“Hard to say. I didn’t notice an accent, but I imagine Canadians play fantasy football too. At least a few of them. It doesn’t matter, though. It’s clearly a bogus story.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask as I mentally review everything I know about the break-in. “Fantasy punishments have gotten out of hand. Apparently, SAT proctors don’t even blink an eye at middle-aged men showing up to take the test with a bunch of high schoolers anymore.”
“Yeah, but the season doesn’t end until next week.”
“Maybe she’s really bad?” I suggest.
Kelsey shrugs, using the toe of her right foot to spin herself side to side.
“I’m more worried about the comms,” she says, her tone indeed carrying a hint of concern in it.
“Do you think Juliet had something to do with them going down, or do you think she just got exceptionally lucky?”
Her eyes shift away from my face before she says, “No. I think she got lucky. I think…”
I wait for her to finish, but she just starts twirling that piece of hair, a dark one that she’s pulled from the back of her neck.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I’m…I’m worried my team did something wrong. The comms were our job. We checked them and doubled-checked them, but, no, I don’t think it was her.”
“It’s an awfully big coincidence. Too big of one for my comfort. Plus, I was with you when you checked everything. We never had one outage the entire last week.”
“Even if it was her, we clearly should’ve had a backup plan. It’s my job to make sure we have a plan for every contingency, and I didn’t even have one for the communication system with the guards going out.”
An ache grows in my chest with her admission. I know she guards that vulnerable part of her as closely as her clients. I push my hands through my hair, forcing myself not to go to her. Instead, I drop onto the edge of the couch that takes up one wall of the room. My eyes drift over Kelsey’s shoulder, staring at her highlighted profile in the mirror.
“You did have a plan, though,” I say. “You gave the order to reach out by phone. You made sure Jaxon was nowhere near here. You handled an unfortunate situation like a pro. And we both know you can do as much advanced planning as you want, but unfortunate situationsare still going to happen.”
We’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and a second later, it opens to reveal Jaxon, Henry, and, as luck would have it, Trent. Of course this would happen while he’s here.
Jaxon’s hair is still sweaty, his shirt damp from the workout he gets running all over the stage during his performance. He sits down next to me, one ankle crossed over the other knee, the arm away from me resting on the back of the couch. Henry stands against the wall near Kelsey in her chair. Trent stays in the middle of the room, spreading his feet and generally taking up the most space possible.
“Are you all right, Kelsey?” Henry asks.
“Fine,” she says, quickly dropping the tissue into her lap. “Just a minor scratch from an errant paint can.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“What happened out there?” Jaxon asks from next to me.
“The comms went out,” Kelsey says before giving a brief, professional recap of the events of the night.
“It never should’ve happened,” Trent chimes in when Kelsey reaches the end. “Maybe we need to handle the comms portion of the contract. We’ve never had earpieces go out before.”
“Well,” Jaxon says. “Kelsey’s team did handle the situation. She even took the woman down herself.”
As much as it made me want to strangle her for it.
The admiration in Jaxon’s eyes as he takes in Kelsey could be construed as platonic, but my gut doesn’t get that memo and starts churning with something that feels a lot like jealousy. I dismiss it. It must be the spark of rivalry Jaxon has forced between us.
“Yes,” Trent says, a fake mask of concern for Kelsey crossing his face. “A very valiant effort for sure. But the truth is, we should’ve never been in that situation. If the communications devices hadn’t short-circuited, there never would’ve been an issue. Ourmen”—I want to punch his face in for the emphasis, as if Kelsey took a paint can to the head because she was a woman—“are equipped to handle apprehension. But they can’t do that if they don’t know about the breach.”
“That’s true,” Kelsey says, looking past Trent to where Jaxon sits on the couch next to me. “I have no idea what caused the comms devices to go down, but I assure you I’ll look into it and have a solution before tomorrow’s show. This won’t happen again.”
Jaxon and his manager make eye contact, and it pains me to see Kelsey’s mask of calm professionalism slip briefly. In that second, I swear I see every one of her doubts cross her face. I know she’s questioning if she just lost the deal for her team.
I take a deep breath as if to say something, and Trent cuts me a look that clearly says “Stay the fuck out of this.” It crushes a piece of my soul, just like working at Mitchell Security every day does, but for my mom, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. So I say nothing—I don’t defend the fiercest, most intelligent woman I’ve ever met.
