Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
M aya sighed as she brushed her hair. She’d soaked in the bathtub for almost an hour, adding warm water as it cooled, and had finally stopped shivering. The physical response to being over-tired and shocked at the fall was something she hadn’t experienced before. She had work to do before she could sleep, so she slipped into yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and a pair of fluffy socks before cracking open her bedroom door and heading to the office. She only made it a few feet before the smell of something delicious wafted to her.
She followed the smell into the kitchen, where Elliot sat among a plethora of takeout containers. In a pair of chopsticks, he held a fried wonton.
“I’ve ordered enough for an army. Would you like some?” He pointed to the table, and she chuckled because she believed him. All the food her new bodyguard had ordered could have sustained an army.
“I usually have a salad. Louise makes one for me and leaves it in the fridge.” She sat down and looked at the delicious food. “But this smells delicious. Are you sure you don’t mind sharing?” She glanced up at him.
“Not at all. I ordered more than enough.”
“I’ll reimburse you,” she said as she reached for a pair of chopsticks and a paper plate.
“Ms. Callahan, I assure you I can afford to feed myself and you,” he said, grinning, as she reached for the container holding the fried wontons.
She looked up at him. “But you’ll want to be reimbursed, right?”
He lifted noodles to his mouth, slurped them, and shook his head no. When he finished chewing, he wiped his mouth. “I don’t need or want your money. I have enough of my own.”
She rolled her eyes. “I assure you, I have more money than you do.”
He lifted his eyes to her. “I’ve seen your net worth. I’m sure you do, too, but I want none of it. I’ve worked with some of the richest people in the world. One thing I’ve learned is money doesn’t make you happy.”
She dumped a bit of rice and sauteed veggies on her plate before snagging an egg roll, checking the label to make sure it didn’t have chicken or pork. “Money does make a person happy.”
“I beg to differ. Having a hand to hold when you’re scared or having someone to talk to when the day has gone to hell can make you happy. Money can’t do that.”
She chewed her bite of wonton and cocked her head. She was damn good at reading people, and she wanted to get a read on her new bodyguard. “Money paid for you. You were there when I was scared earlier, and I’m talking to you now. Believe me, the last twenty-four hours have been hell on earth.”
“But I don’t make you happy.” He poured half a container of white rice onto his plate and covered it with what looked like beef and broccoli.
She shrugged. “I don’t know you well enough to make that determination. You make me feel safe, which I didn’t know I needed to feel until last night.” She took a bite of her veggies and rice before asking, “What makes you happy? We know money makes me happy.”
Elliot glanced at her and shook his head. “Not much makes me happy anymore.”
“Anymore? That means something did at one time.” As he set his chopsticks down, crossed his arms, and stared at her, she realized he wasn’t wearing his gun. “Oh, you took your gun off. Good.” She smiled. “That makes me happy, too.”
“My weapon is strapped to my ankle. I’m never without it.”
She grimaced and then pointed at him. “Well, to be honest, that’s oddly reassuring, but I still hate guns. You were going to tell me what made you happy once upon a time.”
“Was I?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“I believe you were, or you were judging how much of it you would tell me. Probably just enough to stop my questions. But just so you know, I dig. That’s why I’m so damn good at what I do. I know everything, and if I don’t, I find the people who know, and I get the information.”
“How?”
“Money.” She smiled again. “See? It makes me happy.”
He leaned forward and looked at his food. “My team made me happy once upon a time.”
“They don’t any longer? What happened?”
He lifted those intense gray eyes. “They’re dead.”
She stopped chewing, realizing the very personal information she’d just asked him to reveal. She put down her chopsticks. “I’m sorry. That isn’t any of my business. I’ll just stop talking now.”
He shook his head and picked up his chopsticks. “Do you remember when Guardian’s headquarters was bombed?”
She stared at him. Oh, God, she’d really been insensitive again, hadn’t she? “I do. Listen, you don’t have to tell me anything else.”
