Chapter 10 #2
“That’s what I’d hoped you say.” Eric signals to our server for the check. “Why don’t I take care of this, and you can get a head start on changing. There’s supposed to be some riding clothing waiting for you with the club’s concierge.”
Amanda has really thought of everything.
I’ll have to thank her the next time I see her.
I thank Eric for lunch and practically skip out the door.
This date may have started off a little rough, but it’s gone better than I could have hoped.
And now we’re going riding. I can’t imagine a better way to spend the afternoon.
Maybe I was wrong about Eric earlier. He’s been easy to get along with. Nothing is forced. There are way more positive takeaways so far than negatives. At this rate, he’s well on his way to earning a second date with me, which I can’t believe I’m even thinking about.
When I push the door open, Art jumps to his feet from a chair. A book drops from his hands. “Ma’am.”
Reaching down to pick it up, I glance at the title. “The Layman’s Guide to All Things Engineering. Doing a bit of light reading?” I joke.
“Yes.” He can’t grab the book from my hands fast enough, shoving it under his arm as if he’s hiding it.
Angela appears in the hallway with two coffees in hand. “Your Highness. Are you finished with your luncheon?” She offers a coffee to Art.
“Yes, we are. We’re planning to go for a ride next.”
Angela nods to Art. “This one is on you, mate. Horses and I don’t mix unless they can fly.”
It doesn’t dawn on me until then that unlike Bruce, I doubt either of my new agents has any riding experience.
“Is it possible to ring Bruce and ask him to meet us?” My old agent has increased the amount of time he’s spent away from me in favor of sending Angela and Art out in the field, but he’s still technically in charge for a little while longer.
“Not needed. I can ride.”
I turn my attention toward Art. He’s standing stiffly, as if it’s the last thing on Earth he wants to do. He’s opening and closing his left hand. I wonder if that’s one of his nervous habits.
“Can you canter?”
Angela snorts as she sips her coffee. “He’d better be able to. He was with the Met’s mounted patrol before he transferred over to the protection side.”
Art was a mounted police officer? He’s never said anything to me.
I glance away as my cheeks warm. I feel like that’s something I should’ve known.
Then again, he isn’t one who volunteers much information to me.
Not that he’s supposed to. Technically speaking, as he might say, it’s not proper protocol.
I manage a smile. “Brilliant. You can borrow one of my horses. I’d hate to leave Sefton behind in the stables. ”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d better go grab my kit from the car.”
Art departs and leaves Angela and me alone. We walk up the stairs to the member services desk, which houses the club’s concierge.
“Art is full of surprises. What else is he hiding?”
“A lot.” Angela laughs. “But don’t bother asking me about them. They’re his secrets to share, not mine.”
“I doubt he’d ever willingly share them with me.”
“I don’t know, I bet he would. You’re already getting him to actually speak to you quicker than any person I’ve met.”
“I am?” I blink, surprised.
“Mm-hmm. We’ve been partners since we entered the training academy, and it took about six months for me to be able to hold a decent conversation with him.”
We pause a few feet from the concierge desk. “Is he quiet around the rest of the security team too?”
“Yes.” Angela lowers her voice. “Some of the daytime shift call him the human robot behind his back.”
I exhale sharply. “Are you serious? That’s horrid.
” He’s quiet, but he’s by no means a robot.
He has lots of different expressions; it just takes some time to discover them.
Like when he needs coffee, he grunts. When he’s hangry, his tone is clipped.
When he is embarrassed, the tips of his ears and back of his neck redden.
If I ever hear someone using that nickname, they’ll find themselves receiving a dressing down from me that would rival one from Papa. If there’s one thing I refuse to tolerate, it’s name-calling. Words are far more powerful and hurtful than people give them credit for.
“I agree with you one hundred percent. Art may not be a man of many words, but he’s absolutely brilliant at his job.
He’s one of those people who notices when the slightest thing is amiss, like the time there was a suspicious package left in front of HQ.
Some officers walked right by it, but not Art.
He noticed it straightaway and called in the experts.
He even recently set the department’s new bench-press record.
If I were in your shoes, Art’s the man I’d want protecting me.
Your father personally selected him for you. ”
“Do you hold any department records?”
“Distance running.” Angela smirks. “None of the lads can keep up with me.”
I high-five her. “I’m lucky to have you on board too.”
We reach the concierge desk, and I pick up the clothing that’s been left for me. As I step into the changing room, I wonder just what type of riding kit Art will be dressed in.