Dancing With Danger

By: Cristina Grenier



“Hello? Yes, this is he…”

He was silent for so long that Andrea was sure something had to be wrong. She sat up, wiping her fingers on the napkin in her lap, eyes intent on her brother. She knew that he had a dangerous job, guarding people’s safety and keeping them out of the line of fire or whatever else, and she worried about him constantly.

He’d been a police officer before he’d started his own security company, and she didn’t know why he was hell bent on doing things that could get him killed.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, I’d. I mean, yes, I’d love to come in for a meeting, absolutely. I can be there tomorrow if that’s not too soon. Excellent. Great. Yes, please just email me the address, and I’ll be there. Yes. Thank you so much. Have a good day.”

When he ended the call, he looked shell shocked, and Andrea tilted her head. “What is it?”

“That was Dorian Kingston. Well. His representative, anyway. Apparently something has made him be in the market for new security. A new head of security, to be exact.”

“Whoa,” Andrea said. “That’s a pretty big deal, right?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah. Especially since Dorian Kingston is arguably the richest person in the state right now.”

“Holy crap.”

“Right?” He got to his feet and started pacing the living room. “If I got it that would mean I’d have to give up my other clients, but I could refer them to other people. Or let some of my staff take them. I mean we still have to meet to make sure it’s a good fit, but god, a job like this would be amazing.”

“I’m happy for you,” Andrea said with a grin. “If he pays you an absurd amount of money, I expect to be spoiled appropriately.”

Ben snorted. “I think you’re confusing brothers and boyfriends. It’s not my job to spoil you.”

“Sure it is. I’m your little sister. That’s how these things work. I don’t make the rules, Ben, I just enforce them.”

He rolled his eyes and tweaked her nose, heading for the kitchen. “Either way, don’t get excited until I actually meet with him. It might not work out.”

“But you hope it will!” Andrea called after him. She hoped it would, too. He deserved good things.





***





Chapter 3: Hope on the Horizon



The downside to firing his entire security team was that he couldn’t leave the house until he got a new one. Carlos had been right when he’d said that it would be too dangerous, especially with the members of the syndicate knowing that their last plan had failed so spectacularly. Dorian was bored and felt like a caged animal, but he wasn’t stupid, and he definitely wasn’t taking any chances without someone to defend him if things went south.

“You look terribly sad,” Anita said as she came into the kitchen, breaking Dorian out of his daze. He supposed she had a point. Even if he wasn’t sad per se, sitting at the kitchen island and staring forlornly out the window with a cup of tea in his hands wasn’t convincing anyone that he was fine.

“I’m fine,” he said, because he always liked to try anyway.

Anita tutted and shook her head, pausing to rub his back soothingly before she moved over to the stove. “You are a terrible liar.”

Carlos had come with him from England, but Anita had been the first person hired to help run the new house in America. She was Carlos’ older sister, and a formidable woman. She was at least in her fifties, though she didn’t look it, her hair still a lustrous black, though it was shot through with a few silver strands. She had a solid, stocky form and reminded Dorian of someone’s grandmother, even though Carlos had assured him that she didn’t have any grandkids, or even any children.

You wouldn’t know it from the way she insisted on mothering him, but without a mother of his own, Dorian couldn’t deny that it was nice sometimes to have someone who was willing to take care of him.

For instance, Anita was already getting out the large mixing bowl that meant she would be making pancakes.

“Tell Anita what’s wrong, hm?” she said over her shoulder as she moved to the refrigerator. “And stop moping and come help.”

She never had any compunctions about putting him to work when he was in the kitchen, and since he loved to cook anyway, he didn’t have a problem with that.

Dorian finished off his tea and slid from the stool he’d been perched on, moving to take over cracking eggs into a separate bowl. Having his hands busy was always good when he was dangerously bored out of his mind.

“I’m bored,” he explained, trying very hard not to sound like he was whining. “I can’t go anywhere until I get a new team, and we’re doing the background checks in triplicate this time, so it’s taking forever.”

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