Salt Kiss (Lyonesse #1)

seven

“—starting to think it’s a myth at this point, not a fucking word from the wedding planner. Oh, hey, new kid, come on in.”

Four days after my boss kissed me on his roof, I walk into the security office to start my first full, real week as Mark’s bodyguard. Goran and his assistant head of security—Nat, a tall woman with medium-brown skin, short twists, and a Semper Fi tattoo on the inside of her forearm—are sitting at the table in the office, laptops open in front of them.

“Club schedule for the week,” Goran says, sliding a paper across the table to me as I sit down. For the main security team, the weeks start on Tuesdays, our weekends consisting of the club’s slow days, Sundays and Mondays. A smaller relief team can more easily cover the club then, and can cover Mark’s movements too.