Page 33 of Missile Strike

A mistake.

Talia’s head lifted, her eyes narrowing. “Or did he?”

A sigh slipped out. “My father wants him to protect me, as well as the event.”

“Oh, Izzy.” Talia reached across the table and gave Isabella’s hand a squeeze. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re something more than a job. He’s being paid to stay close to you.”

Ouch.

But it was what she needed to hear. Talia always told her exactly what she thought and didn’t couch it in niceties.

“You’re right. I need to keep this strictly professional.”

So why did the words feel heavy on her tongue?

A change of subject was in order.

“While we were at the restaurant, a Charlotte Times reporter,” Isabella searched her brain for the woman’s name, “Olivia Flores, approached me about doing an interview—a behind-the-scenes look at organizing my dad’s re-election gala.”

Talia’s brows shot up. “I’ve read some of her stories. What did you say?”

“I told her Dad’s campaign manager would be a better option.” Another swallow of tea did little to ease the dryness in her throat. “You know I like to stay under the radar.”

“You don’t have to hide your light.” Talia shrugged. “And you can dictate what information you share with her. Think about it, at least.”

“I will.” She slipped back into her suit jacket and gathered up her purse. “We both need to get back to work.”

Talia glanced at her phone. “Yikes, we do. Do you want me to come over tonight to work on gala stuff with you?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Aren’t you lucky your best friend is willing to help out for free?”

“I am lucky.” Isabella hesitated. “Danny said he was coming to go over the guest list.”

Keep it professional.

“You know what?” She nodded. “I accept your offer. I’ll make dinner.”

“What about Danny?” Talia asked as they walked to Isabella’s car.

“I’ll email him the preliminary guest list. If he needs to discuss it with me, he can do it tomorrow.” She quickly locked away the twinge of disappointment at not seeing Danny tonight.

It was for the best.

“I’ll be over around six-thirty.” Talia smirked. “Bonus points if the hottie former SEAL shows up so I can inspect him.”

“I’m sure you’ll meet him eventually.” With a wave to her friend, Isabella got into her car. Before she lost her nerve, she shot off a text to Danny.

I’ve got plans with a friend tonight. I’ll email you the guest list, and if you have questions, we can discuss tomorrow.

As much as Talia wanted to meet Danny, keeping her past and present separate mattered. Isabella continued typing.

I’ll see you the day after tomorrow to do a final walkthrough of the venue.

Then she put her phone on silent, threw it into her purse, and drove back to work.

When the center screen on her dashboard lit up with an incoming phone call, then a text, she ignored them both.

Teeth clenched, Danny pumped out another set of arm curls in the hotel gym, using the burn to drown out the pounding in his temples, the acid churning beneath his ribs.

No response from Bella to his calls or texts.