Lila

The high heels of Lila's favorite red shoes echoed on the tile floor of Daniels Security Incorporated. Hurrying along beside her, Tish—Mr. Daniels personal assistant—gave her a nervous smile. She seemed a little twitchy to be working so close to such a high profile man. Lila fought a grin as she wondered what Tish must be good at for him to keep her around.

​​

"We're so glad you're here, Miss Farris. Even Mr. Daniels. I mean—especially Mr. Daniels." Her cheeks colored. Lila nodded like she hadn't been listening, scanning the clean, gold colored walls and high ceilings of the offices.

"Is Dane in this morning?"

"Yes," Tish said, like she wished she didn't have to.

Lila gave a grim smile. She had been careful to ask the question like she didn't care. But she cared. A lot. Dane Daniels, the CEO of Daniels Security Incorporated, was a walking legend and media mystery. It was rumored if the company went public this year he'd be a confirmed billionaire. All because he knew creative ways to keep rich women safe. Yet his public appearances were so few—and the words he spoke to journalists even fewer. Lila—her full, legal name was Delilah Farris—had been hired through a mutual contact. Her expertise was uncommon. But Dane Daniels must have already known that about her in order to hire her. She didn't do interviews either. She let her reputation speak for her.

Lila fought a frown. "Can I expect to finally meet him?" Tish's eyes went wide. Lila wanted to shake her. She was trying to be polite. But the girl was so damn nervous she was making Lila twitch!

Tish swallowed hard and nodded too quickly. "Yes, yes of course. First I'll show you your office, then you'll meet with Mr. Daniels and his—"

"What do you mean, no one answered the call?" A booming voice echoed down the hall. Lila stopped walking, startled. "Showing up is what we do. That's the only thing we do!" The voice was getting louder. Suddenly a door swung open just ahead of them and two massive men stepped out. Tish squeaked.

Lila's breath caught as Dane Daniels, the man whose picture she'd seen on countless websites and news reports, the real-life villain of Hollywood, stormed into the hallway. He was so tall he almost had to duck coming out of the door. The movement made his black hair fall into his eyes. His broad shoulders cut a sharp line in the perfect gray suit, just tight enough to cling to his biceps and thighs when he moved. His long legs ate up the space between them as he stalked the hallway, eyes narrowed and chiseled jaw tight. He threw an arm wide and yelled at the man walking behind him, "The one thing, the one thing we do! And she's telling the world we didn't do it. Do you have any idea—"

"She's only saying it to get back at me," the guy behind Dane Daniels growled. Not as tall as Dane, but even broader, he dressed far more casually. But his light brown hair and light eyes were highlighted by the dark jeans and black leather jacket he wore like they were a second skin.

Although they looked almost nothing alike, they wore identical scowls, and the easy comfort Dane had about being close to this man told Lila he had to be Dane's brother, Christian. The Security Director for Daniels Security. And apparently the reason they'd needed to hire her.

"I don't care what got her panties in a twist, she's going to kill our business and you're walking in here like it's joke."

"Uh, Mr. D-Daniels," Tish said, but so quietly he didn't even seem to notice.

"Do you want this place to burn down around us?" Dane stopped just ahead, turning to face his brother.

"Mr. Daniels—"

"Of course not," Christian snapped. "But I'm also not going to panic—"

"No, because it isn't your ass on the line if the entire company falls down!"

"Mr. Daniels!" Tish shouted.

"WHAT?" he roared, whirling to face us.

The poor girl cowered at the rage on his handsome face. But Lila had had enough.

"Mr. Daniels? Dane Daniels?" she said, her voice far too sweet to be genuine.

His lips twisted into a sneer as looked between her and Tish. "Who are you?" he asked rudely.

Lila blinked. She didn't expect the people here to treat her like she was special. While she was well known for helping rich and powerful people fix their scandals, her name wasn't shouted on magazine covers. Rather, it was whispered in nervous corners, or over conference tables. But he'd hired her. Surely he knew who she was?

"Delilah Farris," she said, holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm here to help you with . . . your problem?"

"You're . . . what?" The snarling rage he'd already had went deathly quiet as he turned on his brother. "What is she doing here?"

Christian folded his massive arms. "I told you, we need her."

The muscles at the back of Dane's jaw twitched. He glared at his brother, then turned to me. "I'm sorry, Miss . . . ?"

"Farris," she said through her teeth. "Delilah. But you can call me Lila."

"I'm sorry, Miss Farris, but there's been a miscommunication. You aren't supposed to be here."

*****

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