“I’m not your friend,” she reminded them.
“No,” Megan said. “You’re our project. We figure if we pool our resources, we can turn you into a real human being—in a decade or two.”
“As delightful as this little chat is, it’s time for me to go do just about anything else.” Rachel gestured for them to move out of her way.
They didn’t.
“We realize you’re leaving Benson Security,” Megan said through the phone. “But we want you to know we’ll still be there for you. That’s what a girl crew’s all about. Ready, ladies?”
“Yes,” the three women called before enveloping Rachel in a group hug.
It was a nightmare. And she couldn’t even push them away because Isobel was pregnant and Julia bruised easily.
“I am going to kill you, Megan,” she promised through gritted teeth as the other women held her tight. “I’m going to take my gun and fill you with holes.”
“Not the way you shoot, you won’t.” With a laugh, the line went dead.
“Stop hugging me,” Rachel demanded, but of course, no one listened.
It was then Rachel began to wonder if her superpower of repelling people was faulty. Because a few years earlier, one withering look would have stopped this hug in its tracks.
“Girl power forever,” Isobel yelled.
“Dear Lord, save me from this hell,” Rachel prayed aloud.
Chapter Thirty
The entire TayFor complex was abuzz with speculation over the missing management staff. And an email sent out by the CEO did little to quash the gossip. In fact, it probably added to it, as it stated that Rachel had taken on a larger role to compensate for the sudden vacancies and that Harvard had been appointed as head of security, effective immediately.
Whether Harvard liked it or not, Rachel had just announced to the world—and her blackmailer—that she had no intention of heeding their demands.
“Does she want the arsewipe to go to the press with the photos?” Ryan asked from his position in Rachel’s outer office, where Harvard had told him to wait while he checked in with TayFor’s security team. “Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Hell, she’s practically daring them to do it. And how long do I have to play secretary to her highness?” He pointed at the pile of paperwork on the corner of the desk. “She’s making me do filing.”
Harvard checked his wristwatch. “Another hour and we’re done for the day. As your boss, I’m giving you permission to disappear early.”
“Thank fu—”
“Oh,” Samantha interrupted as she sailed into the room. “Does Rachel have two bodyguards now? Is she marrying you both?” She flashed a coy smile at Ryan. “She always did hoard all the goodies. Perhaps one of you could spend some time guarding this body instead?” She waved a hand down herself and, for a second, Harvard thought Ryan would start drooling.
“Is there something you wanted, Samantha?” Harvard asked.
“Yes.” Her smile was bright and very determined. “I’m taking Rachel to her appointment at the bridal boutique.”
“And that’s my cue to run.” Matching action to words, Ryan disappeared so fast you would have thought his ass was on fire.
Coward.
There was the sound of a collision and apologies in the corridor before Rachel’s mother appeared in the doorway. “I’m fine,” she said. “Almost got toppled by one of the guards, but I’m fine. Is she ready?”
“I haven’t managed to get to her yet to find out,” Samantha said.
“Hello, Harvard darling.” Francesca reached up to peck him on the cheek. “Be prepared for fireworks.” With that, she opened Rachel’s office door and disappeared inside. “Pack up,” she ordered. “We’re going to look at wedding dresses.”
“No, we’re not,” Rachel said from behind the desk she hated and was in the process of replacing.
“If you’re getting married, you need a dress.” There was no give in her mother’s voice, which made Harvard think he was getting a glimpse into Rachel’s youth. Only a strong woman would have been able to deal with a daughter like Rachel.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Then pick one for me. Any one you choose is fine. I’ll only be wearing it for an hour.”
“She’s always been terribly romantic,” Samantha said drolly.
“Rachel Mary Francesca Ford-Talbot, get up out of that chair this instant. I do not have the energy to deal with your tantrums today.” Her mother pointed at the door. “Out. Now.”
Harvard’s eyebrows shot straight up his head as he watched Rachel glare at her mother while doing exactly as she was told.
“It’s like watching an eclipse, isn’t it?” Samantha said. “You understand the mechanics, but it’s so bloody rare, you’re still in awe. Only Aunt Fran could ever do this with Rachel.”
“Don’t say a word,” Rachel ordered as she stalked past them. “Especially you.” She pointed at Samantha, who made a show of zipping her lips.
Then Sam grinned at Harvard before following Rachel out the door.
Francesca linked her arm through Harvard’s. “I assume you’re coming too.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “You know, you could be a Southern Mother. My mom would welcome you into the club any day. I’m in my thirties, and I’ve yet to say anything to her except ‘yes, ma’am’. She’d skin me alive if I disagreed with her.”
“You are delightful,” Francesca said as they made their way out of the building. “I’m glad she has you.”
“Rachel feels exactly the same way,” he told her, and she rewarded him with a grin.
Instead of settling back into the family business after a decade away, or chasing down her blackmailer with her team, Rachel was in a backstreet in Covent Garden, looking at wedding dresses. If ever there was a sign that the universe was against her, this was it.
“Isn’t this fun?” her mother said as they sat on a replica Louis the Fifteenth sofa, complete with gold-leafed legs and embroidered satin cushions. “I needed a diversion from your father and his constant whining about bacon. Is it possible to have a bacon addiction? Maybe I should find a rehabilitation facility for him.”
“Just buy him fake bacon and tell him it’s real,” Harvard called from behind the lush white velvet curtain that divided the fitting room from the waiting room. He sounded highly amused.
Her mother turned toward the curtain. “Didn’t I hear you swear you’d act as though you were invisible?” she reprimanded, earning a deep chuckle from the peanut gallery. “It’s bad enough we’ve brought the groom wedding dress shopping. The least you can do is pretend you aren’t here.”
“I’m not just her fiancé,” Harvard said. “I’m her bodyguard. I go where she goes.”
“Well, if she gets attacked by a bolt of lace, we’ll call you in.”
There was more deep chuckling from outside the dressing area.