A Match Made in Mystery (8 page)

“Why not?”

“I told you. I can’t afford to pay you. Coming here was a bad idea.” She stood slowly. “I mean I appreciate your help, but I just can’t do this.” She made for the door.

Brady rounded his desk and in a few quick strides blocked her exit path.

She looked up at him, eyes flashing with mild annoyance.  “You’re in my way.”

“You don’t have to pay me.”

Her expression morphed into something hard and unyielding. “I don’t need your pity or charity, Mr. Stewart.”

He blinked, stunned. “I…I…”

“If you’ll excuse me.” She skirted around him, reaching for the door handle.

He grabbed her hand, preventing her from turning the knob. “I owe it to Milton Willen to figure this out.”

“Why?” she bit out, a challenge glittering in her gaze as it bored into him.

“Because he helped me when no one else would,” he replied quietly.

She stared up at him, weighing his words.

“When he was dying, he told me that his greatest regret was the people he wasn’t going to be able to finish helping.” His throat tightened at the memory, straining his voice. What he didn’t say aloud was that Milton Willen had reminded Brady that he owed him. “I promised him that I’d take up where he’d left off. You’ve
got
to let me help you. Not because I’m taking pity on you, but because I need you to help me fulfill my oath to a dying man. Can you understand that?”

Tears filled Amy’s eyes as she stared up at him. “I understand. I understand perfectly.”

She blinked and a droplet slid down her cheek.

Without thinking, Brady raised his hand and wiped it away with the pad of this thumb, before cupping her cheek in his palm and lowering his mouth toward hers.

She wanted him to kiss her. She
’
d just met the man. They hadn
’
t even swapped contact information or gone on a date, and she wanted him to kiss her.

Her eyes fluttered closed of their own accord as his lips hovered over hers.

And then the world was tilting.

Or more specifically, she was thrown off balance, by the door she was holding onto being thrust forcefully open.

Eyes flying open, she stumbled. She would have fallen if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her upright. A quick glance at his face revealed her shocked disappointment reflected in his expression.

“Okay,” Lara chirped, bursting in. “It’s all set. Tomorrow…” She trailed off abruptly, taking in their expressions.

Brady whirled away, hiding his countenance from his secretary, tension etched in back of his neck and shoulders.

Lara swung her gaze to Amy, running her eyes up and down her speculatively. A knowing smirk lifted the corners of her mouth before she turned to address Brady’s back. “You can see Phyllis tomorrow at nine. I’ve got the address for you.”

“Okay, thanks,” he muttered, refusing to turn to face her.

“I’ll leave it here.” She placed a piece of paper on his desk. “It’s late, so I’m going to head home. I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you,” he said gruffly.

Lara smiled at Amy and extended her hand. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you.” Amy grabbed her palm and squeezed it warmly. “And thank you for everything you did. I appreciate it more than you can know.”

Releasing her hand, Lara pulled her in for a tight hug and whispered in her ear,  “Sorry I interrupted you two.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” Amy assured her quickly.

Lara chuckled, a warm, knowing sound that brought a flush to Amy’s cheeks.

As she left, pulling the door shut behind her, she called over her shoulder, “Make sure Amy gets home okay. Mildred will never forgive you if you don’t.”

The door clicked closed, leaving Amy and Brady alone in his office again.

She stared at his back as he looked out at the quickly darkening stormy sky. “I can get myself home.”

Shaking his head, he turned to snatch the address Lara had left on the desk. He handed her the letter. “You’d better hang onto this and keep it dry.”

“Thanks.”

“She’s right. Mildred will have my head. Wait here.” He stalked off through a small door that she’d assumed was a closet.

She debated leaving, but decided that the action was childish and would make her seem ungrateful for all he’d done.

A moment later he re-emerged wearing a suit jacket and carrying an umbrella. “Let’s go.”

Wordlessly, she followed him to the elevators. They waited in silence for one to arrive.

A door slid open and he indicated with a tilt of his head that she should enter first. She hesitated, the memory of being trapped in small box making her nervous.

“Would you rather take the stairs?” he asked.

Not wanting to appear afraid, she stepped inside and held her breath. He followed closely behind.

“Where did you park?”

She exhaled shakily. “I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?”

The doors slid open and she bolted out into the lobby, glad to be free. “I told you, I can get myself home.” She hurried toward the foyer doors. “The bus stop is only a few blocks away.”

He matched her stride. “You took the bus?”

She stepped outside, a gust of rain-laden wind almost knocking her over.

He grabbed her elbow, the imprint of his fingers burning their way through the fabric that separated their skin. “You’re not going to wait for a bus in this.”

“It’s just a little rain,” she assured him.

“What?” he shouted back, unable to hear her over the pounding rain and roaring wind.

“It’s just a little rain,” she shouted.

“It’s a freaking monsoon,” he shouted back, half-dragging her across the lot to a silver luxury sedan. Opening the passenger door, he practically shoved her inside before running around to the driver’s door and leaping in. “A little rain?” he mocked, starting the engine.

She looked at the blinding sheets of water cascading down the front windshield as he cranked up the car’s heat. “Okay, maybe a bit more than a little.”

Throwing back his head, he laughed, the sound echoing in the tight space. It was infectious and she found herself giggling along with him.

His laughter died away and she realized he was staring at her. Her stomach flipped nervously at the intensity in his gaze.

“You have a beautiful smile.”

Flustered, she looked away.

He pulled out of the parking space. “Where to?”

“You can drop me at Busy Bea’s.”

“You don’t trust me to take you home?”

“I’m working there tonight.”

“You’ve had a trying day.” He pulled the car into the line of crawling traffic. “Why don’t you call in sick or something?”

