Protecting the Heiress

“Well, I guess that means the meeting’s adjourned,” Robert proclaimed as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood.

Meeks followed Robert out the door when Mary said, “Not so fast, you two.”

Both men stopped where they stood and gave her their undivided attention.

Mary Walker had worked for the company for over twenty-five years, but she had been a close friend to the Blakes even longer. She had been their father’s assistant almost from the beginning, and her eldest daughter had even been the family’s go-to babysitter for the triplets. Mary was promoted to office manager right after Meeks had joined the firm, taking his father’s position upon his death, and had been like a second mother to him—to all of the staff, in fact.

She was small in stature, but her quiet strength and no-nonsense attitude made her an unstoppable force. When Mary spoke, Meeks listened.

Mary tossed her salt-and-pepper hair from her shoulders, stood to her full five-foot height and placed her hands on her hips. “Francine was right. I know it’s hard to believe, but the Blake women are strong and smart and can handle themselves,” she pointed out. “You don’t need to treat them like fragile dolls that need your constant supervision and protection. Your day of acting as their quasi bodyguard is over.”

Meeks smiled and raised his hands with palms facing Mary, a sign of surrender. “Mary, I was only trying to—”

“I know what you were doing. You’ve been doing it for years and you need to find another way to do it. Try the direct approach,” she advised, giving him a wide smile.

Mary was in her sixties, but with her caramel-colored skin still smooth and free of wrinkles, she looked twenty years younger and beautiful as ever. She picked up her coffee cup and files and left the men staring after her as she exited the conference room.

Meeks headed to his office without making eye contact with anyone he passed. His robotic movements, deep frown and tight jaw sent a clear message: Leave me the hell alone. He walked into his office and slammed the door behind him, but before he could even make it around his desk, his door opened, and there Robert stood.

“What?” Meeks snapped. He always held his tongue with Mary, but he didn’t have to with Robert.

“Don’t shoot,” Robert said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Meeks and Robert had been best friends since college, and at times, Meeks had been closer to Robert than his own brother. Robert and Meeks had started a technology company after graduation, and within a few years they’d sold it and made millions. With no concrete plans after the sale, Robert had agreed to join Meeks when he took over for his father after his death. While Meeks trusted Robert with his life and valued his opinions above most, he wasn’t in the mood for any of them at the moment.

“Don’t you have some work to do?” Meeks asked.

“Why don’t you two just get together already?” Robert asked as he folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “If nothing else, maybe you’ll get it out of your system.”

“What are you talking about?” Meeks asked as he sat in his chair behind his father’s antique cherrywood desk.

“You and Francine. You two have been doing this dance for a while now.” He pushed off the doorframe and entered the office, closing the door behind him. “First, you said she was too young for you. Then she’s the boss’s daughter—”

“She’s always been the boss’s daughter,” he declared.

“Then she’s basically you in a dress. There’s always something... In reality, you’re crazy about her. Hell, we all know you’re crazy about her. So do something about it already!”

“Cine and I are business partners. Period.”

Robert took the seat directly across from Meeks’s desk. “Which is why you were willing to walk away from a multimillion-dollar client? Because there was a remote possibility that Francine could be in danger?”

“Francine is the CEO of this company—an organization with a stellar worldwide reputation, which we all have worked hard for,” he said, stabbing his index finger into his desk. “This was a role she was groomed and destined for. Hell, she’s wanted it her whole life. She has no business working cases in the damn field. Didn’t we learn that lesson last year when she was almost shot by that irate husband we helped put away?” he yelled at his friend. “Or how about two months ago when she did get shot?” He threw up his hands. “She could have died, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t, and working cases is her choice...not yours,” he said, pointing at his friend. “Francine has been following in her father’s footsteps since she was a kid. Do you remember telling me that? We both know she’s more than qualified. Her and her sisters’ years of martial arts training from not only their father, but from several experts in the field, set them apart from most. They’re double black belts. Hell, Francine’s better at handling herself and a weapon—any type of weapon too, gun, knife, crossbow—than some of the men we have walking around here,” Robert said as he ran the back of his hand along his jawline. “Shit, if that asshole didn’t get the jump on her, she wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

Meeks stood and turned to stare out his windows. “Being better than some of the men around here didn’t stop her from getting shot now, did it? She could have died, man.”

