Page 61 of Faking Cinderella
I stare at him.
He stares back.
There’s definitely something else that he wants.
Something he’s not asking for.
And if it’s what I think it is—if it’s what I’d want to ask for—my respect for him is honestly growing.
It takes character of the kind that I’ll never have, no matter how much I try to be a good person, to have an opportunity to ask for revenge and not take it.
“You already have a security job,” I say. “With people like Jonas Rutherford to endorse you.”
“Resort security isn’t the same as executive protection.”
“You have all of the connections to get hired on Jonas’s personal team.”
He flinches.
Just barely, but enough that it’s noticeable.
So either he already asked and they said no, or he didn’t ask at all for some reason.
“What are your qualifications?” I ask.
“Experience and proximity.”
“Experience didn’t stop me from taking you down the night you got here.”
“I wasn’t on the clock.” He gives me a flat stare. “And normal people don’t hang bags of hair dye and rig flour explosions inside their front doors. Or have the strength to manhandle a cast-iron skillet as a weapon.”
I barely suppress a smile. “Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. It worked, didn’t it?”
He grunts an acknowledgment.
And is that a modicum of respect shining in his eyes?
I do believe it is.
Dammit.
Yes,dammit.
His respect for my methods makes me like the man more.
Much like my respect for his balls in attempting to blackmail me makes me like him more too.
I’m complicated like that.
“Why did you leave your last job in private security?” I ask.
“Personal reasons.”
“I don’t hire people without checking references, and I’ve dug enough to know it wasn’t that simple. So why don’t you spare both of us the trouble of me having to go the roundabout way of finding out what you don’t want to talk about?”
His jaw tics. “You already know my stepfather runs it, or else your team is shit.”
“Paper tells a different story from the human angle that’s always an element. Did he fire you, or did you quit?”
