Muriel Jensen - His Bodyguard

Meg held back a wince at her own recent proof of his claim.

Her father seemed to realize what he’d said and cast her a quick, apologetic glance.

She shrugged her forgiveness.

“We’re friends,” Ms. Boradino said. Then she seemed to reconsider. “Well, not precisely. I have trouble letting people get that close.” Then she glanced at Paul and at Meg, clearly startled that she’d admitted that much. She went on briskly. “He’s the finest man I know, as a businessman and as a human being, and I don’t want him to be hurt because of his own stubborn pride.” She seemed suddenly to notice the two halves of bread stick in her hands and dropped them onto her bread plate. Then she dusted off her fingers.

“He’s a toy manufacturer,” she said. “You’ve heard of Pike’s Pickled Pepper Toy Company?”

When Paul shook his head, Meg nodded. “Yes, you have, Dad. You bought that little boy next door the castle where you put the water in the moat and sea monsters go around in it. Remember? That was a Pike product.”

Ms. Boradino brightened. “That’s right. That was our bestseller last year.” She sobered again as quickly. “Competition for the toy market has always been very intense, but since the development of Amos’s Interactive Space Station, I’m afraid it could become...deadly.”

“Why do you say that?” Paul asked.

“It’s all been top secret, of course,” she replied calmly, though she fiddled nervously with a fork. “We even missed the February toy show in favor of this later one here in San Francisco. Amos needed to refine the software that comes with the station after NASA agreed to give him some data.” She put the fork down and met Paul’s eyes, then Meg’s. “There was a mysterious fire at our factory and a break-in at our office, and Amos was mugged by four men in his condo’s parking garage. Fortunately, one of the other residents was returning with a couple of friends and the muggers took off. I think someone was out to get the designs for the station, so Amos finally hid them. Even I don’t know what he’s done with them, or with the prototype.”

“But why the muggers?” Meg asked. “Did they think he had the plans on him?”

“Perhaps,” Ms. Boradino replied. “Or maybe it was just...revenge.”

“But that’s getting pretty personal for a business intrigue.”

Ms. Boradino spread her hands. “That was what made me suspect Jillian Chambers.”

Meg nodded, waiting for her to explain.

“She’s the CEO of Chayco Toys,” Ms. Boradino elaborated. “Pike’s only real competition in the toy market. She and Amos used to see each other—until Amos found her photographing his designs at his home one night after they’d...been together.” Ms. Boradino looked skeptical. “She still insists he misunderstood her intentions. That she was designing something similar and wanted to match the plan to hers to see if they could coordinate their designs for a joint project.”

Paul made a scornful sound. “Pretty thin excuse.”

“She’s been trying to get him back ever since,” Ms. Boradino continued, “but he doesn’t deal well with having been lied to or deceived.” She smiled wryly at Meg. “So you’ll have to be careful.”

The waiter arrived with a carafe of gewürztraminer and poured three glasses. When he left, Boradino said with a worried frown, “My real concern is that Jillian, who has always been high-strung and impulsive, has taken a dangerous turn. Her business is in trouble and I’m afraid she blames Amos for it. I wouldn’t be surprised if her intentions have changed from simply trying to get him back to ruining him. And everybody in the business is waiting to see the space station demonstrated at the upcoming toy show. The software allows a child to take trips from the space station in over a dozen directions, both factual and fictitious.”

Her voice had risen in excitement, but now fell as she added, “If Jillian can prevent him from being there with it, she can ruin him. It’s taken a great financial investment to get this far with it, and Amos has an electronics company waiting for the word to start production, depending on the reaction at the show.”

“Okay, you’re convinced the situation is desperate.” Meg leaned toward the woman. “Why is it so hard for Pike to see this? If there’s been a fire and a mugging and an attempt to copy his plans, and he still doesn’t want protection, I don’t see what we can do for him. When’s the toy show?”

“The weekend after the bachelor auction.”

Meg was confused. “What bachelor auction?”

“That’s part of the plan Ms. Boradino has come up with.” Paul raised his glass in a toast. “And it’s really rather a clever one. Shall we toast it?”

Boradino raised her glass to his.

Meg didn’t. “I think I’d like to hear the plan first.”

Paul lowered his glass with a shake of his head at their client. “Meg’s very methodical. Gets that from her mother. She’s never one to be surprised by the unknown, and exasperating as that can be for those of us in her personal life, it’s an invaluable quality in a bodyguard.”

Boradino, too, lowered her glass. “I understand completely.” She studied Meg a moment, as though measuring her ability to carry out whatever it was she had in mind. Then, apparently deciding Meg was capable, she went on to explain.

“I tried to hire bodyguards for Amos after the mugging, and he sent them away. His entire administrative staff has been worried about him. Without his knowledge, the men have taken turns following him home at night, watching his condo, watching the plant. Someone stays all night in the office.” She sighed, then smiled in self-deprecation. “We don’t really know what we’re doing, but we felt better knowing he had someone watching out for him. Then the Lost Springs Ranch for Boys called me about the bachelor auction they’re having this weekend. If they don’t get out of debt, they may have to sell out to a consortium. Amos spent eight years there as a child. They’ve invited back the former residents who are still single. I accepted for him without asking him first because a plan began to hatch in my head.”

Paul pointed a finger at his wineglass. “A plan worth toasting, Meg. If you bid on him and win, you can take him to the cabin on the lake until the toy show next weekend, and he won’t even know he’s being guarded.” To Boradino, he added in an aside, “My brother lived in Casper and he and I bought an old house together on Bluebell Lake in the Bighorns for fishing vacations.”

Meg considered her father’s plan and experienced very real trepidation. “Dad, what man would want to take off for a week to a cabin in the woods with a woman he’s never seen before? One who’s bought him at an auction!”

Paul laughed lightly. “Almost any man I can think of.”

“Dad...”

He put a hand over hers on the table. “Meggie, use your imagination. You can tell him you want fishing lessons, or a hiking companion, or you want to write a book about him. You can do this.”

That’s what he thought. She hadn’t shown him Daniel’s fax. What would a woman who was purported not to have a romantic bone in her body do with a successful young executive in a mountain cabin for a week?

Okay. There were a hundred creative answers to that question. But, those aside, what else could she do without making him suspicious?

“If you can’t help,” Boradino said, shamelessly placing the responsibility on Meg’s shoulders, “then I’m out of ideas. I don’t know where to turn. You’re the only chance we have of keeping him safe.”

Meg put a hand to her forehead, where a throbbing pain had beaten since she’d made the call from the courthouse to Daniel’s law office two days ago. Another drumming had begun in counterpoint. “What kind of scenario could I possibly make believable? I can’t pass myself off as an heiress. I just don’t have the...” She didn’t know what it was. She just knew she didn’t have it.