“So this is about your personal feelings for Francine, and not her abilities as an agent or her position with the company?”

Meeks glared at Robert over his shoulder.

“Because if it is,” Robert tilted his head slightly, raised his eyebrows and pointed at him, “you ought to remember that danger is something we all face regularly. In fact, we all happily signed up for it, and Francine was the most eager of us all—a fact that we all knew from the first day she started working in the field five years ago.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Meeks mumbled, returning to his desk. “She was determined to show everyone that she was just as good as the men,” he admitted grudgingly. “Turns out she was better than most of them, too.”

Robert threw back his head and laughed. “We had to rethink our stance on a number of things, and she challenged us every step of the way. Remember when she insisted that everyone learn the ‘art,’” he said, using air quotes to emphasize his point. “...of handling knives and bows and arrows?”

“Yeah, or when they both had all the men learn some form of martial arts because they thought that boxing shouldn’t be the only hand-to-hand defense they knew.” Meeks smiled as he remembered Big Bob trying to master the roundhouse kick. He was surprised just how well the large man had handled that three-hundred-pound body of his.

“There’s not one thing she and Farrah can’t do. You do realize that Francine is the reason why the team is as strong as it is today, right?”

“I know. I just...” Meeks’s mind drifted for a moment.

Robert studied his friend before saying, “You know what happened with Jasmine wasn’t your fault—or Francine for that matter...right? You surround yourself with a lot of strong women, and you can’t blame yourself when they put themselves in harm’s way and end up getting hurt. You can’t protect them from themselves.”

“Don’t go there,” Meeks warned. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded how he’d let his relationship with Jasmine blind him to her reckless ambition, something he swore he’d never let happen again. “This has nothing to do with Jasmine. With regard to Cine, I’d be just as concerned about any of our agents if they acted as recklessly as she did last night,” he protested, all the while knowing his argument held no weight.

“Reckless? According to the debrief summary she did an excellent job—especially under the circumstances,” Robert countered.

“And hurt herself in the process, too,” Meeks shot back. “Not to mention, she had no backup.”

Robert stood and headed for the door. “Damn, man. It was a party! She had plenty of backup on the scene. Everyone wore those new alert watches that you insist we all needed.” He cracked open the door but gave a parting shot. “Our teams are the best at what they do, and they always have each other’s backs, especially when it comes to working with the Blake sisters. And working with Cine in particular, you always have to be on point.”

“Enough already, I get it. You think she’s a superhero,” Meeks said with a slight curve of his lips.

“Be careful. You don’t want to feel the wrath of those Blake women,” Robert said, giving his friend a half smile.

“Like you did with Farrah two months ago when she accused you of honing in on the Boyd case?” Meeks questioned.

“Exactly like that, especially since I wasn’t honing in on anything, remember? You sent me to Vegas to keep an eye on her just to prevent Francine from having to go do it. Man, was Farrah pissed.” Robert ran the back of his hand across his face.

“I wouldn’t put it exactly like that,” Meeks said, defending his choice to send Robert to Las Vegas so Francine wouldn’t feel the need to go. “I never did find out what happened between you two while you were there.”

“She didn’t need or want my help, but we got the job done anyway, and that’s all that matters. Besides, you know what they say. What happens in Vegas...” Robert laughed as he left Meeks’s office.

Meeks knew his friend was right. The Blake women had been trained by their father, former army ranger Frank Blake, and by all accounts, he was the best in the business. He’d been determined to build the best security organization in the country. He had every intention of making sure his girls were prepared to take over and ensure his legacy when the time was right. Still, Meeks knew firsthand that no matter how well you’d been trained and groomed, accidents happened and there were some things that were beyond your control. He would be damned if he let something happen to Francine Blake.

