his lips and tilted his head toward the doors. "The staring?"

"Yes, the staring. So, you noticed it, too."

He nodded.

"You told me you called the office yesterday and called in sick for me. Do you think somehow the word got out that I was kidnapped?"

Jake shook his head. "No way. We were very discreet."

I put my hands on my hips. "You grabbed me in broad daylight, dragged me into a van, and then onto a boat blindfolded."

His mouth twitched. "We were careful. No one was around."

I sighed but decided to forget about it.

I opened today's calendar and groaned. I had a two o'clock meeting with a client at the courthouse. Jake wouldn't be happy about this. Of course, I wouldn't jump out the window again, but we had to come to a compromise.

I worked the entire morning undisturbed. Except when Jake distracted me by placing a yogurt on my desk.

At noon, I decided to be social and have lunch in the breakroom. I pulled out a granola bar from the box I kept in my drawer.

Walking down the steps, I felt eyes on me again, but I avoided looking into anyone's office.

I spotted Christina at a table with another attorney. I puffed out my chest, clutched my bar, and smiled as I walked up to them.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked.

Christina smiled and pointed to the empty chair in front of her. "Please."

The other attorney didn't quite smile, but she wasn't frowning either. It was difficult to explain. Her eyes were wide, and she held her mouth slightly open.

We ate and chatted for a few minutes. "Have either of you watched the new rom-com on Netflix?" I asked, in between bites.

Christina shook her head. "I'm not much of a TV person."

I nodded, "Oh. What do you do to relax?"

"I kick the shit out of my trainer," she said with a straight face. Christina was badass in a way that scared me a little. Like, if Jake had kidnapped her, I didn't think he would have returned in one piece. I smiled, remembering the bruises I gave him, and felt a little better about myself.

"How about you…?"

"Natalie," the attorney answered. "Is it the one where the guy is an athlete and the woman is a book nerd?"

"Yes," I smiled.

"No, I haven't seen it."

"Oh."

We ate in silence for a few minutes until Calvin walked over to our table. "Hey," his voice dripped with insincere concern. "How are you?"

I looked at Christina and Natalie, wondering if he was speaking to them. But they were both staring back at me.

"Um. Fine."

With a hand on my shoulder, Calvin continued, "We were so worried about you. Understandably, you didn't feel like coming to work yesterday."

My heart stuttered. "Yes. I wasn't feeling well."

He squeezed, perhaps a little too tightly, "You poor thing. If you need anything, just call me. You have my number, right?"

I couldn't recall Calvin wanting to exchange numbers. He only ever came to exchange snide remarks. This entire conversation had me in a loop. What the heck was going on?

"I don't have your number, Calvin. But I'm fine. Thanks for checking on me."

"Sure thing."

My eyebrows pulled together, and I shook my head, wondering where this concern was coming from. Was he trying to curry favor with my mother? This often happened when people found out I was the governor's daughter. At first, I liked the popularity, but I quickly realized it had nothing to do with me. I would need to chat with Calvin soon that I had no influence on my mother and she didn't do favors for anyone. Not even me.

"Don't mind him. His heart is in the right place," said Natalie.

"Funny. I didn't think he had one," said Christina, taking a sip of her coffee.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "I should go. You can never predict Manhattan traffic and I have a two o'clock at the courthouse. Thanks for the company."

"Anytime," said Natalie, and Christina just waved me off.

Jake was right outside the lunchroom; his lips formed a straight line, and he pressed on his earpiece. I could hear a loud voice on the other end. The other person must have been shouting. Jake swore under his breath.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked.

"You're going to have to cancel your meeting."

I looked back at him as though he'd lost his mind. "Absolutely not."

Jake closed his eyes, gathering his patience, I assumed, then put his hand on my shoulder. "There are reporters outside your office. I don't know who tipped them off, but somehow a story broke this morning that the governor's daughter was kidnapped yesterday and her apartment burglarized."

I thought of Calvin's words. Was he genuinely concerned, or was he hoping for details to share for a price? Most people wouldn't jump to that conclusion, but I'd learned that lesson a while ago.

"Well, they can report that I'm fine and back at work. I'm not canceling my meeting. So, you can either do your job and walk me to my car or move out of my way."

Jake closed his eyes again, then turned and pressed on his earpiece. "All right. We're coming out. Get the car ready. Yes, I know, I warned her. But I told you she wouldn't listen. We're on our way now."

I smiled. "Thank you." Then I grabbed my coat and walked to the front door.

There were about five reporters holding recorders outside and two cameramen. As soon as I opened the door, they turned on their spotlights. I shielded my eyes with my hand and walked towards the parking lot.

"Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams!" Their shouts were deafening as though twice the amount of people were calling out to me. "Can you tell us how you got away? Are you hurt? Was it terrorists?"

