Taken by Tuesday

Neil grinned. “Linda’s actually kinda cool.”

The slang caught Rick by surprise. “How so?”

“Hard to describe. Just easygoing now that Emma is here.”

“You won her over, did ya?”

“Sometimes quiet and stoic wins.”

Neil’s comment just made Rick’s smile bigger. “Vain much?”

Neil glanced at the monitors, looked back. “How is everything with you?”

Rick found the question odd. “Great . . . fine.”

Neil shook his head. “When we hooked up, you said you hated LA, yet you’re still here. I keep expecting you to move on.”

“Oh.” Rick leaned against the desk, glanced out the window. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“Surprised.”

“Working with you doesn’t suck.” It didn’t. In fact, Rick finally felt connected with people, something he had only felt when he was on active duty. Didn’t suck that some of those people introduced him to Judy . . . and she didn’t suck.

“So you’re gonna be around for a while?”

“I don’t feel the need to move on, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Neil nodded. “Good. I’m going to be gone for two weeks. I need you to watch everything here.”

“Not a lot here when both yours and Blake’s families are gone.”

No, there was a security team at Albany fit for a duke and his family. Not that anyone needed to worry with Neil among them.

“I need you ready to help Carter or Eliza if something happens. Michael will be back before the fundraiser.” The fundraiser was a black-tie event at The Village to help raise funds for the kids there. Carter, the governor of California, had a security team, but when push came to shove in the real world, Carter knew he could depend on Neil . . . and Rick was an extension of Neil when he wasn’t available to help. “How’s the campaigning going?”

“I think a second term is a shoo-in. We need to keep ourselves open to any threats.”

“So,” Rick recapped, “everything should be perfectly boring while you’re gone?”

Neil looked up and glared. “When is our life ever boring?”

Then, as if on cue, noise from the baby monitor interrupted their conversation and Emma fought her nap.

“There’s a black-tie event at The Village right after we get back.” Samantha handed a check to Meg and turned away. She glanced at the amount and nearly choked.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s a clothing allowance.”

Meg hadn’t spent that many zeros on clothes her entire life.

“For clothes?”

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

The only thing Meg could do was nod.

“The rich sniff out cheap crap. I understand the need to pick up a bargain, but don’t start at a big box store.”

“But—”

“I expect receipts. Evening gowns go to your feet, keeping in mind your shoes. There will be alterations and accessories. I expect every image recorded in the tabloids to reflect wealth. Even those from a dance club.”

Meg closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “You saw that?”

Samantha laughed. “Cute guys.”

“They’re g*y.”

“Still cute. Next time wear a silk shirt. The rich know all about the paparazzi. Most love the attention, but anyone watching us will expect a certain level of quality. And once you’re here, they want you to be someone that can relate to their issues. Even if you can’t.”

“I don’t even know where to shop.”

“Not a problem. I have Karen stopping by tomorrow to take you and Judy out shopping.”

“Seriously?”

Samantha laughed. “Seriously.”

Meg sat back in her chair with a laugh. “This doesn’t feel like work.”

Her boss switched into a file on the computer. “No worries, what I’m going to show you next will feel like work.”

Two hours later Meg’s head was fried. Not only were there portfolios on women to match with men . . . but a few men looking for a longer-term selection of women. Memorizing the faces so Meg could match couples at a glance was imperative. Then there were the kinds of profiles of men and women she needed to keep an eye out to recruit.

Meg was clicking through pages long after Samantha had left the Tarzana house.

When the front door opened, Meg assumed it was her boss returning. When a male voice interrupted her thoughts, she jumped.

“Hey.”

Meg swiveled in her chair, a hand to her chest. “Good Lord.”

“Sorry.”

Rick stood in the doorway, his lazy smile gracing his face. Why Judy wasn’t jumping the man was beyond Meg.

Meg looked out the window, noticed the sun setting. “I lost the time.”

“Happens to the best of us. So you’re Samantha’s new recruit.”

Meg turned toward the computer, hit print so she could study the information at home, and turned off the computer when she was finished. “Samantha is the perfect boss.”

“She’s a nice lady.”

“Agreed.” She stood, looked around the office. “Does it bother you that I’ll be around?”

Rick shrugged. “I’m used to it. Besides, I’m not here often. Just be sure and set the alarm when you come and go.”

Samantha had taught her the drill. It mimicked that which she’d already learned living with Judy at Michael’s home.

“Not a problem.” Meg gathered her papers and lifted her purse onto her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“Oh . . . OK.”

Before Meg made it to the door, the inevitable happened.

“So how are you and Judy settling in?”

A slow, easy smile met Meg’s lips. The man was terribly transparent. “Judy thinks her new boss is a dickless putz.”

How Rick managed to have dimples and hold back a smile was beyond her.

“Other than that, she’s fine.”

“And the tabloid fodder?”

“You saw that?”

The piece had been small, but it seemed to have made the rounds.

“Double date?”

Oh, now Meg got it. Rick was fishing for the real story. “We’d just met the guys.” She left out the part about them being into each other and not them.

“You were all laughing.”

“Evenings out do that.” Instead of elaborating, Meg squeezed between Rick and the doorway. “Well, it’s late. See ya tomorrow, Rick.”