Chapter 4

Francine walked into her office with Farrah right behind her. She now held the corner office that had once been occupied by their father. It was as large as the living room in her apartment and full of happy memories captured in the many photographs plastered on every wall between expensive works of art. The oval-shaped mahogany-wood-and-glass-topped desk that she’d designed and made herself sat in the center of the room atop a rich, earth-toned Persian rug that spoke more to Francine’s style than the desk that had previously been used by their father.

While Francine may have hated her father’s old desk, she loved his soft leather wingback chair and matching sofa, so they both stayed. But the possession of her father’s that Francine prized the most was his massive book collection, a collection which was full of original works and first editions, along with several technical books that she reached for daily.

“Can you believe Meeks? Making this whole new client thing about me...about my being shot?” Francine complained as she began pacing the floor of her office. “Like I’m some helpless child that needs her hand held. What, I’m suddenly too fragile to handle myself? I did my time in the shrink’s chair after the shooting, at Dad’s insistence, mind you, and I’ve had no lingering effects. I was cleared to return to work. I don’t need Meeks trying to tell me what to do, too.”

Farrah smiled and sat quietly on the sofa.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m not capable of handling myself,” she said, making tracks across the plush carpet. “How many times have I laid his ass out during our workouts?”

Farrah crossed her legs and shot her sister a knowing look, and her smile grew wider.

“Okay, maybe he did let me win,” she conceded, “but he’s not your average man, either.”

“He’s not?” Farrah asked.

Francine stopped midstride and glared at her sister. “Farrah, aren’t you going to say anything about his behavior?”

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say, and you know it,” she said, crossing her arms under her breasts.

Francine rolled her eyes to the ceiling, released a deep breath and went to join her sister on the sofa. “What am I going to do about Meeks?” Francine asked as she laid her head on her sister’s shoulder.

“I told you what to do. Invite him up to your place for dinner and when he arrives, greet him wearing nothing but your combat boots. Channel your inner Miley...better yet, Beyoncé,” she said, laughing as she swerved her hips.

“What?” Francine asked, trying not to laugh.

“When’s the last time you had a little fun, anyway?” she asked.

Francine threw her head back and laughed so hard she could barely catch her breath. Farrah had always been the wild one out of the three of them; she had inherited her adventurous spirit from their father. She was beautiful and wasn’t afraid to admit that her looks could easily get her whatever she wanted. While all three triplets were brilliant overachievers, Farrah knew the fair skin and high cheekbones they inherited from their Italian mother and the luxurious jet-black hair, straight nose and chin they got from their African-American and Hispanic father gave her a superficial advantage against which she constantly had to fight.

“Thanks but I think I’ll pass. And my sex life is not a topic up for discussion.” Francine got up and returned to her desk. “Have you talked to Dad yet?” she asked.

Francine took a chocolate-covered almond Hershey’s Kiss from the crystal candy dish that sat on her desk. At the same time, her sister pulled out a half-eaten candy bar from her purse and took a bite.

“You’re still reaching for the chocolate whenever you get upset, I see,” Farrah said.

“Right back at you,” Francine replied, pointing to her sister’s candy bar.

“Nope, I save the ice cream for that. Right now, I’m just hungry,” Farrah said, biting into the bar.

“Whatever. About Dad...” Francine asked again.

“Yeah, I talked to him. You know, I never knew Dad could be so...so, I don’t even know,” she said, her voice rising several octaves.

“Farrah!” Francine hit the top of her desk with the palm of her hand. “Focus and tell me what happened.”

“Meeks is what happened. He and Robert, in fact,” she said.

“What?” Francine asked, throwing up her hands.

“They talked to Dad and—”

“When?”

“I’ll tell you if you stop interrupting me,” she said before taking another bite of her candy.

Francine closed her mouth, took her thumb and index finger and imitated turning an invisible lock on her lips. She then threw the imaginary key over her shoulder and glared at her sister.

