Maybe he’d worked security for her before at one of the concert venues. That would make sense.
He’d be handsome, maybe, if he weren’t going to be the thorn in her side until she left for Miami after the—procedure.
She pushed that thought aside and watched him close the door, flip the deadbolt and then engage the chain-thingy.
After all that, his gaze finally settled on her. “This door should be triple-locked at all times when you’re inside.”
“Then you wouldn’t have been able to get in with your key, would you?” she challenged with a big dose of attitude.
His brows rose. “That’s the point.”
The cocky brute turned to face Dan.
“I’m Kyle Jones from GAPS. Is there someplace we can sit and talk about procedures? But before that, where should I stow my gear?”
He lifted his hand and for the first time she noticed the heavy-looking backpack he held. Proof he was staying. Moving in. Here. With her.
Her dread of that didn’t distract her from the fact this…this… Neanderthal misogynist had bypassed speaking with her completely, except for the scolding he’d given her about the door locks.
He’d gone directly to Dan to discuss business. As if Dan, as the male in the room, must be the one in charge. The only one he could talk business with.
The gall of his assumption got her up and off the sofa where she’d been very comfortable until he’d arrived. “Excuse me. I’m the one paying your salary. I’m the one you should be discussing this with. Not him.”
That brow crept up again over his eyes, which even through her rage she noted were a gorgeous blue rimmed with green.
“My boss told me the client instructed that I was to discuss the details with a Daniel Diaz and not bother the ‘talent’. Those were my orders.”
His use of air quotes around the word talent, as well as the complete lack of an apology from this Kyle Jones, would have really pissed her off.
But the bigger issue was that she believed what he said. It sounded like Daniel was up to his usual tricks. Cutting her out of major decisions that affected her life.
She turned to glare at Dan.
“What?” Dan asked in a tone that implied he believed he was right and she was wrong. As usual. “You don’t need to be involved in this conversation.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s my life. It’s my stalker. I was the one in the shower with him… or her.”
Kyle turned to focus on her. “You think it might be a woman?”
“No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” She shook her head. How had he confused her so easily, with one simple question? “The point is, I need to be in on these conversations that involve my life and my safety.”
“Fine. Handle it yourself then. I have plenty of other things I need to do.” With a glare, Dan stormed out of the room, leaving her alone with the stranger.
Great. This man she’d never met before was supposed to protect her from her stalker. But who would save her from her protector?
She didn’t know him. She didn’t like him.
Seriously, what guarantee did she have he wasn’t some deranged killer? None.
“Do you have any credentials?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest where she stood facing off with him.
“Credentials?” he parroted.
“Yes. ID. A badge. Something?”
His lips twitched. “No. No badge. But I’ve got this.” He took his time taking out his wallet and pulling out something. He held it out.
Since he was standing a good two yards from her, she was the one who had to go to him.
As she took what he held, he said, “For the record, I agree I should be dealing directly with you on this. I wanted to speak with you. But when I was told to only speak with your manager, I figured that order had come from you.”
This was her life. Had been her life since she’d been a child.
It didn’t matter she was an adult. She was still completely without autonomy. She’d gone from the television network dictating her every move then, to Dan and the label doing it now.
She barely absorbed the details of the credentials he’d handed her. All she knew was that it was a very official looking identification card and had his name and photo on it.
Besides, how easy was it to fake ID? Probably not all that hard.
Frustrated, she thrust it back at him with a huff.
“Tell me more details about this stalker in the bathroom. What did you see?” he asked.
“Nothing. I was behind the shower curtain.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“No. I had music playing.”
That brow rose again and made her want to hit him in the face with a pillow.
“Then how do you know there was anyone in there at all?” he asked.
“Because there was a message written in the steam on the mirror. That’s how,” she challenged his doubt with confidence.
“You do know that messages written in steam on mirrors stay there until the mirror is cleaned. They’ll disappear when the steam clears and reappear when the steam is back. How do you know it wasn’t written before you even checked into the room?”
She shook her head. “That message was not on the mirror when I went into the shower.”
“You know that for a fact?” he asked.
“Yes, because I let the hot water run until the mirror was all steamed up before I stepped into the shower. And yes, I’m one of those people. I let the water run until it’s steaming hot. I’m a water waster. Go ahead, judge me.” She glared at him, waiting.
He didn’t say anything. In fact, his lips actually twitched. Like he was fighting a smile. Laughing at her on the inside, which of course made her even more angry.
“I don’t particularly like that you’re acting as if this is nothing. Like I’m making a big deal for no reason or making this up. Why would I do that?” she asked.
He shrugged. “To get attention?”
Her eyes flew wide. “Is that what you think about me?”
“Honestly, I don’t,” he said.
She let out a huff. “You don’t what?”
“Think about you.” Kyle lifted a shoulder, making his statement even more enraging.
“Isn’t that exactly what I’m paying you for? To think about me and only me?” she demanded.
She needed to find out exactly how much she was paying for this man to be here to annoy her. It was definitely too much, whatever it was. Dan always did like to spend her money.
But more than the cost, she was starting to doubt this man would—or even could—protect her if it came right down to it.
“Actually,” he began. “You’re paying Guardian Angel Protection Services and they hired me to think about your stalker and how to stop them. So let’s get back to that, can we? I’d like to hear more about this bathroom incident. Was it here in this hotel?”
He glanced around them, first at the windows, then at the other doors in the suite.
As frustrating as he was, she answered, “No. It was before we came to New York.”
“Where were you when it happened?” he asked.
“Albany.”
He leveled a less-than-patient stare on her. “Albany is in New York.”