Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Once I’d gotten to the garment selection, Landon had stayed near, but out of the way. As strangers maneuvered my body into the clothing, I tried to figure out how someone so different could blend in so perfectly. There had been a couple of times that I could have sworn I heard him growl when one of the male assistants got a little too close to my package—the very package he’d handled so damn well less than an hour ago.
Normally, I would have hated having to endure three separate catwalks in one day, but Landon brightened that part of my job as well. Time flew by and, even with the tenderness to my ass, my walks went wonderfully. Everyone congratulated me on a job well done and it didn’t sound like the usual lip service. I even had one of the designers talk to me directly, telling me that he’d like to meet with my team to discuss an all-exclusive contract. That was huge; designers rarely spoke directly to the models.
As the day progressed, the whispers started. They said my face glowed and there was a confidence in my swagger that normally wasn’t there. While they all started questioning whether I’d gotten a new handler, I knew exactly where all the changes came from—Landon. I’d just finished my last walk and was throwing on my street clothes, hustling because I couldn’t wait to return to the hotel and play with Landon some more, when I heard Landon mutter, “What the hell?” He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward the closest television. “What in the fucking hell?”
Landon and I watched and listened to the television…listened to my father stand in front of countless microphones and tell all of them about the threatening emails, even adding that another threat, the worst of all, had arrived earlier that day. Like a man emotionally separated from the subject he discussed, he proceeded to tell all of the reporters, in disgusting detail, what the latest threat had said. Finally, as if he suddenly realized he should be showing some sort of emotion when describing his only son being violated and murdered, on demand, crocodile tears began to flow down his face as he begged for privacy for all of us as we tried to determine the safest way to handle the situation.
A list of cuss words that would have made a sailor blush flew from Landon’s mouth as he stared, in shock, at the television screen. “Did you know anything about this?” he asked.
“Uh…no,” I snapped, not liking the tone of his voice. “I’ve been with you all day. How would I know anything about it?” Don’t get mad. Don’t let this shit ruin the best day of my life. Don’t let my father fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to me.
Without acknowledging my response, he whipped out his phone and punched in some numbers. Within seconds, I heard Sam’s voice on the other end of the line. Without even giving him a hello, she said, “What the fuck is going on there, Agent Honeycutt? You didn’t think I or Micah’s mother would need to know about another threat made against his life? You know better than that shit, Landon. Is your judgment that clouded right now?” A lot like me and my inability to stop talking or asking questions when I was nervous or upset, Sammie kept blasting Landon with one right after another. “You told me that I didn’t need to send in another agent, but I’m beginning to question that decision right now.”
“Slow your roll, Sam,” Landon snapped. “This is the first any of us has heard about another threat—from some goddamn television interview! What. The. Fuck.”
“He’s doing it for the attention,” I told Landon, saying it loud enough that Sammie could hear it, too. “He’s a firm believer in the theory that any publicity was good publicity. When he heard the positive comments about today’s walks, he decided to stick a big, fat cherry on top by releasing the information about the threats. It’s how his mind works.” I shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. There probably wasn’t even a new threat—just him garnering more attention.”
“What a fucking idiot,” Sammie murmured into the phone. “Don’t have any contact with him, Landon,” she ordered. “The last thing I need is you killing the bastard and then me having to find a way to make his body disappear. Just kidding. Kinda. Don’t go near him; you aren’t known for your patience, Agent Honeycutt. I’ll get all the intel on the latest threat, if there was one, and forward it to you immediately. You focus on getting Jinx to safety and keeping him there until tomorrow’s show.”
“His name is Micah,” Landon growled before disconnecting the phone. It made me smile that he remembered how I felt about the nickname and tried to get anyone outside the business to address me properly. Yeah, it made me smile and feel warm inside.