sightlines, then nodded. "One hour. I'll be at the corner table."
Daniel showed up unexpectedly. A merger meeting had fallen through, and he found himself sliding into the booth across from her.
"Babysitting again?" he asked, his tone dripping with his usual Harrington sarcasm.
"Working," she corrected without missing a beat. "You're the one crashing the party. What, did your fancy boardroom run out of caviar?"
He chuckled despite himself and signaled the bartender for a whiskey neat. "Lucas texted me. He said you saved him from a drunk fan trying to propose with a tattoo gun. Is that true?"
Amari sipped her club soda with a deadpan expression. "She was enthusiastic. She had a whole speech about 'eternal ink bonds.' I was persuasive and politely suggested she tattoo her cat instead."
Daniel nearly choked on his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "A tattoo gun? In a bar? That's a new level of crazy."
"Welcome to rockstar life," Amari replied, her lips twitching into a rare smirk. "Better than the guy last week who showed up with a homemade shrine made of Lucas's old guitar picks. He glued them together like a creepy collage."
He leaned back, genuinely amused. "You're kidding."
"Nope. I had to escort him out while he recited bad poetry. 'Oh Lucas, your strings pull my heart's melody…'" She mimicked a dramatic swoon and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly.
Daniel burst out laughing, a deep, genuine sound that surprised them both. Heads turned in the dim bar, but he didn't care. "God, I needed that. These fans are unhinged."
Silence stretched after, but it felt less awkward now, warmed by the shared humor. Finally, Daniel said, "You're good at this. Better than I expected. Don't let it go to your head."
"High praise from the king of low expectations," she shot back, but her eyes softened a fraction, the green flecks catching the low light.
He surprised them both by asking, "Why personal security? Why not stay on the ranch? Montana sounds peaceful."
Her fingers tightened around the glass, and her gaze dropped to the scarred wooden table. "The ranch is drowning in debt. Dad's hurt from a bad fall off a horse last year. My sister Lily's still in college, studying to be a vet because, apparently, one Thompson wrangling animals isn't enough. This gig pays better than chasing cattle through blizzards, and I'm good at protecting what's mine."
Something in her voice made Daniel's chest tighten—a raw honesty that mirrored his own burdens. "Family," he said quietly. "I get that. I lost my parents young too. I've been playing dad to Lucas since I was barely out of college myself."
They talked longer than either intended. They shared stories about overprotective instincts, the chaos of raising siblings who thought rules were suggestions, and the quiet toll of always being the responsible one. Amari told a hilarious story about Lily trying to "rescue" a neighbor's cow she thought looked sad. This sparked a mini-feud that ended in a pie-baking contest. Daniel countered with a tale of Lucas's teenage phase of dyeing his hair neon green and insisting on being called "Zephyr the Mystic," complete with a homemade cape.
When Lucas finally stumbled over, flushed from the stage and ready to head home, Daniel realized two hours had flown by like minutes.
As they walked back to the loft, Lucas slung a sloppy arm around each of them, grinning like a fool. "My two favorite people not trying to kill each other for once. Miracle! Hey, Amari, you should teach Danny-boy how to lasso. Bet he'd rope himself first."
Amari snorted. "I'd pay to see that."
Daniel rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "Keep dreaming, kid."
Still, sparks flew in other ways. At a holiday gala for Harrington Tech investors two weeks later, Amari wore a simple black dress bought with Daniel's company card. It wasn't flashy, but it hugged her athletic frame in a way that turned heads. She looked different. Elegant in an understated, no-nonsense way that caught the attention of everyone, including a tipsy investor who mistook her for a model and tried a pickup line involving "stock options and rising assets."
Daniel found himself watching her more than mingling with the executives, a fact that annoyed him.
That was also the night he arrived with Victoria Sterling on his arm.
Victoria was everything the society pages expected: blonde, polished to a shine, and heir to a rival tech empire. Rumors of an engagement had swirled for months, fueled by strategic business whispers. She glided through the room like she owned it, which, in a way, she did. She air-kissed cheeks and dropped names with practiced ease.
Amari stood near Lucas by the bar, scanning faces for threats, when Victoria approached Daniel for a dance. They moved fluidly across the floor, her hand possessive on his shoulder. Amari's stomach twisted without permission. She told herself it was indigestion from the overly rich canapés or maybe the sight of Victoria's diamond earrings, big enough to fund a small ranch.
Later, Victoria cornered her near the ladies' room, reeking of Chanel and condescension. "You're the bodyguard, yes? How quaint. Just remember your place, darling. This world chews up girls like you and spits out hayseeds."
Amari smiled thinly, unfazed. "Ma'am, I've been chewed up by worse than high heels and fake smiles—try a bull with a bad attitude. Worry about your own place; those stilettos look like they're plotting a mutiny."
Victoria's eyes widened in shock, but Amari walked away before she could retort, her pulse hammering with a mix of anger and triumph.
Daniel saw the exchange from across the room and felt an irrational surge of protectiveness. He excused himself from a group of suits and found Amari on the balcony, breathing in the crisp winter air, city lights twinkling below.
"Everything all right?" he asked, leaning on the railing beside her.
"Peachy." She didn't look at him. "Your fiancée's charming. Does she come with a warning label?"
"She's not—" He stopped and rubbed his neck. "It's complicated. Business, mostly."
"Complicated is code for convenient." Amari finally turned her guarded expression toward him. "But it's none of my business."
The hurt in her eyes disappeared so quickly that Daniel almost thought he imagined it, replaced by that stubborn spark he was starting to crave.