Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series Read Free Page A

one and walked out, plopping the garbage into the cart she pulled behind her.
    Cleaning offices certainly wasn’t the dream job she’d envisioned on her journey west. She yearned to get back to jewelry making, but she couldn’t complain. Every under-the-table paycheck was a step closer to her own car and apartment. She was incredibly grateful to the counselors at Stowers House for helping her secure employment, giving her the opportunity to earn a living.
    She moved to the next picture frame, wiping away any dust that had settled since last night, then walked into another darkened room. She glanced up as she replaced the soiled trash bag by the desk, pausing to stare out at the massive skyscrapers lit in the night, and smiled, still amazed that she was here. Los Angeles was huge . It was easy to hide in an area that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Shaking her head, she focused on her work, reminding herself that she wasn’t hiding. She was living her life and beginning again in the anonymity of a place that was home to millions.
    For four blessed weeks she’d woken on her cot at the shelter without fear—or mostly. For the first time in too long she wore what she chose, ate what she wanted, and enjoyed the simple fact that she didn’t have to walk on eggshells every blessed moment of every single day. But she still had to be careful. She pinned up her hair or braided it every day and wore a ball cap or hoodie whenever she left Stowers House, despite the relative safety of the city.
    A door closed further down the hall, and a man walked by, moving toward the main lobby. He smiled. “Good night.”
    “Good night.” She smiled back, remembering to meet his startlingly green eyes instead of look down and hunch her shoulders. If she wanted to blend in, she needed to behave like everyone else.
    Alone again, she pulled her cloth free and moved to the last picture frame, wiping, peeking into the office where the man with almost shoulder-length, dark brown hair typed on his laptop. He was here often, at least twice a week, which meant that at least twice a week she waited until the last possible second to knock on his door. Nibbling her lip, she looked at the professional group picture she’d just cleaned, staring at the man’s gorgeous face among more than a dozen other handsome men, then at his powerful shoulders as he stood like the rest of his co-workers with their muscular arms crossed at their chests. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that bodyguards didn’t hurt people—they helped them—stepped forward again, swallowing, then raised her hand and knocked.
    The man, Stone, she thought his name was, didn’t bother to look up.
    “I’m—I’m just going to grab your trash.”
    He grunted, his fingers never stopping on the keyboard as she hurried in, pulled out the full bag, replaced it, and left. She started back down the hall, relaxing her shoulders, glad the moment was over, trying to figure out why her frequent encounters with one of Ethan Cooke Security’s agents always left her so frazzled. He barely paid her any attention. Other than the one time he’d said, “Yeah,” in his deep voice, he responded in grunts. He’d never actually looked up from his laptop. He was just here a lot, which was oddly comforting…sort of…from a distance.
    She walked into the final darkened office on her left, reaching for the trash bag, and stopped, staring as one of the men she recognized from the same picture held a black-haired beauty in an intense lip lock, chuckling as he nuzzled her neck and nipped at her ear before easing away.
    “Hold on.”
    “Where you going, big guy?” the woman asked, pulling him back, then dropped her hands as her eyes met Sophie’s. “Oh.”
    “I’m sorry.” Sophie cleared her throat, backing from the room. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
    “No. No. Excuse us,” the woman said as she fixed her shirt. “We didn’t know anyone was here.”
    “That’s okay.”