Chapter 29
Wes
Three months later
I looked around at my empty apartment one more time.
I’d lived in this little place in Brooklyn since I first joined the force.
It wasn’t much, but it had always felt like home.
I suppose it was fitting that I was moving now because nothing had felt right since I’d walked out of Juliette’s house three months ago.
Coffee tasted bitter. The City sounded different at night.
And the badge I’d been so proud to wear had grown too heavy.
I picked up the final box, took one last glance around, and pulled the door shut behind me. Forty minutes later, I pulled up at my next-to-last stop. Mom opened the door, and the smell of meatballs wafted out onto the porch.
“Perfect timing,” she said. “I just put the pasta into the water.”
“You didn’t have to cook.”
“Nonsense. I love cooking for you.”
“Thanks, Ma.” I followed her into the kitchen and found a cooler on the table. Inside was a bunch of Tupperware.
“I made you six different meals,” she said. “I guessed that was about how long it would take you to drive from New York to California.”
Shit. “Sorry, Ma. I should’ve told you there was a change in my plans. I’m not driving anymore. I’m flying because I need to be out there sooner than I thought to start my new job the day after tomorrow.”
“Oh my gosh. You got a job! I’ve been so worried about what you were going to do for money out there in California, now that you quit the force.
” She pointed to the packed Yeti. “I even hid some of the money I’d been saving to blow with my girlfriends next month in Atlantic City at the bottom of the cooler.
It’s in a zippy bag. I knew you wouldn’t take it if I tried to hand it to you. ”
I smiled and pulled my mom in for a hug. “You’re the best, Ma. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got a nice little nest egg, and this new job pays better than the NYPD.”
She leaned back. “You’re not working for one of those crooked guys again, are you?”
The week after I returned to New York, I’d unloaded the truth about what I’d been doing with Vince and the NYPD on my poor, unsuspecting mom.
Even though I no longer worked for the Ginocassi family, I still couldn’t trust just anyone with the truth, and I’d really needed to talk to someone about my messed-up life.
Mom had been the one to inspire me to not give up on Juliette so easily.
“No, Ma. I’ll never get involved with people like that again. Promise. You don’t have to worry.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Thank goodness.”
“I’m actually going to be working for Tom Chalder, my old sergeant from the police academy. Do you remember him?”
“I do. I met him at your graduation ceremony. Red hair, right?”
I smiled. “It’s almost all white now, but yeah.
He and I stayed in touch, and he’s been sort of like a mentor to me.
Last year he retired from the force and moved out to the West Coast to be near his daughter who lives in LA.
She and her husband just had a baby. Tom’s got rheumatoid arthritis, and the winters here were tough on his joints.
Anyway, he was never one to sit still, so after a few months in LA, he decided to open a private-security business, and it took off pretty fast. I’m going to be guarding celebrities, actors, and musicians, probably some rich tech people, too.
My first assignment starts Monday, so I’m taking a late flight tonight. ”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Wes.” She dug into the cooler and came up with a zippy bag full of hundreds. “Now I can go to battle with the one-armed bandit.”
I chuckled. “I appreciate that you were going to give up your slot-machine money for me, though.”
Mom and I had an early dinner together, and I managed to pack two of the meals she’d made into my backpack.
“I’m gonna head out,” I eventually told her. “I want to stop by the cemetery to say goodbye to Luke before I make my way to the airport.”
Her face softened. “Tell him I’ll be there to do some weeding next weekend.”
“Will do.”
“Before you go, I just want to say that I think what you’re doing—giving up everything for the woman you love—is very romantic, Wes. Hang in there. The best things in life don’t always come easy.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She opened the front door. “Good luck, Romeo. Go get your Juliette!”
I kissed my mother’s cheek. “Let’s hope this Romeo and Juliette story has a better ending.”
***
“Thanks again for doing this.” I stood and extended my hand to my mentor. We shook.
“Are you kidding? You’re helping me.” He came around the desk and put a hand on my shoulder as we walked toward the door.
“I didn’t expect my business to take off so fast. I’m not complaining.
I like the action and all, but I don’t want it to take over my life the way the NYPD did.
I got a grandkid that I babysit two days a week now.
