“Is that necessary?” Mr. Morgan questioned Meeks. “The way I understand it, you have better resources than most police departments across the country. Besides, we really don’t want the press to get wind of any of this. Why can’t you just handle this on your own?”
“You didn’t let me finish,” Meeks added. “I’ll see if he’s willing to make a house call and take the police report there. That way, there’s less of a chance of this news getting out. There are protocols with everything we do, and while we will do everything in our power to find the person that’s behind all this, our priority has to be to keep Tiffany...” he slid a glance at Francine, “and our team safe,” Meeks told Mr. Morgan, leaving no question as to his priorities.
“Having the police work with us on finding Tiffany’s stalker will hopefully make apprehending him that much easier,” Francine offered. “And the sooner we can put that person behind bars, the sooner we can get Tiffany settled into that routine we discussed earlier,” she reminded Mr. Morgan, who acknowledged her statement with a simple nod.
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that,” Tiffany said, making her way to the door. “The less publicity this thing generates, the better.”
“Farrah and Robert will see you out,” Francine said.
Farrah gave her sister a small nod and said, “After you,” to their guest.
Francine waited for the room to clear before she turned to pick up her tablet and found Meeks glaring at her. “What? Go ahead, say it. I’d hate for you to spontaneously combust from holding back,” she declared as she retreated to her office, knowing that he would follow.
“Are you crazy?” Meeks asked Francine as he followed her into her office. He closed the door behind him with enough force to make his point.
“Last time I checked I wasn’t, but let me check again,” Francine replied, tapping her index finger against her temple. “Nope...still not crazy.”
Meeks walked around her desk to stand in front of her with his arms folded across his heaving chest. “Then why the hell do you insist on doing crazy shit?”
She raised her chin and crossed her arms, matching his stance before asking, “What are you talking about, Meeks?”
“What am I—” He took a deep breath. “I’m talking about you taking the lead on this stalker case—a case that has danger written all over it. Especially with what we know now, our experience and your dumb luck, it is likely someone who’s familiar with our line of work! That’s what I’m talking about,” Meeks explained as he took another step closer to Francine.
Francine blew out a breath and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Not this again.”
Meeks took the final step forward that had them mere inches apart. She stared up into his eyes and dropped her hands to her sides. Meeks watched as her breathing escalated, as her breasts slowly rose and fell. He dropped his arms and fisted his hands at his sides to keep himself from reaching out to caress them. He could imagine the taste and the softness of them and grew hard. Francine held his gaze and bit down on her lower lip—another move that made things worse for him. The sexual tension in the air was like a fog circling around them.
After several moments of tense silence, Meeks couldn’t resist any longer. He raised his right hand and traced the tip of a finger slowly across Francine’s lower lip. The feel of her silk-like skin made his hand tremble slightly. He captured Francine’s chin in between his thumb and index finger, raising it slightly as he slowly began to lower his head and held her gaze.
Francine rose up on her tiptoes and wet her lips. The sight of Francine’s pink tongue nearly sent Meeks over the edge, and he leaned in to capture her mouth.
Knock, knock.
Farrah, as usual, had entered the office before being invited in. She stood smiling in the doorway and asked, “Excuse me...am I interrupting something?”
Francine and Meeks continued to stare at each other for several additional seconds before Meeks dropped his hand, straightened to his full height and said, “No...not at all.” Meeks gave both women a curt nod before making his exit.
* * *
When Meeks returned to his office, he closed his door and proceeded to bang his fist against it. “Shit! What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked himself, rubbing his knuckles. “Okay, so she looks exceptionally beautiful when she’s angry,” he mused aloud. “So what if she was just as turned on as you were? You know better. You could have made a big mistake.”
“You usually bang your fist against the door and talk to yourself? And who looked exceptionally beautiful?” a soft voice asked from behind him.
A wide smile spread across Meeks’s face before he turned around. “Hello, Mother,” he said as he walked forward and into his mother’s extended arms. “What brings you into the city? Did I miss an appointment?” Meeks kissed Constance Montgomery on both cheeks.
“How sad is that? A mother has to make an appointment to visit her own son,” Constance said, holding him at arm’s length. It was clear where Meeks had inherited his tall frame, fair skin and dark brown eyes.
Mother to Meeks and his younger brother Matthew, Constance had been a fixture at Blake & Montgomery when her husband was the company’s COO. Milton Montgomery joined his best friend and former army ranger buddy Frank Blake in his desire to build a corporate and personal protection security firm that rivaled no other. Together, they had worked hard for years, using their extensive military combat and weapons training and worldwide contacts to do just that.
While Constance never played an active role in the business, the stay-at-home mom made sure her family spent as much quality time together as possible, even if that meant piling the boys into the car and driving to the office to spend that time with their father. The boys had loved the on-site gym in particular, but more important, they loved family togetherness.
“Don’t start, Mother,” he teased, taking the hat and jacket she offered and placing them on his desk. “Scheduling times for visits was your brilliant idea, remember? You know you can drop by and see me whenever you like.”
She shook her head, the movement causing her stylish gray bob to release itself from behind her ears and frame her round face. “Yeah, right. And take a chance on you being out on some assignment? No, thank you.”
Meeks gave her a toothy grin. “So...what did I do to deserve this unexpected pleasure?”
“Better,” Constance said as she released her grip on her son and sat her tall frame eloquently into the chair facing Meeks’s desk.
Meeks followed suit and settled into the chair next to her.
“I came to town for my monthly lunch with Mary and Victoria,” she explained, crossing her legs at her ankles. “Victoria is meeting us at the restaurant, and since I was a little early to pick up Mary, I thought I’d stop in and say hello to one of my two favorite sons,” she explained as she fluffed out her hair.
“Well, that’s—”
“But enough of that,” she said, ignoring his attempt to respond. “Tell me why you were banging your fist against the door.” Constance clasped her hands and placed them in her lap. “And who’s incredibly beautiful when she’s angry, as if I don’t already know, and why was she angry?”
“Mother, I don’t—”
Constance held up her hand to stop his protest. “You might as well tell me, because you know I’ll get it out of you eventually. Is this about Francine?”
Meeks took a deep breath and sat up straighter in his chair. “It’s not that big of a deal. Francine and I had a slight disagreement