They hurled question after question at me, but Jake pushed the reporters out of the way as soon as I stepped out and blocked them with his body. "Let's go."

But my boots froze to the ground, my body paralyzed by the lights, the shouting, and the frenzy. Jake put his arm around my shoulder and pushed his way through the crowd.

He covered me with his body until we reached the car and opened the passenger door. Will sat in the driver's seat. "What took you so long?" he teased Jake.

"I want to see you bulldoze through a dozen bodies in less than two minutes."

Will shrugged. "I only counted ten."

Jake shook his head. "Just drive."

Will chuckled while he drove us, leaving the reporters scrambling to get to their cars and follow us.

Turning to look back through the rear window, I noticed at least two cars were already on the road. "Do you think you can lose them?" I asked.

"Of course I can."

Jake turned to me with his chin down and eyes raised. "You better put your seatbelt on."

I clicked the belt in just as Will pressed down on the gas and tore down a side street. He zigged and zagged down the laneways, losing both cars at the intersection.

He hadn't taken the usual route to the courthouse, probably trying to throw the reporters off.

"Thank you," I said when he pulled up in front of the building and there was no one waiting for me.

Jake jumped out first and opened my door. "We don't have much time." I hopped out of the car and hurried up the concrete steps, exhaling after the door closed behind us.

I looked around the foyer and spotted my client. "There he is," I said, pointing to the white-haired man in a black suit. But Jake wasn't paying attention. His eyes were glued to another man, one wearing a police uniform, and a crowd of men in suits around him.

"I'll take my client inside the courtroom where we can speak privately and not be disturbed by any journalists," I told Jake.

He nodded, but continued to stare at the man. "That's a good idea."

Once I settled in, Jake approached me. "I'll be right outside these doors. I've spoken to the security guard. He's on alert. I just need to speak to the police commissioner over there real quick."

I wanted to ask why, but my client was with me, so I let it go.

"Just give me a second," I said to my client and shuffled through my papers, all the while watching Jake.

He walked towards the crowd and pushed through the gentlemen. A couple complained, but the commissioner raised his hand, killing their protest.

I couldn't hear what Jake said to him, but the commissioner smiled and raised both hands in front of him in surrender. I thought I read, ‘It wasn't me' on his lips. But Jake's next words wiped the smile from the commissioner's face. They stood eye to eye with each other, and I felt the tension more than twenty feet away.

Then Jake turned and walked back.

"What did you say?" I asked him when he returned.

"I told him if I found out he was the one who tipped the reporters, that he would live to regret it."

I stopped pretending to organize my papers and stared at him. "Threatening a police officer, let alone the commissioner, is a crime, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I also know a good lawyer," he smirked.

I smiled back. I couldn't help it, as I watched him walk away to sit at the back of the courtroom.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Connor," I said.

"No problem. I wasn't sure if you would show," said the middle-aged investment banker.

"Why not? We had a meeting scheduled for today."

He shrugged. "I heard some foreign terrorists kidnapped you yesterday. Thought you might be taking some time off."

I sighed. "Yes. But they weren't foreign terrorists, just home-grown nuisances. I'm fine, thank you for your concern. Now, let's talk about your case."

***

By the time I finished meeting with my client, it was near the end of the day. "Let's just go back to your place," I said when I met with Jake in the foyer. "I'm spent."

Jake nodded and walked me to the car. Fortunately, the reporters had not followed us to the courthouse and there was no hurry to get inside.

On the way back to Jake's apartment, I finally had a moment to think about my conversation with my mother yesterday. She was keeping something from us and I knew it was related to the break-in yesterday.

"Jake?" I asked, thinking out loud.

"Mmm?"

"You mentioned that the threatening emails sent to my mother said something about a bill she was working on, right?"

"Yeah."

I nodded, still thinking. "And yesterday's note said something about a drive?"

"That's right. What are you thinking?"

"I don't know. But I need to research this bill my mother's working on. This person doesn't want it to pass. Who has the most to gain if this bill doesn't pass?"

"Mmm…" The sound from his mouth was low and guttural. Strangely, it made my stomach dip.

He drove into the garage and parked in the same reserved spot. We took the elevator up and didn't say a word the entire time. It was a comfortable silence, as we were both lost in our thoughts.

The penthouse was just as breathtaking during the day as it was at night, maybe even more so. Despite it being nearly winter, the sun shone throughout the living room. I hung up my coat and tore off my boots as I walked up to the windows again.

Jake was on his phone when my phone alerted me to a message. "I just sent you the original email with the name of the bill on it. Thought that might help."

"Yes, it does. Thank you."

