Chapter One - Safety
After one last check of the house, Eva Jackson once again rearranged the vase of yellow roses that would greet potential buyers. The promise of a new beginning. She sure hoped the flowers would live up to the expectation she had. Surely there was someone that wanted to buy the house, have a new beginning in life. But after nearly three months on the market, she had yet been able to shift the damn thing.
"Trust me, if I could afford you, I'd buy you myself," she promised the empty house as she ran a finger along the table the vase was on. She knew that anyone – coworker or buyer – who overheard her speaking to a house as though it could speak back would thing she had gone off the deep end. But it was impossible not to. All houses had soul, especially ones that had been around more than fifty years.
The Victorian had, over the years, housed more people than she could count. The sellers had restored it to its original beauty. New paint on the outside, along with cheerful flowerbeds on either side of he steps leading to the porch. New paint and wallpaper on the inside, as well as woodwork that had been polished to a gleam. When she stood in the foyer, Eva had the feeling that at any moment a lady from the late nineteenth century would descent the stairs in all her finery.
She closed her eyes, imagining the clatter of children running through the house. The tittering of women seated in the living room, working on a quilt while gossiping about the neighbors. Rugged gentlemen apologizing for the dust on their clothes when they came home after a carriage race. How much laughter had this house seen? How many tears? Had it witnessed affairs? Weddings? Had the dining room been the scene of familial drama? Had the front door supported a tearful woman seeing her beloved off to war?
Yes, houses had soul. Generations of secrets that would never be revealed were contained within the walls. And it was up to her to encourage buyers to connect with the soul and add more to it.
She opened the front door, using a handkerchief to wipe any smudges from the beveled glass. The autumn afternoon was slightly overcast but warm for Connecticut. There was a chance of rain later. A gentle breeze ruffled the vibrant leaves scattered across the lawn and she smiled before turning to make sure everything was perfect.
Quaint Victorian stater home. Loads of potential for a growing family. The words in the ad placed in the local paper repeated in her mind as she moved through the downstairs area. She'd walked the house so many times she knew it well. After the fifth showing she'd contemplated telling the owners to wait and re-list when the market was better. But it would have done no good. They were adamant that it stay on the market until it was sold.
The floors, scarred from over a hundred years of footsteps, were now sealed and waxed to show off their beauty. The new appliances in the kitchen were modern but fit in with the décor. She paused in there, turning the platter of still-warm cookies a quarter of an inch. One step back to take in the effect, she nodded. The breakfast nook was one of her favorite spots in the house, the floral tablecloth she'd purchased set off the ruffled yellow curtains. Satisfied, she went upstairs. The runner on the staircase was new; the upstairs hall still held the faint aroma of paint. In front of the master bedroom was the one floorboard that creaked. Weak sunshine filtered through the lace curtains in the small bathroom, giving the white walls and claw-foot tub an ethereal glow. She double-checked the light over the enclosed stairs to the attic. Fully satisfied that the house was ready, she left the door ajar and turned to go downstairs.
Only to scream at the sight of a man at the top of the staircase.
"Holy shit, Eva," Nick Nemeth groaned. He pulled off his sunglasses, jaw working rapidly as he chewed his ever-present gum. He raised both eyebrows in alarm. "I'm not that hideous."
"You scared me." She folded her arms over her chest and scowled when he chuckled. "Ever since Stacy—"
"Relax. You were the one who left the door open while you wandered around. I closed it, by the way. You're welcome." He tucked his sunglasses in the breast pocket of his black suit jacket and smoothed his hands down the front. As though a bit of lint would dare land on him. Blue eyes sweeping over her, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "You're looking good, Eva."
She ignored the compliment. They were as natural to him as breathing. "What are you doing here?"
"I can't come by and wish my favorite realtor good luck with her open house?" He tilted his head. "What is it, the ninth showing now?"
Her eyes rolled as she snorted. "If you think you can just waltz in and lure buyers to something you're selling—"
"Would I do that to you? Really." He sounded insulted and stepped back when she moved to the stairs. She didn't miss the gallant sweep of his arm as she started down. "Have they gone down in price?"
"Are you interested in buying?" she asked in return, not bothering to spare him a glance as she went to the door. Glancing out, she saw a minivan pulling up behind Nick's silver Porsche.
"It's not really my taste.
Eva nodded, mentally preparing herself for the questions the couple climbing out of the van would have. She straightened her black skirt, made sure there were no visible stains on her blouse, and opened the door to welcome them. She recognized them from a recent showing. They were in search of the perfect home for their new family. The woman, she noted with a smile as she watched them stroll up the walk, was pregnant.