“Can’t. I promised Adrian I’d work tonight.”

“Adrian?”

“He’s the nephew of the owner.” Remembering Bea was no longer with them, she corrected herself, the pain of the loss of her friend making her voice hoarse. “…former owner.  The nephew of the former owner.”

“Surely he’d understand.”

“You owe Willen a debt. I owe Bea,” she told him firmly.

“Okay. Busy Bea’s it is.”

They made the rest of the thirty-minute ride in silence. She assumed he concentrated on driving while she pondered whether going to the lawyer’s office had been a mistake.

Entering the lot, he pulled up so that she could exit under the front awning.

“Thank you.” She reached for the door handle. “For everything.”

“It’s genuinely been my pleasure.”

She avoided meeting his gaze as his tone sent shivers of awareness shooting through her.

She hopped out and ran inside with a quick wave over her shoulder, wondering if she’d ever see him again, or if, after he talked to Phyllis, he’d have Lara call and give her the brush off.

After watching Amy disappear into Busy Bea
’
s, which once again wasn
’
t busy, Brady pulled into the nearest parking spot and fumbled for his phone.

The first person he called was Tom. He tapped on the steering wheel impatiently waiting for him to answer.

“Hey.” Tom’s voice finally greeted him with teasing laughter. “You do know I’m married now, right? So I
might
have other things to do than answer your multiple calls.”

“Sorry. But I need a favor.”

“Another?”

“I need to hire a bodyguard. A woman.”

“Is that what Armani told you?” Tom asked suspiciously. “And where the hell are you calling from? I can barely hear you over the background noise.”

“My car and it’s pouring. And no, this doesn’t have anything to do with Armani. I need to hire a female bodyguard.”

Tom grew serious. “Are you in trouble, buddy?”

The image of Amy’s face the moment before he’d almost kissed her in his office flashed before his eyes. Oh, he was in trouble all right, but not the kind Tom meant.

“Brady?”

“Not me. The wife of one of the partners I work for. She’s had a couple of incidents and today she was mugged. Do you know anyone who might be interested in protecting a slightly cantankerous old lady?”

“It has to be a woman?”

“She won’t go for a man.”

“Hang on a sec.”

Brady could hear Tom talking to someone else, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. He knew Mildred wasn’t going to be pleased with the idea of a bodyguard, but he was fairly certain he could get her to accept help from a female protector if he played his cards right.

“Brady?” Tom came back on the line.

“Yeah?”

“Jane’s on her phone reaching out to Alyssa Montgomery to see if she’d be interested.”

“Alyssa?”

“The blond bridesmaid.”

Brady remembered the woman who’d been escorted down the aisle by two of Tom’s brothers.  She’d looked like the one person who hadn’t been happy that day. Like him, she’d “spied” on Tom and Jane during their first date. “The Ice Princess? She’s a bodyguard?”

“She was a cop. Hang on a sec, Jane wants to talk to you.”

While Brady waited for Tom to pass the phone to his wife, he tried to imagine Alyssa and Mildred interacting. Frankly, the idea scared him.

“Hi, Brady.”  Jane’s cheery voice rang out like a beacon of hope on this otherwise dark night.

Brady smiled. “Hi, Jane. Sorry to bother you guys with this.”

“It’s no bother. Alyssa said she’ll talk to you about this bodyguard thing.”

Brady wondered if the Ice Princess was paranoid.

“Okay, and Brady?” Jane sounded worried.

“Yeah.”

“Make sure you don’t ask why she’s no longer a police officer.”

“Okay.” He could do that. He wasn’t sure Mildred would be so accommodating.

“It’s me again,” Tom said. “Jane’s sending you Alyssa’s number now.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope. Listen, I’m really sorry I kept bothering you on the day you got back from your honeymoon.”

Tom chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. At least you waited until we were home. My brothers didn’t even do that.”

“Everything okay?”

“It will be. See you at the game?”

“I’ll try to be there. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Brady disconnected the call, found Jane’s text, and dialed Alyssa Montgomery.

She picked up on the first ring, her voice cool. “Hello, Brady.”

“Alyssa. Thanks for taking my call.”

“Jane assured me this is a business matter. Is that correct?”

“It is.” Brady had no doubt that she would have hung up on him if he’d been calling for any other reason. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in a job.”

“Tell me about it.”

Brady quickly laid out all that had happened to Mildred Michelman.

“It does sound like she’s being targeted,” Alyssa agreed.

“Detective Smith seemed to think she needed protection.”

“He could be right.”

“But she’s refused to even entertain the notion of a male bodyguard.”

“What makes you think she’ll agree to my protection?”

“I’m hoping I can convince her.” He hesitated for a moment before revealing. “She has a soft spot for me.”

“Ahh, you flash those baby blues and lay on the charm and she’s putty in your hands just like any other woman?” Alyssa mocked.

“I think you give me too much credit.”

“I saw your date at the wedding,” she reminded him. “You seem to specialize in doting geriatrics.”

Brady winced. “That was Tom’s Aunt Ruby.”

“You were that hard up for a date, Stewart?”

“I was doing him a favor,” Brady informed her through gritted teeth.

“And I’ll do you the favor of meeting with your geriatric protectee. Think you can arrange it for tonight?”

“Let me call her and see.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

As soon as they disconnected, Brady called Mildred and convinced her to at least meet with Alyssa Montgomery.

By the time he’d called Alyssa back with the meeting details, the parking lot of the restaurant had filled and Busy Bea’s was living up to its reputation.

Amy’s right shoulder ached as she hefted the loaded serving tray up into the air, no doubt because of the swing she’d taken at Mildred’s would-be-mugger.