Page 36 of Hunted (Desert Island Duet #2)

Chapter twenty-three

Darla

I can’t stop swinging my hair side to side to try and get a better look at it cascading over my shoulders.

Hazel really is a talented hair stylist. I didn't want to completely change my look by cutting my hair short, as I worried that much of a change might be too much for me to handle, so instead, we compromised on cutting off some of the length, so it ends about mid chest instead of hanging all the way down to my butt.

She added in layers, and it feels so light and soft, I can’t stop touching it.

The guys had all given me such heated looks when they saw it, that I knew it wasn’t just me who liked it.

They all took photos of me and took turns taking photos with me.

Hazel managed to get a few of all five of us together, and I asked her to send them to Kingsley so I could look at them.

It was making me start to want a cellphone, so I could look at the photo of us whenever I wanted.

Spending time with Hazel had been fun. At first, she was a lot to take in, constantly talking a mile a minute.

But as I got used to her, it became a comfort, filling the silences so I didn’t have to.

She asked me questions, and I answered, but I think she could tell it wasn’t easy for me.

Besides, what did I have to talk about? The best way to skin a boar ?

She yammered on about celebrities and her favorite shows. She talked about some local clubs that she said I needed to check out, which reminded me of the conversation I had with the guys back on the island. How going to a club was on my list and they insisted they needed to come with me.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for that sort of crowd yet, but maybe with some alcohol I’d feel more relaxed? It was something to consider. Right now, my thoughts were more occupied with where we were going right now.

I’m gripping Kingsley and Weston’s hands tightly in the back of the SUV as we head to Titan Tech.

It’s my first time out of the house since I arrived there and I’m silently freaking out.

Not only am I dreading being around other people, but there is still the possibility of someone trying to kill us.

The guys have reassured me the office is being heavily monitored and only employees are allowed inside. Reece even added extra security, and that’s on top of the driver currently in the car with us and the other vehicle following us with four other security guards he hired.

The part I’m most nervous about is talking to the press.

Today we are meeting with a PR firm to discuss making a statement about what happened to us.

We’re obviously going to leave out many of the details, but their PR person insisted that it’s better for us to make a statement, then to let the press make up their own story.

It won’t stop the paparazzi and requests for interviews completely, but we hope it should calm them down a bit.

Luckily, nobody knew where we lived, but without any sort of security fencing around the property, I was worried it was only a matter of time before they were knocking on the door and peeking through windows .

We decided to keep the intimate part of our relationship out of the statement at this time, and just give them the facts about the past. I met Mira, the head of the PR company, on a video call yesterday, and she seemed to know what she was talking about and had our best interest, and the interest of Titan Tech in mind.

“That’s it, there,” Bower says, leaning forward to point over my shoulder at the building coming up on our right.

I assumed it’d be this giant tower in the middle of the city, but when I get my first glimpse of it, it eases a little of my worry. It looks to be only four stories and is in more of an industrial area, rather than the downtown image I had in my head.

There’s a large parking lot that the driver turns into, right beside the building.

What I don’t like, though, is the dozen or so reporters hanging right outside the front entrance.

When they see our vehicles pull in, they all turn to watch, and when we park, they come running over, surrounding both our vehicle and the one belonging to security.

“Shit,” Bower mumbles, looking at the people who are eagerly awaiting us. Thankfully, they aren’t banging on the glass. They’re just waiting, cameras and microphones at the ready.

“What do we do?” Weston asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side.

“Stay put,” the driver says as he pushes his door open. “We’ll handle it.”

We all watch as he rounds the vehicle and the security from the other vehicle joins him as they stand in front of ours, blocking us from the press .

“Mira is coming out,” Reece says from the front seat. I look at the building and can see her pushing through the crowd with two security officers of her own.

“If you can please clear a path for them to enter the building. They won’t be making any statements at this time, but as I told you, we will be coming outside later to make their official statements for you. If you can give them some space, we would appreciate it.”

