CHAPTER EIGHT

"Osborn, is everything okay?”

I blinked, shaking myself out of my initial shock. “Yeah. You were saying?”

Marcus leaned over and took the file from me. “You don't seem fine. You know, if you don't want it—”

“No!” I snatched the file back from him. He jumped, startled by my sudden outburst.

“Okay, seriously, what's wrong, Osborn?”

I sighed, noticing the crease forming on Marcus’s forehead. He was genuinely worried, but I couldn't tell him the real reason I was acting weird. If Reid had wanted him to know about our meeting, Marcus would have known by now. The fact that he didn't, confirmed that it wasn't my place to say anything.

“It's nothing. I was just surprised that my long-time crush is the one I'll be guarding.” I shrugged, forcing a nonchalant tone.

Marcus rolled his eyes and stood, walking around his desk to perch on its edge in front of me. “Yeah, Reid Windsor is literally every girl in Seattle's crush, but don't get carried away. This is a mission, and worse still, you're going undercover. If anyone finds out you're not who you're supposed to be, it'll land both of us in a lot of trouble. So no matter what you do, be careful.”

“I know. I will. Anything else?” I asked, getting up to leave.

“Osborn, Klaus Windsor is known for his kindness and charitable donations. He's built a reputation around that. But don't let it fool you. Men like him have plenty of fans—and twice as many enemies. Stay alert, stay watchful, and, if things go south, run.”

I frowned, stifling a laugh. “You can't be serious?”

“I am. Promise me.”

“I thought my mission was to protect? Why would I run instead of doing my job.”

Marcus' eyes softened, his tone growing somber. “Because you're the closest thing I have to family right now. I'd rather deal with some shitty billionaires for breaching a contract than lose you. That's why I'm saying, if it all goes to hell, call me, and I'll get you out. Got it?”

His words left a heavy feeling in my chest, but I couldn't let him see how they affected me. If I did, he'd just find another reason to talk me out of the job. So instead, I forced a tight smile and turned to leave.

“One more thing, Osborn.” His voice stopped me at the door. “I know I'm scaring the crap out of you,” he chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual warmth. “but Klaus Windsor is a very influential man. He’ll have plenty of backup security. Chances are, nothing will go wrong. You can stop worrying.”

“Thanks, Marcus.”

“Anytime.”

*******

I sucked in a breath as Fitz helped me tighten the binder around my chest. “Don't you think it's a little too tight?” I gasped.

“Oops, sorry.” He loosened it slightly and secured it at the back. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Be right back.”

He left without telling me where he was going, leaving me standing alone in my bathroom, staring at my reflection. I threw on a baggy white t-shirt to go with my equally oversized black cargo pants and boots. From my neck down, I could easily pass as a guy, but my face— and mostly my hair—made it pretty obvious I was still a lady.

Fitz returned a moment later, dragging a large camping bag behind him. I gave him a questioning look. “Why do you have a camping bag?”

“Because I'm going camping,” he said, dumping it on the bathroom floor.

“You are?”

“No, dumbass, it's for your makeover. You didn't plan on leaving just like that, did you?”

Actually, I had. I thought throwing on a cap would be enough.

“Nooo,” I drawled. “But as long as we're not cutting my hair, I'm in.”

“Well, thank God for wigs.” He smirked and bent to open the bag.

Inside were hair of all colours and styles. My hand flew to my mouth in surprise.

“Ahh, I know. I'm amazing.” He stood, nodding with pride. I couldn't help but laugh.

“Okay, we've got blonde, auburn, redhead, silver, black, green, dreadlocks—you name it!”

“Got a beard too?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He paused, one hand lifting to his chin while the other crossed his chest. “Hmm, stubble, full face, or just a mustache?”

My eyes widened. “You've got to be kidding me!”

He laughed. “When it comes to disguises, I'm your guy. So which should we try first?” He began sifting through the bag, tossing wigs he didn't like into my bedroom.

“Should I be worried you have this many wigs?”

“Should you be worried?” He mimicked, snickering. “Dude, I've got human faces. Wigs should be the least of your concerns.”

I took a step back, “who are you?”

He burst out laughing. “So gullible.”

I smacked the back of his head, then joined him in his ultimate search for the perfect disguise.

An hour later, Fitz settled on a dark brown dreadlocks wig with a black band at the front. According to him, it matched my light brown skin tone and made me look more intimidating—”a vibe for someone biracial,” as he put it. We both vetoed the beard; for me, it felt uncomfortable, and for Fitz, it was just “meh.”

Now, I was seated in a rental car Fitz had arranged for me, halfway out of Capitol Hill and on my way to lake Chelan, where the file said Reid's house was located. My mind raced, my heart thumping heavily against my chest. I was going to see Reid again. I was still mad at him, but excitement began to cloud the reasons why.

My thoughts spiraled into ridiculous fantasies about Reid and me, and I had to remind myself—again and again—that I was on a job, not a romance reality show.

By the time I caught sight of the lake up ahead, the skies had already darkened. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I hadn't gotten lost following the car's GPS. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me as I pulled up to the mansion, leaving me with little energy to take in the breathtaking view.

What was supposed to be a three-hour drive had ended up taking nearly five, thanks to the car breaking down on the way. Marcus had to send me some cash to pay for a roadside mechanic to fix it.

I straightened up, adjusting my wig and making sure my disguise was still in place. Then with a deep breath, I knocked on the massive iron door of the mansion.

Almost immediately, the door creaked open, revealing a short, plump woman in a white apron, her dark hair tied up in a neat bun.

“Oh, you must be the new security,” she said with a warm smile. I nodded. “We weren't expecting you until tomorrow, or…was I mistaken?” She muttered the last part to herself, but I cleared my throat and answered.

“Yeah, I thought I'd come a little early to get a better feel for the place and all.”

“Sure, sure, come on.” She turned and walked further into the dimly lit mansion. “Sorry about the darkness; we're having a little issue with a power outage, but it'll be fixed in no time. Why don't you have a seat on the couch?” She gestured toward one of the large chairs in the middle of the spacious living room.

“Thank you. When will I be meeting with the boss?” I asked, forcing myself to maintain the deep, bass voice Fitz had taught me.

“Oh dear. No one's home. The boss and his son won't be arriving until tomorrow. Till then, it's just you and me. I'll show you to your room once the lights are back on.”

I flashed a tight smile, unsure if she could see it from where she stood in the faint glow of the candlelight. Disappointment settled over me. Once again, I'd have to wait to see Reid. But then again, maybe it was a blessing in disguise—it gave me more time to get comfortable with my new persona.

“Correct me if I'm wrong, dear—your name is Eugene, right?”

I nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Oh, good. The boss left a message saying after the press conference tomorrow with his son, you're to meet him at a scheduled location. He'll let you know where tomorrow. Is that fine?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She smiled again, her cheerful demeanor making me feel oddly uneasy. “Anyhoo, make yourself at home. I'll be back with dinner.” With that, she disappeared down a hallway, leaving me alone in the dimly lit room.

Her kindness felt genuine, but something about it didn't sit right with me. Marcus' warning echoed in my mind, but I shoved it aside. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, and I couldn't afford to let doubt creep in. The mission was simple: play the bodyguard, Keep out of trouble, and get out in one piece.

Atleast, that was the plan—or so I thought.