“Thank you,” Farrah said. “Anyway, thanks to Meeks and Robert, Dad all of a sudden agreed that personal security for celebrities brought on too much risk. And before you break that lock and ask, yes, I reminded him of just how much revenue that part of our business has generated over the last two years, and that expanding to work with celebrities was the next natural step.” Farrah crossed her arms and legs. “I even reminded him that both Robert and Meeks were in favor of this division change until you got shot. We all know Meeks is making this personal when it should be about business. Mom has managed to keep Dad at bay for now, but if he manages to get the board to reconsider their decision and calls for a vote, we’re screwed.”

Francine had been able to convince her dad and the majority of the stockholders to give her one major celebrity client to prove that not only was this additional line of business profitable, but it also brought no extra danger to their team. Francine had been well on her way to selecting and perusing that client before she was shot. Fortunately Tiffany’s case had landed in her lap at the perfect opportunity.

“Damn! If that didn’t convince him, I’m not sure what will.” Francine sat forward, crossed her arms on her desk and laid down her head. “If we can’t convince Dad to change his mind, then we’ll be at a shareholder stalemate.”

“And let me remind you, sister dear, if that happens, the issue goes to the board for a decision.” Farrah laughed and slowly shook her head. “Dad may not be an attorney, but he sure as hell thinks like one. Making that thirteen-person board full of his friends, which he virtually controls, have the final say in any decisions that the six shareholders can’t resolve was brilliant.”

Francine raised her head. “Just one more thing you got from Dad,” Francine said.

Farrah smiled and flipped her hair. “What, my brilliance?”

Francine shook her head. “No, your sneakiness. So what do we do?” she asked, sitting up to reach for more candy.

“While I’m looking for some legal loopholes, you need to see how many board members you can convince to vote our way.”

“Well, there are thirteen votes, and the six shareholders are split down the middle.” Francine used her fingers to count off the votes. “So, of the outstanding seven members, I know we have Mom, Mary and Paul on our side. We either need to find a way to convince shareholder Matthew—”

“Not going to happen. Matthew always votes with Meeks...they’re brothers,” Farrah said.

“Or, we see if we can get one of Dad’s old business cronies or one of those Army Special Forces kids to take back their voting proxy and vote our way,” Francine countered.

“All right, what about his former business partner, the one who never leaves his house? What’s his name? Bass, Brick?”

“It’s Beck, Ronald Beck, but he’ll never go against Dad,” Francine said. “He and Eddie Mercado helped with the start-up funds for the business, remember? Dad’s made them a fortune. Hell, he’s made everybody a fortune.”

“So which of the remaining two board members, those Special Forces kids, do you think you could have a shot with—Dallas Walls or James Grayson?” Farrah asked.

“Neither. Their fathers were a part of Dad’s Special Forces group and he’s had their proxies for years. I don’t think either of them has ever even personally attended a board meeting. They run their own billion-dollar companies, after all,” Francine said.

“You’re right. Walls has that massive cattle ranch where he raises horses, and he also runs a string of steak houses. And Grayson owns the Grayson & Grayson Oil consortium with his sister. We’re just a blip on their radar.”

“Well, they inherited their seats from their dads. It’s not like it was something they sought out to do. What’s the deal with that, anyway?” Francine asked with a deep frown.

Farrah sat up straighter in her chair. “We’re a privately owned company and we can set up the board any way we want. As long as we stick to our established bylaws, we can—”

“That’s not what I mean, legal eagle,” Francine said, rolling her eyes. “I never really understood why Dad gave two seats on the board to the kids of two men that died before he even started the company.”

“According to Mom, Dad felt like he owed them. It’s a ranger thing. So, any ideas?” Farrah asked.

“Actually, Mom might be able to convince Mr. Mercado,” she said shyly.

Farrah’s eyes widened, and she nodded slowly.

Francine’s mother had told her girls that once upon a time, Eddie Mercado had had a crush on her. They’d even gone on a few dates before she’d met their father. Francine felt like it would be disloyal to her father to even ask her mother to approach the man themselves, even though her mother had assured them that their father had gotten past it years ago. They and Eddie had been friends and even business partners for years.

