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Authors: Camy Tang

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BOOK: Protection for Hire
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He continued, “Like I said, she’s smarter than she looks. She’s gotten out of her leash once or twice.”

“How long do you walk her?”

“About thirty minutes in the morning, and thirty minutes in the late afternoon. She’s pretty good about heeling by your side.”

A dog. They were talking about Aloisius taking care of Richmond’s dog.

Tessa’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

She was still holding his wrist.

He covered her hand with his. Her skin was soft and smooth, and he traced her delicate knuckles, the webbing between her fingers. Her grip on his wrist tightened. Her eyes darkened as they looked up at him.

He was going to kiss her. He shouldn’t, for a dozen reasons he couldn’t remember right now. But he had to kiss her. He’d die if he didn’t.

“So when’re they coming?” Richmond asked.

“Any minute now,” Aloisius said.

“Keep them out of sight. I already had to field a few questions about them. How do people find out about investors? Who’s leaking identities?”

Investors. Was this about their latest investment?

“Remind me again who’s who?” Richmond said. “I keep getting them mixed up. Darn Chinese names.”

Tessa tensed. She pulled her hand away from Charles and leaned closer to hear.

“Wang is one you’ve talked to the most. Chang is the accountant. Yang and Ong will be here tonight to represent the Tong family …”

Her mouth dropped open. She stuffed her fist into it, but her eyes were wide as they looked at Charles.

“We have to get out of here,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Triad members — Chinese mafia — are coming here tonight.”

Chapter 24

S
he wouldn’t be in this situation if she hadn’t shot Tommy

Ong in both kneecaps. Tessa grabbed Charles’s hand and pulled him away from the pillar they’d been hiding behind. They had to get out of the ballroom before the Triad members arrived.

“But you’re Japanese,” Charles said to her as they dodged waiters with trays of champagne. “They’re Chinese.”

“I had a skirmish with them years ago.” Tessa headed through a door marked “Employees Only” which led to a wide, spare hallway. She guessed it would take them to the kitchens. “Tommy Ong interrupted a —” She’d almost said
drug run.
“ — errand I was on with some other yakuza. I was alone, keeping an eye out for … visitors. He’d just come out of a bar or a party, filled to the brim. He tried to flirt with me, but when I refused him, he tried to rape me.”

“What? Wait.” Charles grabbed her wrist to stop her. They paused in the middle of the hallway, while a waiter or two passed them carrying trays. “Did he know who you were?”

“Oh, he knew. Which is why I got so mad. I shoved him
off me. When he grabbed me again, I punched him in the nose, pulled my gun, and shot him in the knees.”

She said it so calmly. A part of her was sad that back then such violence hadn’t been unusual for her, and that even now the memories were muted because, at the time, her conscience had been seared.

“But he was Triad,” Charles said.

Tessa nodded.

“What did your uncle do?”

“Tommy Ong is second cousin to a Triad leader, but I’m niece to Teruo Ota. The insult to Uncle Teruo was greater than the insult to Tommy.”

“Insult to Tommy? He attacked you.”

“It didn’t matter —
women
don’t matter. But attacking a close blood relation of the yakuza boss — male or female — was unforgivable. Uncle Teruo talked with them and nothing happened, but the Ongs have never forgiven me. Tommy walks with a cane.”

She turned away from him so she could grab her cell phone where it had been wedged under her dress bodice. She and Josh had exchanged cell phone numbers earlier — he had insisted they do so in case something happened, although at the time she hadn’t really thought anything would. The act of exchanging numbers seemed to make him more excited about helping her, so she’d agreed. Now she was glad of it. She texted him:
Have to leave asap. I’ll call u.

She grabbed Charles’s hand. “We can get out of here through the kitchens.”

They entered into the kitchen area, suddenly engulfed in the busy sounds of the staff preparing the hors d’oeuvres for
the party. They shimmied around kitchen assistants and cooks at the sinks and various worktables. Several gave them annoyed looks, but no one bothered to stop them — no one had the time, it seemed, as the staff rushed to get the food out to the guests. The kitchen was long and narrow, so they had to wend their way down to the far end to reach the doors that would lead out to the back exit of the building.

They were only a few yards from the back door of the kitchen when it swung open and five men in business suits walked in.

Five Chinese men.

She started, which made the blonde curls of her wig dance in front of her eyes. Calm down, she told herself. They won’t recognize you.

