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Authors: Tori St. Claire
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and not tell him she could take care of herself. Instead, she flashed him a demure smile. “Probably right.”
Inside the dressing room corridor, she slowed to a stop. “I’d like to ask you a favor.”
“Anything you want, babe.” Aaron’s wink gave her another glimpse of his good-natured temperament.
“I have a friend who needs a job. Sergei Khitrovo.”
As if she’d suddenly struck territory that interested him, Aaron’s expression morphed into stoic quiet. He cocked his head and gave her an encouraging nod.
“His background’s in security. He’s been on private hire to some celebrities in Hollywood recently, but his stint’s over and now he’s in between jobs.”
“And you’re thinking he’d be good here?”
In perfect timing to her request, another group of men from the props department exited the elevator ten feet away and hustled down the corridor. She gestured at their retreating backs. “They come and go whenever. I haven’t seen anyone looking over them. With all the disappearances, wouldn’t it be a good idea to have someone backstage with the girls? Sergei’s discreet.”
He answered with the objection she had expected any good undercover cop would use. “I can’t take someone off the street and put them in the back.”
Aaron rubbed his chin again. His eyes lost focus, his thoughts turned inward, considering her request. After several moments of tense silence, where Natalya began to question how she’d ever thought she might be able to sway a man who’d spent almost ten years undercover, he finally nodded his head.
“I’ll see what Brandon thinks. I’ll let you know before we head out tonight.”
Natalya groaned inwardly. She hadn’t seen that coming. Her research indicated the two operated on equal footing with Aaron managing his own scope of control and Brandon operating as a senior, but equal, partner. Fat chance Brandon would honor anything she requested.
Unless he happened to recognize Sergei’s name, make the connection between her and Dmitri, and recognize they were players in the Dubai Project.
She bobbed her head, acknowledging Aaron’s efforts, and hurried past him to the dressing room where Becca had already donned her jeans in expectation of an early night off. “Becca.”
“Oh, hi! I was wondering where you’d gone. I wanted to thank you again for helping me earlier.”
Natalya dismissed the thanks with a wave of her hand. “That’s what I’m here for. But I’ve got a directive from the boss.”
“Oh?”
“He wants you on in Chablis’ place.”
Elation turned Becca’s otherwise pretty features into a mask of startling beauty. “Oh, my God! He’s giving me her slot?”
Convinced she would somehow land the opening onstage, Natalya schooled her expression into serene compassion and gently delivered the news that would crush a dancer hungry for promotion. “It’s only temporary. But it’s yours for tonight.”
A short nod confirmed Becca’s dismay. With far less enthusiasm, she bent over to pick up her sweatshirt. “Could you ask Harvey to bring up the jungle props?”
“Sure thing.”
Mark down another girl who’d treat her to Jill’s same icy demeanor. When Becca discovered Natalya had manipulated her out of the slot, she’d be six kinds of hateful. Natalya sighed and shook her head. What these girls thought of her shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t here to make friends. She was here to protect Kate, and in the process, protect the rest of them. When she accomplished that, she wouldn’t be here to care what the girls thought of her.
Maybe then, Becca could claim her coveted slot.
As Natalya returned to her office, she glimpsed Brandon and Aaron standing in the stage wings. Arms folded across his chest, Brandon didn’t look at all pleased. His gaze flicked over Aaron’s shoulder and landed on her, halting her forward progress for a tremulous heartbeat. A chill skittered over her flesh. Goose bumps followed in its wake.
When
Inside the dressing room corridor, she slowed to a stop. “I’d like to ask you a favor.”
“Anything you want, babe.” Aaron’s wink gave her another glimpse of his good-natured temperament.
“I have a friend who needs a job. Sergei Khitrovo.”
As if she’d suddenly struck territory that interested him, Aaron’s expression morphed into stoic quiet. He cocked his head and gave her an encouraging nod.
“His background’s in security. He’s been on private hire to some celebrities in Hollywood recently, but his stint’s over and now he’s in between jobs.”
“And you’re thinking he’d be good here?”
In perfect timing to her request, another group of men from the props department exited the elevator ten feet away and hustled down the corridor. She gestured at their retreating backs. “They come and go whenever. I haven’t seen anyone looking over them. With all the disappearances, wouldn’t it be a good idea to have someone backstage with the girls? Sergei’s discreet.”
He answered with the objection she had expected any good undercover cop would use. “I can’t take someone off the street and put them in the back.”
Aaron rubbed his chin again. His eyes lost focus, his thoughts turned inward, considering her request. After several moments of tense silence, where Natalya began to question how she’d ever thought she might be able to sway a man who’d spent almost ten years undercover, he finally nodded his head.
“I’ll see what Brandon thinks. I’ll let you know before we head out tonight.”
Natalya groaned inwardly. She hadn’t seen that coming. Her research indicated the two operated on equal footing with Aaron managing his own scope of control and Brandon operating as a senior, but equal, partner. Fat chance Brandon would honor anything she requested.
Unless he happened to recognize Sergei’s name, make the connection between her and Dmitri, and recognize they were players in the Dubai Project.
She bobbed her head, acknowledging Aaron’s efforts, and hurried past him to the dressing room where Becca had already donned her jeans in expectation of an early night off. “Becca.”
“Oh, hi! I was wondering where you’d gone. I wanted to thank you again for helping me earlier.”
Natalya dismissed the thanks with a wave of her hand. “That’s what I’m here for. But I’ve got a directive from the boss.”
“Oh?”
“He wants you on in Chablis’ place.”
Elation turned Becca’s otherwise pretty features into a mask of startling beauty. “Oh, my God! He’s giving me her slot?”
Convinced she would somehow land the opening onstage, Natalya schooled her expression into serene compassion and gently delivered the news that would crush a dancer hungry for promotion. “It’s only temporary. But it’s yours for tonight.”
A short nod confirmed Becca’s dismay. With far less enthusiasm, she bent over to pick up her sweatshirt. “Could you ask Harvey to bring up the jungle props?”
“Sure thing.”
Mark down another girl who’d treat her to Jill’s same icy demeanor. When Becca discovered Natalya had manipulated her out of the slot, she’d be six kinds of hateful. Natalya sighed and shook her head. What these girls thought of her shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t here to make friends. She was here to protect Kate, and in the process, protect the rest of them. When she accomplished that, she wouldn’t be here to care what the girls thought of her.
Maybe then, Becca could claim her coveted slot.
As Natalya returned to her office, she glimpsed Brandon and Aaron standing in the stage wings. Arms folded across his chest, Brandon didn’t look at all pleased. His gaze flicked over Aaron’s shoulder and landed on her, halting her forward progress for a tremulous heartbeat. A chill skittered over her flesh. Goose bumps followed in its wake.
When
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