Don’t judge your client’s behavior
DON’T JUDGE YOUR CLIENT’S BEHAVIOR
Wyatt
My job required me to be attentive at all times, but I sure as shit didn’t sign up to listen to the client join the mile high club with a flight attendant.
“Fuck yeah, feel this big dick.”
A moan that would make a porn star proud broke through the otherwise silent jet, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
I really needed to get Raf to transfer me to a different assignment.
Normally I could ignore the inappropriate behavior of the clients and focus on doing my job with my usual stoic reserve.
Lately, though, I’d had a harder time keeping a neutral expression.
Maybe it was this particular client—he never listened to any of my safety briefs, talked down to women, and didn’t tip his servers.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
I scanned the cabin of the plane, but his secretary was enjoying her reprieve from his sexual advances, and the other flight attendant was trying a little too hard to pretend like she had no idea what her counterpart was doing in the bathroom.
I pulled out my phone and shot off a message to my boss and friend, Rafferty Carmichael—the owner of Carmichael Security.
Me
If any new opportunities come in, I call dibs. I can’t stand this guy for much longer.
Raf
That bad? You’re one of my most patient guys. Should I drop him as a client?
I appreciated that Raf valued my opinion enough to even ask, knowing his business and reputation were on the line. I’d kept thorough notes in my daily logs to him about the client’s activities and behavior.
Me
That’s your call. You’re the boss for a reason.
And he was a damn good one, so I knew he’d do me a solid and reassign me when something new came up.
As I heard my client let out a loud grunt, I sent a silent prayer that Raf would come through soon.
The first thing I did when I walked into my house was open the windows. It had been two weeks since I’d been home, and I hated the stale smell that hung in the air from my house being closed up.
I didn’t mind the travel—I’d been moving around for my jobs since I joined the navy and then the Seals.
It was the emptiness that I was forced to come home to that always got me.
It’s probably why I used to spend so much of my off time with my brother, but that changed once he married his daughter’s best friend, Sadie.
I was happy he was happy, but it got a little hard to watch sometimes. My brother deserved the love of a good woman after what his ex-wife had put him through, but it was another reminder of how my life had turned out much different than I’d expected.
Not to mention walking in on them fucking was not high on my wish list, and it had already happened twice. Those two were lucky they weren’t rabbits or their house would’ve been overrun with kids.
I moved to the fridge that only had one bottle of my favorite IPA and a half-full jar of pickles. It wasn’t that late, and I could probably run to the grocery store if I could’ve mustered up the energy.
As it was, I used the edge of the counter to help me pop off my beer top and then slouched on the couch and flipped through the channels. I didn’t have cable—I wasn’t home enough for it to be worth the cost—but I did have one of the popular streaming services.
I pulled up a documentary on some cult and took a long pull of my beer. I made it through one episode and was just starting the second when my phone started vibrating on my coffee table with an incoming call. I answered as soon as I saw Raf’s name on the display.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I’ve got a new assignment for you.”
I sat up and set my beer down on the coffee table. “Who?”
“I’d rather not say over the phone. Can you come in to the office first thing tomorrow morning?”
He was a paranoid bastard, but that’s why he was the best at what he did.
“Yeah, I’ll be there at eight.”
“See you then.”
He hung up without any other details, and I grabbed my beer and sat back against my couch, wondering who my new client would be. As long as it wasn’t anyone like the dick I’d just been assigned to, I was down.
Raf greeted me as I walked into the main offices for Carmichael Security.
The office was a two-story building with the original brick facade from the 1920s, although everything had been remodeled or cleaned up to make it sturdier than it had been when Raf bought it.
It was polished, old-fashioned, and unassuming—a lot like the owner.
But once you stepped inside, everything was modern technology, and there were five floors beneath the building—although the blueprints only showed four.
The main floor and second floor were used for meeting with clients, while the bottom floors were where training happened and anything else that Raf didn’t want prying eyes on. He had an office both above ground and below, but I knew he only used the one upstairs for show for clients.
Sometimes I thought he felt more comfortable in the dark of the basement offices.
He extended his hand for me to shake, and after I did so, he handed me a folder. “Let’s talk more in my office.”
He headed to the elevator and pressed the down button. The ride down to his primary office was short, and I was surprised by the clutter on his desk. “What’s all this?”
Normally he kept everything pristine and organized. He waved it away. “A project I’m working on.”
I didn’t ask more. I’d learned over the years when Raf wasn’t ready to talk, he became a vault, and it wasn’t worth the time or effort to try to pry him open because he wouldn’t share until he was good and ready.
I sat down in the chair across from his and opened the folder.
Inside was a picture of a pop star I’d seen on magazines at the store.
I’d never listened to her music, but it seemed like she was doing well for herself.
Clearly she was doing even better than I’d given her credit for if she could afford Raf.
“Brynn Davis,” I said, reading the name at the top of the file.
“She’s got a stalker.” He flipped the tablet on his desk around and pressed play on a video that seemed to run on a loop.
“She was sent a phone with this video on it. It was dropped off at her house, but the gate guard didn’t catch who it was.
She also got a text to her personal phone that same day.
” He pointed to the file I was holding, and when I flipped the page, I saw a screenshot of the message.
My brow furrowed as I pored over the papers in my hand.
“She doesn’t have any additional security besides a gate guard?”
“She has a bodyguard on retainer for when she goes out.”
“Who?” I asked, cutting him off from whatever else he was going to say.
“Who do you think?”
There was only one other company in LA at our level, and they were constantly cutting corners. Raf didn’t allow any of our clients to only use us for public appearances. There was at least one man on the premises or a very expensive security system and strict protocol if we were hired.
“When do I start?”
“Today too soon?”
The corner of my lips tilted up. “Nope.” It’s not like I had anything exciting going on at home.
I could only hope Brynn Davis wasn’t some shallow pop princess who would drive me up a goddamn wall like so many others had in the past.
This was just another job.