She knew their budget was tight, just as she knew the listed price was more than they could pay. But she guided them into the living room, lauding the improvements made to the house in recent years. Perhaps she could phone in a favor at the bank. Perhaps the owners would go down if the couple showed real interest.
Inviting them to look around and come to her if they had any questions, she left them in the kitchen and was surprised to find Nick lingering in the foyer. He leaned casually in the doorway leading to the living room, looking as though he had nowhere else to go.
"There's a lady upstairs. A pro. I didn't recognize her but she said she'd poke around on her own. Probably swooping in for the kill."
"Great," Eva muttered. It wasn't unheard of for other agents to take a look at houses that were near the end of their contract. She had done it herself more than once, using tactics her mentor had taught her to get a better deal. At the end of the day, a house selling was all that mattered. "If I don't unload it today, she can have it."
"I bet you'll have five offers before you lock up."
One eyebrow lifted. It wasn't like Nick to offer encouragement. Especially when he had been the one to swoop in and take a house from her. It had happened several times. Each time had ended with his treating her to dinner and a show in New York. His way of apologizing, she supposed. "How do I know you're not going to call the owners five minutes after I do with promises of a great deal?"
"I haven't done that in months," he scoffed, pushing off to follow her into the living room. "At least, not to you."
She shook her head, seating herself in front of the pigeon-hole desk next to the fireplace. Despite their banter, she was grateful for Nick's company. Even if he was vain, egotistical and a bit of a jerk, his presence provided a little security. He kept her from thinking of... No. She steeled herself against the thoughts and pretended to be interested in the screen of her phone, regarding him as he settled on the couch. He managed to look out of place but enviously comfortable. Taking in the slicked-back blonde hair, shaven jaw, and athletic figure, she could understand why he was a hot commodity among single realtors. He was good looking. Charming. He lived a wealthy lifestyle of expensive suits and fast cars. Always with a beautiful woman on his arm but rarely the same one more than twice.
Recalling the several dates they'd had over the past year she wondered why she'd let herself fall for him. Not in a romantic sense – any woman with half a brain knew better than to fall in love with Nick. She was a bit proud of herself for not allowing herself to fall into his bed. She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed that. He had a knack for making a woman feel desired. The kisses they'd shared had been more than a little arousing. But...
"Damn, if her tits jiggle like that now, I wonder how they jiggle when she's getting fucked?"
Eva blinked in surprise at the crude statement. Following his line of vision out the front window, she saw a young woman running down the sidewalk. All of her assets jiggled, enhanced by skintight workout clothes. Wrinkling her nose as Nick rose to get a better look, she fought a snort of annoyance.
That was why. True, it would be easy to crawl into bed with him and have tons of sex, but she wanted a man that wouldn't be planning for the next woman before she could untangle the sheets from her legs.
Rolling her eyes, she considered throwing something at him but refrained. It would only lead to more crass observations. She heard the thump of feet on the stairs and straightened, smiling when Mr. and Mrs. Collins walked into the living room. Was it her imagination or had Mrs. Collins' pregnancy grown more prominent in the past thirty minutes?
"We love it, Miss Jackson," the woman announced, beaming. Her eyes were full of hope as she looked around the living room. One hand rested on her belly. "And we want to make an offer now."
"Marvelous!" Eva enthused. Nick and his wandering eye forgotten, she rose and invited them to get comfortable on the couch.
Come hell or high water, she would sell this house today.
A quick look around the room and Vince McMahon knew he was in safe hands. He had no option but to increase security. He'd lost one member of staff – a friend no less – to a cold-hearted thug and had another harassed. All in the space of a week.
The security had come from all over, but mainly Connecticut and New York. He wanted the best and he could afford the best.
From the door of his office, he studied every man but one stood out to him. Casually he flicked through the pages of personal profiles he'd been sent and stared the picture of the man in question, making sure it was a match. The profile was bulked out with background history and experience and the top line caught his attention.
Typical Irish temper.
Perfect.
"Stephen Farrelly." He pointed to the man and beckoned him over. The man rose to his feet, capturing the attention of the room. The size of him was astonishing as was his history detailed out in his profile.
"Pleasure to meet yeh." They shook hands, a formality that left them silently battling for dominance. Vince had to admire that - it was exactly what he wanted in his new security men.
"Sit down." Vince gestured to the leather seat in front of his desk. "You sir, have quite possibly the most important job." He handed Stephen a plain brown folder then said, "Whatever you do, make sure nothing and no one hurts her."
