The Mogul and the Muscle: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(38)

Her driver pulled to a stop in front of her house. She didn’t wait for anyone to open her door. Carrying her shoes—one of them had a broken heel—she got out and went inside.

I followed her in, then shut and locked her door behind us. She headed straight for the kitchen at the back of the house. I checked the ground floor for any signs of an intruder or forced entry before joining her. Probably not necessary, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

Not with her.

She sat on a stool at the island, a glass of bourbon in her hand. The only light came from the under-the-cabinet lighting, casting a soft glow over the shining surfaces. The bottle was still out, a second glass sitting next to it.

I took the stool next to her and poured myself a drink. We sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping our bourbon. The slow burn of liquor helped calm the aftereffects of all that adrenaline coursing through my system.

“Just when you thought this was the most boring security job ever,” she said, lifting her glass.

I clinked mine against hers. “I’d prefer boring.”

“I can’t disagree with you there.”

“Are you all right?”

She stared at her glass for a long moment, and I could tell she knew I wasn’t asking her if she was injured. “I think so. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I don’t know what has me more rattled. Seeing Aldrich or almost getting run over on a sidewalk.”

Every bit of me wanted to gather her in my arms and hold her. The desire was almost overwhelming, but I held myself in place. “I don’t think that’s ridiculous.”

“Did you get closure with your ex? The one who tried to kill you?”

“In a way. She thought I’d double-crossed her. Turns out I was set up by someone we both knew. So we… handled it. I wouldn’t say we were friends after that, but at least we weren’t enemies.”

“That sounds like a good ending.”

I took a sip of my drink. “It was. I don’t like loose ends.”

“I hear that.” She took a drink and set her glass down. “This isn’t because I miss him. I don’t have unresolved feelings for my ex.”

I nodded.

Aldrich had come across as egotistical, especially with his barely-in-context mention of a trip they’d taken together. He’d been like an animal marking his territory. I hadn’t been able to tell if he’d been trying to get into her head with a look-what-you’re-missing reminder of their relationship, or if that comment had been meant for me.

Either way, the brief encounter hadn’t told me whether Aldrich was just a shitty ex, or something much worse.

He was still on the list.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, the screen lighting up with a call. She picked it up, winced, and set it back down.

“Do you need to take that?”

“No. It’s just Bobby. The last thing I need right now is to listen to him tell me he’s at the sickest party ever and I really need to get down there.” She shook her head and took another drink. “You know, I used to defend Miami when people said the drivers here are the worst. But now I think they’re right.”

“That wasn’t just a bad driver.”

“He swerved onto the sidewalk, almost hit several pedestrians, smashed into a parked car, and took off. I think we can put whoever that was firmly in the bad driver category.”

I didn’t want to scare her, or make her feel worse than she already did, but I didn’t feel right coddling her either. She needed to know.

“I think he was trying to hit you.”

She closed her eyes for a second. “Fuck. I was afraid you were going to say that. The whole way here I was trying to come up with another explanation. Do you think…” She trailed off and swallowed hard before continuing. “Do you think whoever it is was trying to kill me?”

“That’s one of three possibilities.”

“What are the other two?”

I kept my hand on my glass but didn’t move to drink more. “The objective could be to scare or intimidate you. Or to hurt you, but not necessarily kill you.”

“But killing me is the third.”

“Yes.”

She rubbed her hands up and down her face. “Who would do that? Who would try to…”

“Noelle Olson and Aldrich are my main suspects. Someone attempting corporate espionage is another, although I haven’t dug up any solid connections there. But I need you to be honest and tell me if there’s anyone else who might hold a grudge against you. Any enemies you’ve made. I don’t care how long ago or how minor it might seem now.”

“No, there isn’t anyone.”

“Are you sure? A college boyfriend? A jealous coworker? Someone who might think they deserve credit for your work or a piece of your success?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. I dated off and on before Aldrich, but nothing serious. And it’s not like I clawed my way to the top, making enemies along the way. I didn’t sleep my way to the top either.” She side-eyed me.

“I wasn’t implying that you did. Why don’t you tell me how you ended up as CEO of Spencer Aeronautics.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “After college, I got a job with a company that made parts for commercial jets. It was stable, and a decent place to work, but I hated it. There was no creativity or innovation. Most of my job was trying to find ways to save money on materials without impacting safety. I can’t imagine I made enemies there. I was just a young engineer, and I left on good terms.”