of course. I understand.” Peggy Jo nervously rubbed her hands together. “I promise that I’ll do my best to cooperate with you, as long as you remember that I’m your employer.”
“Meaning?” Jack knew damn well what she meant. She wanted him to agree that she was the boss. Heck, she could call herself whatever she wanted—employer, boss, the one in charge—as long as she realized that he was the expert and if he issued her an order, she’d damn well better obey it.
“Meaning just that. I’m the employer and you’re the employee. Our relationship is strictly business. No first names. No unnecessary familiarity.” Peggy Jo finally broke eye contact as she surveyed Jack from head to toe, leisurely, as if she were studying him under a microscope. “And as soon as the Dundee Agency has a female bodyguard available, I want you replaced.”
Jack laid his hand over his heart and sighed dramatically. “Oh, Miss Peggy Jo, you wound me, you do. You haven’t even given me a chance to prove my worth and already you’re talking about replacing me.”
“Cut the crap, Parker,” she said, her expression somber. “Your ‘aw shucks, ma’am’ attitude is wasted on me.”
“You’re one tough cookie, aren’t you, Miss Peggy Jo? Tell me, is ball-busting a second job for you or just a hobby?”
She gasped. The nerve of the man! How dare he speak to her that way. Just who did he think he was? Obviously, he didn’t know a damn thing about her or he would have realized that she didn’t take back talk from anyone—and never from a man!
“Let’s get one thing straight—” Peggy Jo punched the tip of her index finger into Jack’s chest “—if you make another remark like that, I’ll fire you and get Dundee to send me another agent. One with a more agreeable attitude.”
The man laughed. He actually laughed. Right in her face! She felt her skin burning, felt a heated flush creeping up her neck. He glanced down at where her finger hovered over his chest. When she jerked it away, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. A wild rush of adrenaline pumped through her body at his touch. Their gazes collided. She tugged to free herself, but he held tight.
“I apologize, Miss Peggy Jo,” he said, a warm, winning smile on his face. “I’m not usually such a jackass. As a matter of fact, I’m known for my Southern charm, but I figured charm wouldn’t work with you, so I tried a different tactic. Obviously, I made a mistake. So how about forgiving me and letting us start all over again?”
The pressure of his grip on her wrist lessened until she could have easily broken loose. But she didn’t. She stood there for an endless moment, their gazes locked, her breathing ragged, and allowed his statement to sink into her befuddled brain. She didn’t like the way this man made her feel—all soft and hot and feminine. And vulnerable.
“I think you switched tactics on me again, didn’t you?” When she pulled on her wrist, he released her. “If I have to choose between the jerk and the charmer, then I’ll take the charmer. But you’re right—all the charm in the world won’t work on me, Mr. Parker. I’m immune.”
“Does this mean you aren’t going to fire me?”
He was still grinning, damn him, as if he knew perfectly well that if she fired him after his sincere apology, then she’d have to admit to herself that she couldn’t stand her ground against him.
“No, I’m not firing you. But keep in mind that I can dismiss you at any time.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her and clicked his heels.
“So, now what?” she asked.
“We start by going over some ground rules,” he replied, a mischievous twinkle in his golden-brown eyes. “My ground rules.”
Before Peggy Jo could comment, she looked past Jack to where Ross Brewster stood just inside the doorway, a couple of mugs in his hands. She motioned for Ross to come to her.
Jack glanced over his shoulder. “Who’s this guy?” Jack asked, and when Peggy Jo glared at Jack questioningly, he explained, “I need to know the identities of all the people who work here at WLOK and what their positions are and their relationships to you.”
Peggy Jo nodded, understanding his need for this information. “This is Ross Brewster,” she said as Ross approached her.
“I’ve brought you some fresh coffee,” Ross said, handing a mug to Peggy Jo. “And I brought some for you, too.”
Jack accepted the bright purple mug emblazoned with the WLOK emblem. “Thanks.”
“Ross is a student at UTC,” Peggy Jo said. “He works here at the studio every morning before classes and various hours between classes.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jack said, and shook hands with the young man. “I’m Jack Parker, Miss Peggy Jo’s bodyguard. We’ll probably be seeing a great deal of each other for a while.”
Ross visibly flinched. “A bodyguard?”
“Yes,” Peggy Jo said. “With the stalker getting more bold—bold enough to ransack my dressing room here at the studio without being caught—I decided that it was in my best interest to hire someone to watch my back.”
“I think that’s a really good idea,” Ross said, his gaze scanning Jack from head to toe. “Do you carry a gun?”
Jack grinned. “Sure do.” But he made no move to reveal the whereabouts of his weapon.
Ross swallowed, then cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah. Mr. Compton said to tell you that Leda and Burt are here.”
“Thanks.”
Ross smiled, then walked backward, exiting slowly, melting away like snow in the sunshine.
Peggy Jo turned her attention back to Jack and before he could ask her, she said, “Leda Seager is the director of Self-Made Woman and Burt Morgan is our production manager. I wanted to speak to them and explain about your presence on the set…well, actually, your presence in my life. I asked Chet to let me speak to them first. I was afraid that if he told them about you, he would…well, he might—”
“Chet? Chet Compton, the station manager. Right?”
“Yes, but how did you know?”
“His name stuck in my mind after I read your file that Dundee put together quickly and gave me before I left Atlanta yesterday. If I recall correctly, Chet’s also a former boyfriend of yours.”
“Chet was never my boyfriend,” she corrected. “He and I dated occasionally, but we’ve never been anything except friends. And not even that anymore. We’re business associates and that’s all.”
“Who broke whose heart?”
“What?”
“If you two were friends before you started dating and now that you don’t date any longer, you aren’t friends, then that tells me somebody took the relationship seriously and got hurt when it ended.”
“You’re quite astute, aren’t you?” Peggy Jo sipped her coffee. “Chet wanted more than friendship. I didn’t.”