A bunch of people start to shout out questions, but the security team does a good job of pushing them back and making a path for us.

“Alright, here we go. You ready?” Kingsley asks, looking down at me. Nodding my head, I take a deep breath as he opens the door. I can do this.

He steps out and helps me down. I stare at the press and the flashing lights as I try to breathe.

They’re just people and cameras. Zee wouldn’t be scared of them, even if Darla is.

The others gather around me, Bower and Reece take the lead, Bower smiling and waving like he’s some sort of movie star. It makes me smile to see him relaxed. It helps remind me that nothing scary is happening right now.

Kingsley walks at the back of our group and Weston wraps his arm around my shoulders, holding me against his side, as we move towards the entrance. I wrap my left arm around his back and grip him firmly, reminding myself that he’s right there beside me.

When we make it inside and the doors shut, quieting the voice of the press, I let out a breath of relief. That wasn’t so bad.

“Mr. Benson, Mr. Riggs! It’s so good to see you both!” a woman exclaims up ahead. I glance between Bower and Reece and see a beautiful woman standing behind the reception desk. She has long dark hair styled in waves, and she wears a tight pencil skirt and a light blue blouse.

I frown down at my own appearance, wondering, not for the first time today, if I’m dressed appropriately for this.

Not only do I not know what my own style is, but I don’t even know what’s appropriate to wear in different situations.

I really appreciated Kingsley ordering some clothes for me.

He even picked out the dress I’m wearing today.

It’s a white fabric covered in tiny blue flowers. I think the cap sleeves and sweetheart neckline help to soften my appearance, while the length, ending a few inches above my knees, is short enough for the San Francisco heat, without being so short that it would reveal too much.

Of course, I was used to wearing a much shorter skirt than this and going commando, but not around so many strangers.

Kingsley had bought me a variety of underwear, telling me I needed to figure out what style I liked best. There was everything from what he called boy shorts to thongs.

I ended up liking the athletic thongs, the material soft and lightweight, and I mostly didn’t even notice I was wearing them.

Bras were another matter. He bought a few sizes, not knowing exactly what size I’d be. And I had found one that fit me, but it wasn’t comfortable, I low key hated it. Of course, I couldn’t tell him that. I just chose to stick to sports bras or no bra when I could.

Unfortunately, the straps of the sports bra showed in this dress, and I didn’t think I could go without one out in public, so I sucked it up and wore the white bra today. It was killing me not to reach up and constantly readjust it. Who thought putting wire in bras was a smart idea, anyway?

“Mr. Voss! I’m so glad you’re safe, too.”

“It’s good to see you, Lisa.” Kingsley nods to the woman as we all move to stand in front of her desk. Her eyes move appreciatively over Weston, skipping me completely. He makes a small noise of discontent, making me smile as I dig my fingers into his back in acknowledgement of his distress.

“Lisa, this is our friend, West Callahan, and this is Darla Danvers. Both of them are allowed full access to this building and everything in it. If either of them ever comes here needing to see any of us, you tell us straight away.”

“Of course, sir!” she says, practically batting her eyelashes at him. Ugh, I did not like that at all. “It’s nice to meet you, Weston .” She says his name like it means something special to her. I hate her instantly. Can she not see his arm draped around my shoulder?

He grunts a reply, making me love him a little bit more for not giving her a single word in response.

“Alright, let’s get going,” Reece says, gesturing to the elevator.

Weston steers us to follow Reece, and I glance over my shoulder when I see Lisa stopping Bower with a hand on his arm as she says something too quiet for me to hear.

I narrow my eyes at where her hand touches him and am happy when he pulls his arm away quickly, taking a step back as he gives her a short reply, then turns and quickly catches up with us.

“What did she want?” I ask Bower, still watching where she’s eyeing up my men.

Bower looks at me in confusion, then a grin spreads across his handsome face. “She asked if we needed any drinks. Why? Are you jealous, baby?”