Why hadn’t they come in through the front doors of the ballroom? They weren’t Triad leaders — she’d have recognized them on sight — so why this secrecy? She grabbed Charles’s hand, lowered her eyes, and started walking.

No shouts. No threatening movements. The men paused when they saw Tessa and Charles, but then kept going, probably assuming the two of them were off for a rendezvous.

The skin all over her arms and legs tingled. She felt the breeze when the first man — a large, hulking figure like a sumo wrestler — strode past. She grasped the fabric of her skirt in her hands, bunching it in her fingers.

Two, three … they passed each man.

Then the fourth man slowed. Looked at her.

It was Dave Ong. Tommy’s cousin.

Pretend you don’t know him.
She shifted her gaze away and kept moving. Just a few more feet …

She had almost passed him when he reached out, grabbed her wig, and yanked.

Tessa snatched up a heavy stone mortar someone had left on the table next to her and swung it at Dave before his hand could drop the wig. The edge clocked him above the eye, and he howled and curled away from her.

“Run!” she shouted to Charles. Any kitchen staff nearby either ducked or scattered.

The fifth man, following behind Dave, had frozen in surprise, but he belatedly tried to grab at Charles as he ran past him. Tessa picked up a footed metal strainer and jabbed at his eyes. She delivered a front kick to his stomach that sent him to the ground.

The man in front of Dave reacted quicker. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a gun, but Tessa shot her leg out in a short diagonal kick that knocked it from his hand.

He fumbled for a knife on the table beside him. Tessa grabbed a metal tray of puff pastry tarts and brought the shield up just as he stabbed the knife down at her head. The impact jarred her wrists and elbows, and the knife blade skidded off the surface of the tray to the side, leaving a deep dent in its path.

With his arm now across his body, leaving his head unprotected, she smashed the edge of the tray at his face. He stumbled back, losing his grip on the knife and grabbing his nose.

Tessa ducked and sprinted for the door as a gunshot thundered in the low-ceilinged room. Ahead of her, a few of the tiles on the wall shattered in puffs of powder as bullets hit.

In trying to make the turn to head out the back door, she skidded on the slick floor and fell. But suddenly Charles was there, reaching down for her hand, pulling her to her feet and out the door.

She ran as best she could in heels, but the men behind them were too close for her to pause to pull them off. They burst out
the back exit of the building and stumbled down a short flight of stairs into an alley. Would the men use their guns out here?

Charles dragged her to the street and barely hesitated before streaking out into traffic.

A car skidded, and Charles put a hand out, but it stopped inches from them. They kept going. Another car zipped down the lane, and after it had passed they darted out to a cacophony of blaring horns. Another lane, and they were across the street.

Tessa looked back and saw three men on the other side, but they weren’t pursuing them. Dave Ong’s hateful eyes met hers across the lanes of racing cars.

Tessa knew that this time, the Ongs would make sure she paid.

Then Charles was pulling her, shoving her into a taxi, and they were away.

They sat, side by side, for several long minutes, breaths heaving. Queasiness lay heavy in her stomach.

She’d been afraid in a way she hadn’t felt in years. She’d been afraid for Charles, for herself. Before, she’d blithely believed she was invincible. But tonight in that kitchen she’d been abruptly aware that her life was like a breath, that she or Charles could be shot and killed, that she was like a flower of the field, here today and gone tomorrow.

And then, suddenly, she started to cry.

She hadn’t cried after a fight since the grade school skirmishes where kids would taunt her because of her family connections to underground crime. Alicia either crumpled into a tearful heap or tried to ignore the abuse, but Tessa fought back — which led to Uncle Teruo enrolling her in martial arts classes. In those classes, she learned how to fight calmly, how to center herself, how to focus herself.

Lot of good that was now.

The tears came in heaving sobs that pulled at her stomach muscles. And then Charles’s arms were around her, pressing her face into his tuxedo jacket.

He was warm and solid. His arms gathered her close, made her feel protected.

“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s over. I’ve got you.”

Which only made her cry harder.

She cried until she was used up, and still Charles held her long after the tears had dried on her cheeks, one hand smoothing her back, the other holding her tight to him.

Her arms were around his torso, one cheek pressed to the smooth fabric of his shoulder. His head was bent, his face pressed to her other cheek, making her feel encased and sheltered.

And then she moved her head, and he moved his, and their lips met in between.

His lips tasted like lime. And relief. And tenderness. And just the faintest hint of desire. She never wanted him to stop kissing her. She never wanted him to stop holding her.

And he didn’t, for a long time.

