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She folded her arms across her torso. “So, you’re Abena’s new security detail.”
“I am,” he said, “but I can speak with my boss and have someone else assigned to Ms. Nkosi if you prefer.”
She smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m a big girl. I can handle seeing my ex-boyfriend a few times a week.”
“Thank you,” he said. “So, how long have you been working for Ms. Nkosi?”
“Two years. I quit my job at the marketing firm because I was over being the personal assistant to a bunch of assholes. I thought I might return to school and do something else, but then a friend of a friend knew Abena was looking for a new PA. I snagged an interview with her, and the rest is,” she shrugged, “history.”
“You enjoy it?” he asked.
“Very much. Abena is down to earth and not at all like a typical celebrity. She can be demanding and has high standards, but do your job well and keep your nose clean, and she’ll treat you well, and,” another smile crept onto her face, “she gives amazing Christmas bonuses. Treat yourself to a week’s holiday somewhere hot, amazing.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you’re doing something you enjoy. I remember how much you hated working for the marketing firm.”
“God, I really did,” she said. “How are Grayson, Cooper, and Wes? I imagine they’re all still single. None of them seemed like the settling down type.”
“Actually, they all have mates now.”
“You’re kidding,” Camilla said with a growl of surprise. “Even Wes?”
“Yes. All three are mated to humans. Cooper is engaged to be married.”
“Wow.” Camilla shook her head. “I thought the four of you would be lifelong bachelors. What about you? Are you -”
The door opened, and Abena joined them in the library again. “My apologies, Mr. Jameson.”
“It’s not a problem,” Boone said.
Abena studied the two of them before inhaling deeply and repeating her question. “Will we have a problem, Camilla?”
Camilla glanced at Boone before shaking her head. “No, Abena. No problem at all.”
CHAPTER 3
Boone’s front door opened before he could unlock it. His tiger made a startled chuff, and he stepped back as his nan’s physiotherapist pushed past him. The lion shifter was crying, and she growled at Boone when he reached out to snag her arm.
“Rebeccah, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“What’s wrong?” Rebeccah glared at him. “What’s fucking wrong is your grandmother is impossible! She scratched me. And that horrible little dog of hers tried to bite my leg!”
She showed him her torn pant leg before shoving up her sleeve so he could see the scratch from her inner elbow to her wrist. It was faint and not even bleeding, but Boone winced. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Rebeccah.”
“She refuses to do any of the exercises. She growls, hisses, and fights back when I try to do simple stretches on her, and,” Rebeccah’s face turned red, “she told me I smelled worse than a dead raccoon in a ditch.”
He grimaced. “Rebeccah, my nan is difficult, I know, but -”
“Difficult?” Rebeccah growled again, soft yellow fur appearing on her cheeks. “Your grandmother is a monster, Mr. Jameson. I quit!”
She stomped toward her car, and Boone hurried after her. “Rebeccah, please don’t quit. I’ll pay you double.”
She yanked open her car door and glared at him. “I’d rather starve to death than ever set foot in your house again, Mr. Jameson.”
She climbed into the car and, with a screech of tires, drove away. Boone scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Fuck me.”
Rebeccah was the third physiotherapist to quit, and he had an idea he was about to face the same problem he had with hiring a nurse. No one would work with his grandmother.
He stepped inside the house and winced when he heard his grandmother snarling and growling from her bedroom. He tossed his keys on the side table and hurried toward her room.
