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“Why would he do that?”
Palmer shrugged. “Who knows? Probably for looks, baby. Makes you look more important.”
He was lying. She could tell. She hated when he acted like she was stupid.
That wasn’t the real reason she had newly added security. Something was up, and she would find out what.
Standing in her ivory sleeveless blouse and tight linen skirt, she grabbed her Hermes bag and tossed her jacket over her arm.
“Is that what you're wearing?” Palmer’s eyes swept over her.
“Yes. Why?”
“That’s Chanel. Put the jacket on. It makes the outfit. And put on the pearls I gave you.”
Tinsley rolled her eyes but obediently dug them out of her bag. “Honestly, Palmer. It’s not me they’ll be looking at. What does it matter?”
He fastened the pearls around her throat, then held her jacket out for her. She slipped her arms in and turned, straightening it. “Am I acceptable now,darling?”
“Don’t be gauche. You know eyes will be on you, and you reflect on me now. Image is important in politics.”
Tinsley let out a huff and turned toward the exit. “Let’s just get this over with.”
They disembarked the jet, walking down the steps and crossing to the waiting limousine. For Palmer, it was a photo op, and not one to miss an opportunity, he stopped to reel in the attention and flashing cameras.
A reporter stuck a cell phone in his face, recording. “Mr. Pace, is there any truth to the rumor that you’ll be throwing your hat in the race for Blackmon’s soon-to-be-vacant senate seat?”
Palmer gave her an aw-shucks smile and winked. “You’ll have to wait and see, ma’am.”
“For how long?”
Another reporter pushed forward. “Is there any truth to the rumor you’ll announce at the Oilman’s Ball next month?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m late for an important meeting.”
Tinsley’s eyes shifted toward the waiting car as the new man moved to open the rear door for them. She slid her Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses over her eyes and walked that way, her head held high, like her mother always told her.Chin up, Tinsley, dear.
Through the dark glasses, she let her gaze roam over her new bodyguard. He really was gorgeous with his green eyes, sandy blond hair, and chiseled jaw. Plus, now that she was up close, she noticed he was much taller than she’d realized. She slid her sunglasses down an inch, meeting his eyes. “And you are?”
“Grady Steele, Miss Wyatt. Tri Star Securities. Your father hired us.”
“Us?” Her gaze scanned the tarmac.
“The firm. I’ll be your personal protection.”
“So, a bodyguard then?”
“Yes, if that’s how you want to look at it.”
“Is there another way?” She slid into the backseat and scooted over for Palmer, but the new man moved to get in the car with her.
Palmer stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Security rides in the car behind us.”
“Not anymore. I go where Miss Wyatt goes.”
“Listen, pal…”
“I’m not your pal, and I don’t work for you, Mr. Pace. This is Miss Wyatt’s ride, not yours.” He shoved Palmer’s hand away and slid into the car, sitting across from her.