Stephen nodded and swiftly took the folder, taking a peek inside. "May ah ask why?"
"Right now that doesn't matter." It didn't. He wanted all of his staff safe, but to keep them from asking unwanted questions, he had to treat everyone the same.
"Suspect everyone?" His tone was suspicious to say the least. Vince looked him dead in the eye and he could see the cogs turning in his head. Storing questions to ask about or more probably, find out himself.
"You can be assured that if I find out any more about this incident, you'll be briefed." Vince stood up with a groan, his joints aching with the cold weather. "She'll be showing this house tomorrow morning."
Vince handed over the details of the house that had been on the market for only a few days now. Only two blocks away from the frightful murder. No wonder the current occupiers wanted to move away and it would be a miracle if the place even got sold.
"The incident yeh speak of…" Vince nodded, fully expecting the question. He glanced down at his profile again, seeing that he'd been working in New York for the past 7 months.
Maybe he hadn't seen the papers or seen any of the news broadcasts since he'd arrived.
"Stacy Proctor, excellent realtor she was." Vince returned to his seat and leant back, "She was finishing up at an open house, about to leave then she was strangled." Forcing the words out was hard. It had shaken the neighbourhood, himself included and now he only wanted his employers to feel secure while they worked.
"Ah take it he's still out there?"
"Another worker was harassed two days ago, a passer-by scared him away though." Vince recalled the phone call he'd received from Angela. She'd been scared and shaken and hadn't returned to work since. "The police say they've had no new leads."
Vince looked to Stephen, very much aware that he had remained silent for most of the time in his company. "Ah'm no here to solve the murder, sir."
"Damn right you're not." Vince leant across the table and tapped harshly on the brown folder he'd given Stephen. "You're here to keep her safe!"
Briskly walking into the warmth of the McMahon Real Estate head office, Eva rubbed her hands together then lightly blew warm air onto them. She wished she'd worn gloves but the blue skies had misled her that morning. Maybe she'd have enough time to grab a cup of coffee before she had to leave again.
The receptionist greeted her with a wave, which Eva returned as she dashed by. Cold forgotten now she was assured she wouldn't get frostbite, she took the stairs to the upper floor where Mr. McMahon's office was located. She couldn't wait to tell him that the Collins' deal had been accepted. They would be meeting in the morning to do the paperwork.
"Is he in?" she asked the secretary stationed outside Mr. McMahon's office. The blonde nodded and opened her mouth to speak but Eva ignored her, striding forward to push the door open. "Bring in some coffee..."
The request died on her lips as she finally turned to look to the secretary and finally took note of the men waiting. Some were seated, but many stood. One leaned insolently against the wall, face impassive. She was fully aware of his eyeing her up and down. Pulling her coat tighter around her as though to shield herself from his perusal, she defiantly met his gaze. His lips curved into a knowing smirk and she felt overly warm.
"Coffee?" she requested of the secretary, her voice less firm than normal as the man continued to look at her. "I'll take it in to Vince."
Eva stepped forward towards as Maria left her desk to go make the coffee. Usually the office was a quiet place; she wouldn't say it was homely, but never before had she felt such tension around her. Her eyes skipped to each man, eventually landing on the man leant against the wall. He continued to look at her but his smirk had disappeared. Odd.
Why on earth would these men be here?
They all had similar builds – tall and very muscular. No way in hell were they all going to purchase a house.
Had she somehow walked onto a porn set? She blushed at the thought and immediately pushed it away. The man smirked again, obviously guessing the line of her thoughts. Eva glanced over him, taking in the black leather jacket over a snug gray henley. The buttons were undone. Dark jeans clung to his lower half, the front pockets bulging with what she assumed were his keys and cell phone. When her gaze swept upward again she saw his hands resting on his hips, one dark eyebrow lifted in question.
Her eyes landed on his nose. It was crooked, obviously from being broken, and added to the cynical expression on his face. Black hair was combed back from his face. One errant curl had dropped to his forehead, which crinkled as she continued to look at him.
She forced herself to look elsewhere. Would Maria ever fix the damn coffee?
Switching her stance, her feet shuffled on the carpet. Talk about feeling uncomfortable. From her position she could hear a couple of the men chatting away – something about a fat check and an easy amount of work. This had to be something involving Vince, surely. This methods of selling were often thought of as a little mad, but this was pushing the boat out.
Maria had now struck up a conversation with another colleague, the coffee long forgotten. Rolling her eyes she turned around, noting that the man once staring at her had disappeared. A quick 360 of the room and she couldn't see him. Strange how a man so big could be so sneaky.