So believe me, I’m glad to have someone here I can rely on. ”
I smiled. “That’s awesome. And I’m happy to take on whatever you need, especially since, unlike you, I have no life out here in California…yet.”
“Everything you need is on the assignment sheet I gave you. Job starts at noon today, and the pick-up is at the client’s house in the Pacific Palisades. Good luck with your first gig. The guy you’re protecting is sort of a dick. So you’re gonna need it.”
Back in my car, I put the key in the ignition and checked the time on my watch.
It was still only nine o’clock, so I had a couple of hours to kill.
Putting my hand on the gear shifter, I realized I had no place to go except my mostly empty apartment.
I’d shipped my boxes and car, and they weren’t scheduled to arrive for another ten days, so I didn’t even have unpacking to keep me busy.
The envelope Tom had given me sat on the passenger seat.
Since I was in no rush, I decided to learn about the celebrity I was going to be protecting.
The top left-hand corner listed the date and time of the job’s start, along with the address, but when I moved on to the client’s name, I froze.
Bradley Wilson.
No way. The douchebag actor that had given Juliette a hard time.
The guy had kept making her do rewrites just to feed his ego.
What were the odds? There had to be tens of thousands of actors out here in LA, and I just happened to get assigned to him?
I scanned the assignment sheet again. I’d be picking Bradley up at his house, then accompanying him on a three-day local press junket—media interviews, photo ops, late-night talk shows, the works.
The paperwork didn’t mention the title of the movie, but just being assigned to him felt…
oddly significant. Or maybe a little like fate.
So I decided to lean in, take a detour before heading over to Bradley’s.
It had been three months since I’d last seen Juliette—unless you counted all the times I’d stalked her social media—and even just catching a glimpse of her house in person would be great.
When I pulled up outside her place, though, I almost didn’t recognize it.
The tan house had been painted bright blue, and the front yard, which used to be patchy dry grass, was now alive.
There were even a few flowers planted. The garage door was open, and while I sat idling, Juliette walked out carrying a pot of flowers in one hand and a small trowel in the other.
I should’ve slipped down in the driver’s seat or hit the gas and moved on so she didn’t spot me, but I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off her.
Juliette walked over to a flowerbed, seemingly oblivious that a man was watching her not thirty feet away.
Sadly, so was her trusted bodyguard, Eddie, who sat in his car, busy stuffing his face, and didn’t even clock me idling.
Juliette dropped to her knees and started digging, and I thought I was going to get away with stealing a glance at her, but then she suddenly sat up and turned her head.
And her eyes landed right on me. For a second, her face lit up, and my heart started to race.
Then, just as quickly, everything changed.
Her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed, and her posture said don’t you dare.
The smart thing to do would’ve been to wave and drive away.
But smart wasn’t the way I’d ever handled things with Juliette Ginocassi.
So instead, I pulled closer to the curb and killed the engine.
The look on her face told me I should stay in the car.
So what did I do? Of course, I got out and ambled over.
“Hey,” I said softly. “How are you?”
She stabbed the trowel into the dirt. “What do you want?” Icy.
“Do you think we could talk for a few minutes?”
“No.”
I swallowed. “Could you listen then? I won’t take up more than a minute of your time.”
“Get off my property.”
“Juliette, I—”
She pointed toward the street and raised her voice. “Off. My. Property.”
I lifted my hands and showed her my palms. “Okay, okay.”
She didn’t wait for me to retreat before turning back to her planting.
Deflated, I started the walk of shame toward my car, but it hit me that if I was ever going to have any chance with her again, I needed to say my piece.
I hadn’t planned on coming here today, hadn’t planned on laying my heart on the line this morning, yet now I felt desperate to do it.
So I stepped off the curb, cupped my hands around my mouth, and yelled to her.
“I’m off your property now. I just need to say a few things, and then I’ll leave.”
Juliette’s head whipped around, and she scowled. “Keep it down. My neighbors are going to hear you…”
I shrugged. “What choice do I have when you won’t let me come closer so we can talk quietly?”
Her eyes narrowed to near slits.
I took that as an invitation to continue, this time even louder. “Three months ago, when I left California—”