He picked up a piece of beef from his plate and stared at it. “There were other areas where Guardian was attacked. I was in charge of a large team, separated into day and night shifts. I worked almost exclusively with the day shift. I had a supervisor covering the night hours. One of my night shift guys wanted to switch shifts so he could watch his daughter’s dance recital that night and not worry about rushing off afterward. I hadn’t worked a night shift in a while, so I traded with him. While I was napping, getting ready for work, every person on my team was slaughtered.” He dropped the meat and carefully placed the chopsticks on his plate. “Money can’t make me happy, Ms. Callahan. Money can’t bring them back. I don’t want money; it isn’t important to me. It never will be.”
Maya’s eyes filled with tears, but probably not for the reason he thought. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He shrugged and stood up. “Thank you.” He picked up his plate and took it to the counter.
“Elliot, I’m glad you had that.”
He turned and looked at her. His confusion was painted across his face, so she clarified, “I’m glad you had relationships with people that mattered. That you cared for them, and they cared for you. I know you suffered and are probably still suffering from their loss, but I would give every penny I’ve made and any amount I will make to have had a single relationship that was true, where I wasn’t used for who I know or what I have. To have someone that mattered …” She sniffed and wiped at her tears. “That doesn’t exist in my world. I think you’re lucky to have had it even if it was ripped away from you.”
He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “I was lucky.” The words were low, and she barely heard them.
She glanced down at the food, which had hardly been touched. “I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.”
“You didn’t.” He moved back to the table and grabbed another plate. “I’m not a fan of the beef and broccoli. Too sweet for my taste.” He poured a good amount of fried rice onto his plate, then pointed to her dinner. “You should eat.”
She nodded and took a small bite. “I didn’t mean to cause you any pain.”
He shrugged. “I’ve learned how to live with the memories, the guilt, the pain.”
“Guilt?”
“Survivor’s guilt. I had all the classic symptoms. Guilt, depression, isolation. The work I was doing pulled me through it, and I sought professional help, but the memory of responding that day will never go away. As I said, I’ve learned how to live with what happened.” He took a bite of his food before changing the topic. “I’d like to shoot the bastard who taught you relationships weren’t true or possible.”
She blinked and snapped her head up to look at him. “What?”
“Whoever the asshole was who hurt you so bad you don’t believe a true relationship will ever happen for you should be shot. I can do that for you. I have a gun. Just sayin’.”
Maya smiled and then laughed. The ludicrousness of the offer and the cocked eyebrow and half-smile it was said with was meant to lighten the conversation, and it did. She shook her head. “I think the state of New York would be upset with you.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, shooting the son of the senator would be frowned upon, right?”
“Is he the one who hurt you?”
The smile fell from her face. “Hurt? No. Shattered into a million pieces, yes.” Maya shook off the familiar feeling of regret. “But that was years ago, and you know what I’ve found out? He was right . People who exist where I now make my living never make themselves vulnerable. To do so is to make yourself a victim. It was a damn good lesson that has kept me from being used.”
“How so?”
“I fell in love with him. I thought he shared the same feelings. He told me he did. I was young, and at that time, I believed in the charming prince who would ride in and pull me from my circumstances and rescue me.”
“He didn’t rescue you.”
It was a statement, not a question. She shrugged. “His mother and father told him he needed to marry in his class. He suggested he could keep me on the side.” She growled a bit in her throat. “Keep me. Not a chance in hell. Granted, it was a tough lesson, but one that once learned proved to be valuable.”
“A rather caustic way to go through life.”
She shrugged. “I won’t get close to anyone to protect myself.” She reached for another wonton. “Tell me that’s not the same for you.”
Elliot stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and frowned. “For different reasons.”
She nodded in agreement. “True, but the end result is the same. Relationships cause vulnerability, and vulnerability invites a host of problems. Problems neither one of us want to deal with, am I right?”
He stared at her before taking another bite. When he finished chewing, he asked, “How did this conversation go from what makes us happy to you determining neither of us wants to deal with relationships?”
“It’s called the art of conversation.” She pointed at him with the half-eaten wonton in her chopsticks. “We both know something about each other now.”
Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “I knew what I needed to know before the conversation.”
“Maybe, but I didn’t. I didn’t know what type of man you were. I do now. You care deeply. You mourn the loss of your team. You no longer work with a team, so you’re shielding yourself from future hurt. You’re a protector at heart. You bought food for me, and you were mad at what you perceived as a lack of security around me. True, some of that was duty-related.” She paused. “Oh, did you know you have a small tic at the corner of your eye when you get upset? I noticed it today when you opened that box and again when I told you I didn’t set my alarm.”