A buzz vibrated against her breastbone. At first she thought Charles’s fingers were wandering, but then she realized it was her cell phone, still tucked into her bodice. Since it was encased in so much duct tape, it hadn’t fallen out.

She pulled away from him. Besides, she needed to blow her nose.

Pulling out the silk handkerchief tucked into Charles’s tuxedo pocket, she wiped her face as she dug in her dress for her phone with her other hand. When Charles’s eyes flickered to her chest, they immediately shot away, and she could feel the heat radiating from his neck.

She forgot that not everyone grew up as she did, thinking sex was just fun, interpersonal gymnastics. Some people actually grew up with morals.

She snagged her phone on the last ring, recognizing the number. “Josh?”

“Where are you?” he whispered.

“Where are you?”

“Hiding behind the chocolate table. That woman was
all over me.

“We ran into trouble.”


You
ran into trouble? Why couldn’t you have rescued me too?”

“Because that might have involved a bullet in your brain.”

“Oh. Well, what now?”

Tessa didn’t want Velma complaining to Desiree about her escort abandoning her for the evening, so she told Josh, “You need to find Velma —”

“No way!”

“ — and tell her that Charles got violently sick.”

There was a mutinous silence on the other end of the line.

“I’ll tell you where the bullet holes are in the kitchen,” Tessa said.

“Really?” he chirped. “Okay. Hang on …” In the background, she heard Velma’s low, hoarse voice getting louder and louder. Then Josh said, “Ms. Crackhea — er, Velma?”

“There you are,” Velma said. “You just disappeared. Who are you on the phone with?”

“I just got a call. It’s Theresa.”

Tessa instructed him, “Tell her that while we were dancing, Charles got really sick.”

“She’s asking me to tell you that while she was dancing with Charles, he got massively sick. Threw up all over her.”

“Oh.” There was a rather pleased note in Velma’s voice.

Tessa said, “Tell her that Charles had to leave.”

“She says that Charles had to leave. He didn’t want to throw up on you too.”

“And you’ll be happy to be her host for the rest of the evening.”

Silence.

“Bullet holes, Josh.” By the time the party ended, there wouldn’t be any danger to him if he wandered into the kitchen.

“I’ll be happy to be your host for the rest of tonight, Velma.” It sounded like he said it through his teeth.

“So kind of you,” Velma tittered. “But what about Theresa?”

“Oh, she can find her own way home.”

“Thanks, I owe you big time, Josh,” Tessa told him.

He hung up the phone.

Triads. A Triad gang was funding an investment with Stillwater Group.

“Elizabeth said she didn’t know anything about Heath’s business,” Tessa said.

“She must have seen something and didn’t realize it,” Charles said.

“Triads,” Tessa breathed. “No wonder Heath has been so desperate to shut her up.”

“Not Heath, his company. And they’re setting Heath up to take the fall for her murder.”

“Lucky for us, they haven’t hired very competent help so far,” Tessa said.

“Or Elizabeth just has an exceptional bodyguard.”

The compliment warmed her just as if he’d taken hold of
her hand. She realized she was still sitting close to him, almost snuggled against him, although he no longer had his arm around her. She knew she should move away, but she couldn’t get her limbs to unglue themselves from the warmth of his body.

She shouldn’t have kissed him. She shouldn’t have even allowed herself to be attracted to him.

That was like telling a woman with PMS not to eat a Snickers bar.

As the taxi circled back to the hotel so Charles could pick up his car, all she could think about was how much she wanted him to hold her again and make her feel safe.

They arrived at the hotel, and as they waited for the valet to get Charles’s car, she said, “I need you to take me to Sea Cliff.”

Charles’s body became still and tense. Yes, he would know what was in Sea Cliff. After all, he’d been at her trial.

“I should have thought of this sooner, before we sent the taxi away.” Except she’d been floating on a cloud, sitting next to Charles. “I’ll just flag another taxi down. Or the valet will do it for me.”

“Let’s talk to Elizabeth first.”

“No, I have to talk to him tonight. He needs to know right away.”

“Do you …” His jaw clenched, once. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I think it’s better if you don’t.”

He looked away from her, maybe to hide his relief. Then he said, “I’ll drive you.”

“Thanks. I’ll find my own way back to your house.”

They were silent the entire way as he drove her to the exclusive San Francisco neighborhood of Sea Cliff.

Charles didn’t need to ask her what the address was to the seaside home of her Uncle Teruo.

BOOK: Protection for Hire
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