“Do you think Mom would do that?” Farrah asked, frowning. “I mean, voting against Dad with us is one thing. Going to an old boyfriend for help to do it is something different entirely.”

“What other choice do we have?”

“Anything but that. You know, if you’d just take Meeks to bed, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Farrah said, laughing and making her eyebrows dance.

Francine sighed. “If only it were that easy. Besides, Meeks has made it perfectly clear that the only interest he has in me is professional.”

Farrah threw her candy wrapper into the silver trash bin that sat at the corner of her sister’s desk. “You couldn’t tell that by his behavior, especially lately. In fact, ever since you were shot, he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you. Good thing he didn’t know you were ready to walk away from fieldwork before Dad had to retire. He’d never let you forget that and he’d find a way to use that knowledge to his advantage.”

“I know. Enough of this already,” Francine said as she stood and picked up her electronic tablet. “You did look over the case file, right?”

“Yep. I wonder what made Tiffany switch agencies anyway.” Farrah raised herself up off the sofa.

“Who cares?” Francine said.

“I do. It could be a factor in what we have to do for them.” Farrah placed her right hand on her hip.

“No...you’re just nosey,” Francine said.

“All right...that, too,” she agreed reluctantly. “By the way, have you started working on Felicia’s storage chest yet?”

“No, why?”

“I loved the sketch of it and I was hoping I could convince you to make me one, too,” Farrah said, giving her that cheeky smile she often used when she wanted something.

Francine laughed and shook her head. “Time to get back to business. I see you took your hair down,” Francine said, pointing at her sister’s head.

“Yeah, Meeks thought we shouldn’t confuse the client too much. Does Mr. Morgan know you’re part of a set of triplets?” Farrah asked sarcastically.

Francine laughed, picked up her phone and headed for the conference room attached to her office. “No, but what man you know wouldn’t want a couple of butt-kicking sisters in his life?”

Chapter 5

As expected, Bill Morgan’s and Tiffany Tanner’s eyes grew wide as the sisters entered the room. Francine smiled and extended her hand to their guests, who had risen from their seats. “Mr. Morgan. Tiffany. Nice to see you again. This is my sister and business partner, Farrah Blake. Farrah’s our chief legal officer, and she ensures that your, as well as our, legal rights and responsibilities are well protected. And from time to time, as in this instance, we work together and act as case leads.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Farrah said as Mr. Morgan took the hand she offered and gave it a small shake.

“That’s great news,” Mr. Morgan said on a sigh.

“Oh, my,” Tiffany said, flashing looks between the two women. “You’re twins... Identical.”

“Not quite identical, and we’re actually two-thirds of a set of triplets. When we were born, our eyes were all the same shade of green. As we grew, the color changed. Now we all have different eye colors. Mine are blue,” Farrah explained, fluttering her lashes. “Francine’s stayed green, and our baby sister Felicia has hazel eyes.”

“Wow. Does your other sister work here, too?” Tiffany asked as she took a seat at the end of the table closest to both the window and the door.

“No, she works in another industry. She’s a doctor, actually,” Francine said proudly. “I really don’t think our clients could take all of us working here.”

“Or our staff, for that matter,” Farrah added.

“It must be nice to have two other people in the world that you can depend on no matter what,” Tiffany said, sliding down farther into the chair, her wistful tone speaking more to the loneliness she felt at being an only child than any actual jealousy she had toward the sisters’ relationship. The twenty-one-year-old beauty pulled out her cell phone and began tapping her index finger on the screen as though she was suddenly disinterested in what was happening around her.

Francine and Farrah gave each other a knowing glance.

“Please sit,” Francine said to Mr. Morgan, who focused his blue-eyed gaze on his client. “This shouldn’t take very long. I just have a few follow-up questions for you.”

“No problem...whatever you need,” Mr. Morgan replied, taking a seat next to Tiffany. “We’re just happy you’ll be handling this case yourself.”