I pulled up my laptop and opened the email. The bill was named C-125, and it was being lobbied as a national security safety measure. The bill would allow police to search a citizen's browsing history without a warrant. The police could also determine their computer location, and in some cases, even tap into their cameras to locate any videos that pertain to an investigation. It was designed to enable police to track terrorists, pedophiles, human traffickers, and large criminal organizations.

I sat back and bit the skin on the side of my thumb.

"What's wrong?"

"How do you know something's wrong?"

He tilted his head and nodded at my hand in my mouth. I quickly dropped it.

"So, what have you found out?"

"It seems that the people after us are either terrorists, pedophiles, human traffickers, or the mob. Take your pick. I don't like my odds with any of them."

He sighed. "Tell me about the bill."

I explained what I read to him, and his brow furrowed. "But any hacker can get that information now. Heck, some even say governments are already doing it."

"Yes, but it wasn't legal without a warrant, so couldn't be used in a court of law. At the very least, the police would need to prove to a judge that there was enough suspicion for a warrant to justify searching their computer. The new bill would allow it to happen freely, indiscriminately, and with very little limitations."

"Congress would never let that pass," he said.

I shrugged. "When you've been around politicians as long as I have, you realize they don't always vote the way you think they will."

"Why would your mother want to propose something like this?"

"Why does she ever do anything?"

He waited, and I exhaled.

"Because she thinks it will help her career. Maybe it pleases the right lobbyist group or congressman. I have no idea. But she's become a target for some pretty nasty people. I have to convince her not to do it."

"If your mother is anything like you. That won't be easy."

I scrunched up my nose and stuck my tongue out at him. That made him laugh. Smiling, he said, "You have a nice laugh."

I hadn't realized I was laughing, too. His compliments were muddling my brain. "Thanks," I said and pushed a strand of hair out of my face.

"Has your team had any luck tracking where those emails are coming from?"

"Jager had a hit, but it was a public library. This guy isn't an amateur."

I checked the email again, this time pressing my thumb against my lip.

"What is it?"

"A public library? That's strange because the email was sent at two o'clock in the morning."

"Jager said the person probably used a program to schedule the email. So, he could have written it two days before, for all we know."

"Which library was this?"

He smiled wryly. "New York Public Library."

I huffed. Of course. One of the largest public libraries in the world.

"It's why Jager said the security footage would be useless. So many people go in and out of there."

"True, but I wonder if Jager can find out if anyone has checked out any books on privacy laws. If this person doesn't want this bill to pass, then they are probably doing their research."

His grin spread from cheek to cheek. "That's fucking brilliant, Nikki."

The nickname caught me off guard, and I sucked in a breath.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I meant, Nikole. Or Ms. Adams."

"No. Nikole is fine. And I don't mind Nikki, either. No one else calls me that."

He licked his lips, then turned away. "I'll text Jager about the checkout list now."

I nodded and watched as he typed. He was pretty quick, considering his hands were much larger than his phone's keyboard.

When he finished, he walked over to the couch and dropped down beside me. He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. "That was brilliant thinking. If you weren't such a great lawyer, I'd try to convince you to work for us."

"I've always been good at figuring puzzles out. But not so lucky figuring people out."

He turned his resting head to look at me. "I think that's an impossible task."

"I'm starting to think that of you."

He frowned. "Me? Why?"

I smiled. "You're a soldier, turned bodyguard, who's a millionaire, maybe even a billionaire," he had the grace to cringe a little, which confirmed it was the latter. "You are smoking hot, but single. You protect people yet have no problem knocking out a reporter if need be. I really don't get you."

"You think I'm hot?"

I rolled my eyes. "That's what you took from my little speech?"

He smiled. "Do you want to know why you're so terrible at figuring people out?"

I tucked my arm underneath my head and stared at him from the top of the couch. "Why?"

"Because most people don't want you to look too closely, often keeping the real parts of themselves hidden."

Mmm.

"What's the real you, Jake?"

His face clouded over, and he turned to stare at the ceiling again. "I don't know," he said. "I guess I'm someone who is still trying to figure himself out."

I nodded. I got that.

I watched as he rubbed his forehead, massaging every crease that stretched from his eyebrows to his hairline. A new question popped into my head and I nearly spoke it aloud, but I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes. It was too personal. And what if the answer hurt too much?

But there was this chasm between us. Something I had to know if I would ever imagine becoming friends with this man, trusting him, letting him into my life.

Staring at the ceiling, I exhaled slowly and asked, "Why did you keep driving that night? What was it about me?"

He exhaled softly beside me and made a choking noise. I couldn't look at him. My cheeks burned. I was too embarrassed to even open my eyes. I waited for his reply, telling myself that I had to accept whatever he said because I was the one who had asked.

I waited.

And waited.

Finally, he pushed up off the couch. "It's getting late. I'm going to get some sleep."

He stood up and walked off, leaving me staring after him.