Forgoing the coffee she turned on her heel and marched into Vince's office. He would explain what was going on. The door was still ajar from where she had pushed it open earlier so she nudged it further with her hip. "Vince, I finally unloaded that Victorian! We meet at the bank in the morning. And what the hell is going on with all the..."
Again her words faltered. Again she found herself looking at a strange man. This time, though, he was seated in the comfortable chair across from Vince's desk. And he wasn't staring at her as though she were the last juicy steak at a barbecue. Wetting her lips, she managed a smile and looked to her boss. Her mentor didn't seem perturbed at her barging in. Then again, he never seemed perturbed when she entered his office. If anything he looked relieved that she was there.
Clearing her throat, she decided to start again. "Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to give you the news. I'll go so you can get back to...whatever."
"Close the door and sit down," Vince said. His voice was gruff as always. He pointed to the empty chair next to the stranger. The stranger that was now standing and removing his cap.
A gentleman? She'd thought they were extinct. Following orders, she shut the door and moved to take a seat, pausing long enough to remove her coat and drape it over the back of the chair. "What's the story, Vince? Starting a bodybuilder's strip club?"
Eva laughed only to be greeted by silence. Her gaze flickered to the stranger and then back to Vince.
"We might as well get this over with now. Eva, meet Stephen Farrelly." Eva turned to the man again who stared back at her, expressionless as if he possessed no ounce of feelings or emotions. "He'll be securing open houses with you and generally making sure everything's safe."
"And the men outside-"
"Will be working with other members of staff." Eva could only nod as Vince smiled her way. Was all of this really necessary? She wasn't about to question his decision though.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Stephen looking through a folder on the table, then looking to her. Leaning forward, the picture on the piece of paper became clearer. It was her, looking terribly tired, dishevelled and quite a few pounds over her current weight. "You couldn't have used a better picture?"
Reaching for the file, Eva had every intention of snatching it away and burning it, never to be seen again. Stephen however had other ideas. Before her fingertips could grasp the edge of the file, his hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her hand away. It was strong and tight but most of all she noticed the warmth.
"Ah'll see to gettin' it replaced with a new one." Stephen drawled out slowly. Eva's heart almost leapt out of her chest. Never in a million years did she expect to match him with that accent. So he was from Ireland? But what the hell was he doing in America, working with her no less.
"Please do," she managed. She looked down to where his hand still clasped her wrist. "You can let go now. I promise not to try grabbing things from you again."
"Right." He smiled. It was brief but she noticed it, as well as a surge of warmth when his grip loosened. She was aware of the gentle sweep of each finger over the back of her hand as he pulled away and was tempted to reach for the photo to feel his touch again. Instead she rested her hands in her lap.
Eva looked to Vince, primly crossing her legs and tugging on her skirt to ensure her modesty. Clasping her restless hands over her knees she met Vince's gaze. "I take it he'll be meeting me at showings?"
"No." Vince straightened his tie and rested his elbows on the desk. "Stephen will be accompanying you to open houses, meetings at the bank, and wherever you need to go that is not in the office."
"Is that necessary? I can't get business done with the Incredible Hulk breathing down my neck," she stated, glancing to Stephen. "No offense."
Stephen held his hands up as if to say none taken but he didn't utter anything. Vince however had other ideas.
"Do I need to remind you about Stacy? And what about Angela? She's still terrified to come back to work." Eva nodded as he continued his tirade, so maybe he had a point. "I want you and every other worker to know that their safety is a priority, got that?"
Thoroughly chastised, she looked down at her hands. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, please show him around the building. I've given him your address, so he'll be escorting you to the bank. He's going to keep you safe." Vince shot a hard look at Stephen then muttered, "if he knows what's good for him."
That made her smile. Curmudgeon that he was, Vince's number one priority was creating a welcoming work environment. She recalled his angry tirade after Stacy's murder, and the tears of anguish at the woman's funeral. He really was the best boss a woman could have. She would have gone around and hugged him if she knew he wouldn't fuss at her for doing so.
Getting to her feet, she reached for her coat. But it had already been retrieved, and was draped over Stephen's thick arm. He was already standing. "Very well. I'll put my things in my office then give you a tour."
A/N: Surprise! Though I'm sure none of you are as shocked as I was when the fabulous Lou suggested we co-write a fic. Trust me when I say that I've pinched myself several times since to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And now the asskissing is over (for now)...
It is our hope that you all enjoy this new venture. Please let us know what you think! We love you all! (Josie & Lou)