CHAPTER SEVEN
By the time Detective Ortega arrived with a couple of uniformed officers to take our statements and drag our attacker away, a couple of hours had gone by.
Sam, Adelaide, and Bon arrived to help deal with the press then Bon took Ziggy to the hospital to get his arm looked at while Sam and Adelaide escorted me home.
It all happened with military-like precision. These people knew their business.
Not that I didn’t want to go to the hospital with Ziggy, but I wasn’t really given the option.
Sam firmly told me that my presence there would not be a good idea.
Understandable. Calls and text messages were blowing up my phone all evening and well into the night.
(Apart from letting Mom know I was okay, I ignored them.) If I’d gone with him to the hospital then there’d have been a media storm there which would not have been cool.
The man needed his arm stitched up, not to have the spotlight thrust on him yet again.
So I’d gone home, taken off my make-up, and changed into some sweat pants and a battered “The Cure” T-shirt that hadn’t seen better days since the previous century. It was my comfort clothing.
By this time, I felt reasonably mentally fortified enough to check out the situation on my cell. And what a clusterfuck it was. Video of the attack and Ziggy taking down the asshole had already gone viral. The thought of how close he’d come to being seriously injured kind of made me want to hurl.
“Interesting use of a head butt,” said Sam, sitting on the couch opposite me with a cup of coffee in one hand and his cell in the other. God knows how many times he’d watched the footage.
Adelaide had remained downstairs in the lobby keeping an eye on the paparazzi out by the front door.
“Best get this to our lawyer in case the idiot tries for excessive force,” he muttered, more to himself than me.
“Does that happen often?”
He gave me a small smile. “No, not often. And not when there’s so much clear footage of the incident. He clearly came at you with a knife. There’s no way a judge would fall for it.”
“I don’t want Ziggy getting into trouble because of me.” I cradled my bottle of beer in two hands, huddled in the corner of the couch. “He’s already been hurt.”
“Miss Cooper, you didn’t bring any of this on yourself. Ziggy did his job and did it well,” said Sam. “Once the threat was dealt with, he waited calmly for the police to arrive and take charge of the scene. Nothing more.”
I nodded.
“It’ll be fine.”
“Sure,” I said, but I didn’t really believe it.
No idea when I fell asleep exactly. I’d told Sam I’d be fine if he wanted to head home, but he’d stayed.
Turned out he was into old black and white movies.
Or maybe that was just his sneaky bodyguard trick to distract shocked clients with something safe and familiar.
If so, it worked. Half way through Casablanca or so was about the last thing I remembered.
Now there were voices, neither of which belonged to Bogart or Bergman.
“…injured, but also you’re off the clock. Sure you should be here?” asked Sam.
“I’m fine,” answered Ziggy.
“Not talking about your arm. I saw how you were looking at her last night and today.”
Nothing from Ziggy.
“Figured you’d be coming by. That’s why I waited around, to have a word with you.”
“Regarding what?” asked Ziggy.
“You know it never works out, getting involved with a client. You’ve seen that before. We both have.”
Oh, boy.
For a moment, no one said anything. Then Ziggy cleared his throat. “You should go. Martha will be wondering where you are.”
“She knows where I am. That’s the thing about relationships…
making them work is complicated. Takes a lot of effort,” said Sam.
“And if you’re not committed to putting in serious effort, don’t go there at all.
Especially for someone you’ve known for what…
a couple of days? Easy enough for a guy like you to find some company for the night without doing potential damage to my business and your reputation. ”
Ziggy sighed.
“She seems like a good woman.”
“She is and I hear what you’re saying, all right?”
“Right then,” said Sam. “Good work today.”
The front door clicked quietly closed.
Footsteps moved toward me, the couch shifting slightly with his weight as he sat. “You should be in bed.” His voice was quiet, contemplative. “You’re not going to get a decent sleep on the couch.”
I slowly opened my eyes and stretched. “Hey. How’d you do at the hospital?”
“Fine. Why aren’t you in bed instead of crashing out here?”
“You’re not the boss of me.” I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face. Odds were I looked like roadkill, but whatever. “Show me your arm.”
He angled his body slightly, displaying the white bandage peeking out from beneath the edge of his black tee and going down almost to his elbow.
The suit and so on were gone. Guess his clothes had been stained with blood.
Now he wore jeans and sneakers. A much more relaxed look though every bit as hot as the suits. “Eighteen stitches. Not much to see.”
“That’s a lot of stitches.”
“And I didn’t even cry once.”
“You’re such a tough guy.”
“That’s why you pay me.” He rose to his feet, keeping his gaze averted. “Okay, Miss Cooper. You’ve seen my owie. Time for you to get to bed and for me to go home.”
“Where is home, you never said?”
And apparently he wasn’t going to say now, either.
Right. Privacy and all that. Professionalism.
It was important. I didn’t need personal details about this man no matter how much I might like to have them.
Today, the lines had gotten a little blurred.
But it was time to put them firmly back in place. Boundaries mattered.
I got to my feet, noting how much smaller I seemed standing next to his bulk.
Weird. Yet my heart felt about a billion times bigger and heavier than normal.
Maybe I was coming down with the flu. It was as good an excuse as any.
A love sickness of some sort seemed the most likely.
Stupid me. “Ziggy, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry you got hurt today because of me.
And thank you for stopping him. I’d probably be deceased right now if you hadn’t been there. ”
A nod.
This was good. This was for the best. Him being distant and professional. Me not being a hot mess. On the outside at least. It would be best for everyone concerned if this thing between us never got started. That would be the adult, smart thing to do.
“Sam said Adelaide would be available to take over for the next few days,” I said. “So you can have some time off.”
