On the other hand…she was losing it.
Of course Hope had taken one look at her and gone into career-salvage mode.
Too bad Liana wasn’t sure she cared about salvaging anything.
She got up and went to the washroom. Splashed cold water on her face, then paced back and forth a few times in the hallway, her mortification growing with each step.
No. She did care about salvaging her reputation.
And first step in that direction would be going downstairs and apologizing.
“Go on now, make your peace,”she could practically hear Meemaw saying. So like a good southern girl, she squared her shoulder, checked her hair in the mirror, pursed her lips so they’d have some decent colour, and marched off to do the right thing.
She found them in the kitchen, and the man—Dean—was sitting with his back to her. She paused in the doorway, waiting for them to finish talking. Somehow he was even bigger when sitting down. He looked like he could take Track.
He looked like he could take an ox.
“Just give her some time,” Hope said. “I’ve handled this badly.”
“It sounds like an unexpected situation for the both of you. And we’re at your service. Really, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Liana said, moving forward. He turned around, pivoting quite gracefully for a giant. She gave him a smile that felt more natural than most she’d given in the last while. Not quite happy, but authentic at least. “Hello again,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sorry about before.”
He stood up—and up, and up. She wasn’t wearing any shoes, which made her five feet and a couple inches. She liked to pretend she was five and a half feet tall, but that took serious heels.
And he had at least a foot on her.
Yes, he would more than suffice as a bodyguard.
Ifshe was willing to go that route.
He nodded at her and gruffly but quietly returned her greeting. “Hello. I think the apology should be mine to make. I shouldn’t have been talking about you. I was just trying to get an understanding of the situation.”
She glanced at Hope. “What did you tell him?”
Her best friend gave her an unhappy smile. “Not much. I told him I don’t like Track and…I think you’ve been stressed since the start of the tour.”
Liana let out a quiet, unhappy laugh. “Yeah. I don’t like Track either.”
She didn’t answer the bit about the tour stress, because she didn’t feel like she had any right to complain about the best job in the entire world. Her newfound anxiety was a weakness she’d get a quiet handle on all by herself.
Dean sat back on his barstool, equalling out the height difference between them. He had an air of calm around him that belied the organic threat of his do-you-play-football?size, and his eyes were pretty gentle for a guy that looked like the rest of his face had been chiseled out of granite. And to his credit, he was focused on the here and now, and not the fact she’d hit on him the day before. “Let’s go back a few steps and introduce ourselves, maybe. I’m Dean. I’m a security guy, and Hope can vouch for me.”
“I’m Liana. I’m neurotic.”
He laughed, like for real. An out loud, straight teeth flashing chuckle that kept going and she found herself smiling again, too. This time not quite so ruefully.
“I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this.”
“No worries. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s complicated.”
He rocked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at Hope behind him. “That’s what she said. Complicated doesn’t scare me. How can I help?”
“I…” She trailed off.
Behind Dean, Hope stood up. “I’m going to go sit outside.”
