Once Upon A Marriage. Tara Taylor Quinn
rel="nofollow" href="#u61a07cb5-8994-5391-b57d-a6ba6443586a">CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELLIOTT TANNER WAS in trouble. There was no denying it. Sitting in his parked SUV outside a downtown Denver nightclub, waiting for a very spoiled, overly made up daddy’s girl to get bored and move on to her next hot spot, he tried to refrain from contemplating his utter stupidity.
Unfortunately the job he was on—babysitting said self-centered party girl—required no real effort, leaving him far too much possibility for losing the battle he was waging with a brain that just wouldn’t let go.
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this, Elliott.” Marie’s voice repeated itself in his brain—a replay of a conversation he’d had with the daughter of another client that afternoon. Difference being that Sailor Harcourt, tonight’s job, knew her parent had hired him to keep an eye out for her safety. Barbara Bustamante, Marie’s mother, adamantly refused to allow Elliott to let Marie, her daughter, know that she’d hired Tanner Security Services to watch over Marie.
He’d been hanging out at Marie’s coffee shop for over three months now. She’d gone through some tough times. Life changes. They’d talked. Become friends. But under false pretenses.
In fact, Marie thought Elliott was around to keep an eye on Liam Connelly—not only her best friend’s new husband, but also their business partner. Elliott had capitalized on Connelly’s circumstances, presenting himself as a bodyguard when the fraud scheme exposed at Liam’s father’s company was impacting Liam’s safety. It was the perfect way to be close to the situation and protect Marie without her knowing that he was watching out for her.
Gabrielle, Liam and Marie. Threefold. The name of the business they’d formed to purchase the old apartment building that was not only home to Marie’s coffee shop, but their home, as well. Threefold was also an apt description for the friendship forged in college that had made the three of them more like family to each other than their biological counterparts had been.
Cars passed. Groups of people moved down the sidewalk. A woman strolled alone in the balmy April weather. Not smart, no matter how nice this part of town was. Not after eleven on a Saturday night...
He’d taken on Liam as a paid client, albeit at a sub-rate fee, with the complete blessing of Barbara Bustamante, who had called him initially because Marie and her friend had just entered into the business deal with Liam, and Barbara had never trusted the Connelly heir. When threats and vandalism ensued just after the building purchase, Tanner had been present to ensure that no harm came to Liam—or to his two new business partners.
Keeping his gaze on the side door through which he’d instructed Miss Harcourt to travel to and from the club’s interior, Tanner rubbed a hand across his face in the darkness and groaned. While his association with Liam was somewhat convoluted—the other man assuming that his estranged father had sent Tanner to him through the elder Connelly’s own highly paid bodyguard—that particular subterfuge was only the beginning of Tanner’s troubles.
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this, Elliott.”
Liam Connelly’s father had not been charged in the Ponzi scheme that had robbed investors of millions, but his company, Connelly Investments, had been the conduit for the scheme. Run by his corporate attorney and closest friend, George Costas, who’d been charged by a grand jury but who was still adamantly asserting his innocence to the point that the public wasn’t sure who was misusing power and bullying by public persuasion and who was really the victim between the two men.
There’d been another couple of threatening letters left for Liam at Marie’s coffee shop, which was on the bottom floor of the apartment building the three friends owned. With Liam and Gabrielle now married and occupying three-quarters of the third floor, Marie was alone in her large second-floor apartment, and Barbara Bustamante insisted that Elliott maintain his cover and remain right where he was—on at least one daily surveillance of the apartment building and coffee shop, investigating Liam and staying on top of the investigation involving Liam’s father, while keeping tabs on Marie.
She was paying him well. He was holding the checks for now. Not comfortable with cashing them, the way he was feeling. Another reason why he was escorting the dilettante, Miss Harcourt, during her two-day visit to Denver. Her father, Rod, a man Tanner protected anytime he was in town, had specifically asked him to do so, believing her to be at risk simply for being born a Harcourt. Tanner needed to maintain his client base of paying jobs.
Tanner Security Services, a one-man fully licensed and accredited operation with a better than average reputation, wasn’t usually in the habit of babysitting. Or working for free.
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this, Elliott!”
Marie. Long blond hair came instantly to mind. Followed by those eyes. So filled with emotion. Always.
When he’d first met her, more than three months ago, the compassion he could read in those eyes—compassion for Liam, the man he’d been sent to investigate and protect her against—stabbed him in a way he’d never forget.
He’d wanted her to look at him that way.
And more, he’d wanted to make certain that no one, ever, caused her open heart to close up, to wall off in pain. He’d sworn to himself that he’d never let anyone hurt her.
Absurd.
He had no control over Marie’s heart. Who she gave it to. Or what they did with it.
He was just an overly large guy her mother had hired to protect her.
The door he was watching opened. Hand going immediately to the ignition, Elliott straightened. Lord knew where Miss High and Mighty would insist he take her next—as if he were her driver. His job was to see that she arrived safely.
Two couples emerged. Neither of the women was Sailor Harcourt.