He reached up and touched his right eye … so he knew. She hadn’t told him which eye had the movement. “Observant.”
“I am.” She leaned back. “Tell me what you’ve learned about me that wasn’t in the information your office gave you.”
Elliot leaned back and stared at her. “You are direct and expect people to disappoint you. You’re a vegetarian or vegan.”
She frowned. “How did you know that?”
“You’ve had white rice, not fried, which has eggs and shrimp. The wonton and egg rolls were stuffed with vegetables, and you made sure of that before you ate it. You haven’t chosen any meat from the array of food on the table. Instead, you searched for the carton of stir-fried veggies.”
“Good call. I’m probably closer to a pescatarian. I do eat seafood occasionally.” She smiled at him. “What else?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. “You come from a poor background.”
She cocked her head. “That was in your briefing?”
“No, it wasn’t. The information on you started in college.”
“Why would you think I’m from a poor background?”
“First, your clothes.”
She frowned. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Nothing, they’re very nice, but they aren’t designer labels. Your home is a penthouse, but you don’t have one-of-a-kind artwork. The furniture isn’t this year’s style or, for that matter, last year’s. Probably because you think spending money on such things is wasteful. You’re frugal. You don’t have a host of people to take care of you. You have one personal assistant. I’m not sure if that’s because you believe you can’t trust people or you don’t want to pay for another salaried employee. The sweatshirt you’re wearing is from your college years, which was a good ten years ago, and your pants are frayed at the hem, and you have a hole in your sock. Finally, you offered to pay for my suit.”
Her toes instinctively curled. She loved those socks and had had them almost as long as she’d had the sweatshirt. “These clothes are comfortable, and you’re right; I don’t trust people,” she admitted. “Why was offering to pay for your suit a tell?”
“Rich people who’ve grown up rich have no idea how much clothes cost. The loss of one suit wouldn’t register as being important.” He shrugged. “Am I correct?”
“You are,” she admitted. “I can’t seem to adopt the wastefulness I see in others. Rideshare is cheaper than hiring a car full-time.” She looked both ways and leaned forward. “I bought this apartment because it was in foreclosure, and I knew the bank wouldn’t jack up the price like a realtor would advise a client to do. They needed to get their investment out of the price. I saved at least a million dollars by cutting out the middleman.”
The smile that spread across his face was dazzling, and it made her catch her breath. The fact she’d filed him away in the no-touch box didn’t seem to matter. He took her breath away like no one had ever done. Letting him stay there and be with her twenty-four hours a day would be harder than she wanted to admit.
Standing, he took his second paper plate to the counter. “I used to provide security for someone like you. A lady who grew up very poor. Her husband grew up poor, too, but ended up being the CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world.”
Her? He’d said husband, right? And why, in the name of everything logical, was she worried about someone he used to know? Lord above, she’d been hit hard, hadn’t she? Don’t ask. Don’t ask. It isn’t any of your business. Stop… oh, hell… She cleared her throat. “What happened to her?”
“She and her family relocated and have someone else taking care of their security. I spent many years with them, and it was her personality I saw in you.”
That’s enough. Don’t ask the question you want to ask. “Were you in love with her?”
He barked out a laugh. “I love that family, but, no, I wasn’t in love with her. I worked for her and her husband for a long time. Their kids call me Uncle Elliot.”
Why that sent relief through her was a fact she didn’t want to acknowledge, but she would. The man was not attached, and that made him even more attractive. Damn it. Maya picked up her plate and took it to the counter. “Well, Uncle Elliot, as I said, we both learned something about each other tonight.” She opened the cabinet where the trash can rested and threw away the trash. “And I still have hours of work to finish.” She returned to the table and started folding the tops of the takeout to put into the fridge. His hand fell on hers, and the electric shock of the touch caused her to jump.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve got this.” Elliot moved his hand away and grabbed several containers.
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She brushed her hands off and smiled again. “Night.”
“I won’t go to sleep until you’re safely in your room for the evening.” His words came from the other side of the refrigerator door.
She left the kitchen and headed to her office. Somehow, his presence with her in her apartment warmed a spot inside her she hadn’t realized was cold.