Jack's Christmas Mission

Barton Beverly

“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.”

“Any chance Chet is your stalker?”

Peggy Jo wanted to reply in the negative, but she couldn’t. Chet had a temperamental nature and tended to be possessive. She didn’t like the idea of suspecting him, but she knew she couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Probably not,” she said. “But it’s possible.”

“And what about Ross? It’s obvious the boy’s got a crush on you.”

Peggy Jo shrugged. “I doubt it’s Ross. He’s such a sweet boy. But then again, I suppose he could be considered a suspect.”

Jack harrumphed. “Just how many lovesick fools do you have in your life?”

Peggy Jo narrowed her gaze and glowered at him. “What happened to that good-ole-boy charm of yours?”

“Sorry, ma’am.” The corners of his mouth lifted, but didn’t quite form a smile. “Let me rephrase that. How many men do you suspect might be your stalker?”

Before Peggy Jo could answer his question, Leda and Burt entered the studio. She glanced at her watch and realized that she had only a couple of minutes to introduce Jack Parker and explain his presence before it was time for a quick rehearsal. They would begin taping the first of the Christmas week episodes in less than an hour. And the audience would be allowed into the studio in about thirty minutes.

“I’ll go over all the possible suspects with you on my lunch break later today,” Peggy Jo said. “But for now, come meet two very important people who have helped advance my television career.”

Jack stood on the sidelines, off to himself just enough to keep a close watch on his client without being seen by either the camera or the small local audience that fitted snugly into the studio. As he watched and listened to Peggy Jo Riley doing her thing, he marveled at how adept she was at putting her guests at ease, even those with whom she disagreed. Why hadn’t she used a little of that charisma with him? he wondered. She’d been downright hostile. Of course, he hadn’t put his best foot forward with her, either. The score was pretty much even in the ornery and unpleasant department. Face it, Jacky-boy, you aren’t used to women taking an instant dislike to you. Miss Peggy Jo kinda bruised your ego, didn’t she?