“I told him that wouldn’t be necessary.”
“I, um, I think it is a good idea.” So many feelings. It hurt to hold them all inside.
“Respectfully, Miss Cooper, I do not need time off.” He sounded stern times a thousand. Ziggy Thayer was an unhappy boy indeed. “I am more than capable of continuing to do my job.”
“I’ve made up my mind,” I said, turning my back on him. Dammit. My bottom lip had turned traitor and started to tremble. My eyes were welling with tears. Not helpful at all. I blinked furiously, forcing it all back down.
“May I ask why?”
“Why?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Why the hell do you think?” What an idiotic specimen of the male species. Seriously. I spun back around with a frown in place. “Because you got hurt today. Because of me.”
His gaze narrowed. “Are you crying?”
“No.” I wiped away a tear with the back of my hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can go now.”
“I’m not leaving you when you’re upset.”
“Well, I’m not going to stop being upset until you leave.”
He raised a brow. “Guess we’ve got a problem then.”
“You’re serious? Seriously? You’re refusing to leave?”
“That’s right.”
“Enough. I’m done.” Give me strength. I pointed my finger at him in a very hostile manner. “You, Ziggy Thayer, are frustrating and annoying and confusing and I don’t like you very much right now so you should leave and not come back for several days.”
“That so?”
“Yes, I…stop questioning everything.”
“How else am I going to find things out?”
I looked to heaven. Then I crossed my arms over my chest because even the flimsiest of defenses was better than nothing. “What things exactly do you need to find out? Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Good night.”
He cocked his head, leveling me with that stare.
“What?”
“You’re allowed to ask questions and I’m not?”
“Oh my God,” I groaned. “How much blood exactly did you lose because honestly you’re kind of acting crazy?”
“Yeah, I know. You should probably make a complaint about me. Want me to fetch your cell so you can call Sam?”
“You think I won’t?”
“I honestly have no idea what you’re going to do, Mae.” He took a deep breath. “I had every intention of coming in here, checking you were fine, then leaving. That’s it.”
I shrugged. “So what happened?”
“Then you started talking. Then you got upset. And now…I don’t know.
” There was no professional blank to his face now.
If anything, the man seemed to be holding back an excess of emotion.
His lips were a fine line, his brow furrowed.
“This is the problem, whenever I’m around you, every rational thought goes straight out the damn window.
I honestly don’t know if I’m coming or going. ”
I gasped in outrage. “Me? What did I do?”
“Just walking around breathing and being you, mostly.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“I know,” he said, voice resigned. “Funny you should say that thing about how frustrating and annoying and confusing I am. Because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”
“But I’m just a job to you. You shouldn’t have feelings for me.”
“Wish to hell I didn’t. It’d make things a fuck of a lot less complicated.”
I just stared.
“I like my life how it is,” he continued. “I’ve got work and family and friends. It’s all good. Maybe in five or ten years I’d be interested in marriage and kids, but not now. Let alone not with someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“That’s right.”
A fiery rage burned within. “Good news, Ziggy. I don’t recall either proposing to you or offering to bear your spawn. You’re free to go, buddy. The door’s right there. Don’t let it hit your ass on the way out!”
The man just smiled. Like I wasn’t about to attack him with my perfect French nail polish. Scour his face with lines and all the rest. What’s worse was, as soon as I saw his smile, my knees turned to water. Oh, man.
“Mae, I spend enough time dealing with photographers and fans at work. Of course I was wary of inviting that sort of thing into my private life,” he said.
“However, it’s a part of your life and that’s good enough for me.
But you should know, I’m never going to be able to buy you a Bentley or take you on a private jet to Paris.
Often I have to work late or travel. No matter how much I want to, I’m not always going to be able to be with you. Can you accept that?”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“It’s pretty much the only thing I’ve been thinking about since I met you.”
And that was big. That was really big. Scarily huge, in fact.
“So what do you say?” he asked calmly. “We could try just fucking, see if we lose interest in each other. But I honestly don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.”
“Huh.”
He waited. I stared. Not much else happened. “Mae, it’s been a shit of a day. And as much fun as this is, I’m exhausted and so are you. What do you say we call it a night and if you want, we can keep arguing some more about it in the morning over breakfast?”
I had nothing.
“I’ll sleep in the chair in your room again. No need to rush things. You can think everything over and let me know when you reach a decision. No pressure, okay?”
My head was a mess.
“Fact of it is, I can’t walk away from you. Already tried going home instead of coming here tonight.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, knew it was the smart thing to do. But I couldn’t do it.”
“I would have been so worried.” It was nothing less than the truth. “Probably wouldn’t have slept at all. I mean, I would have understood, but…”
He nodded. “I know. I needed to see you too.”
I stood there, thinking deep thoughts. My head was a mess and my heart wasn’t much better. Though at the heart of the matter, the man had a point. In fact, he had several of them.
“What do you say, Miss Cooper?”
I raised my chin. “You know I hate it when you call me that?”
“Yes, I do.”
My gaze narrowed and he smiled again. Such an ass. A smokin’ hot one, though. Along with being smart, funny, sweet, and brave. Oh God, I was on the verge of swooning. Game over. “So let me get this straight. My options are, have sex with you, or have sex and attempt a relationship with you?”
“Or there’s number three,” he said. “We go back to being purely professional and never talk about this again. If you’d feel more comfortable, I can have Sam bring in someone else to watch you until the paparazzi leave you alone and you don’t require our services anymore.
Whatever you choose, I would still like to crash here tonight.
You’d feel safer and get a decent night’s sleep and I’d feel better knowing you weren’t alone and freaking out after everything that’s happened.
I can even sleep out here on the couch if you’d prefer instead of in your room. ”
“But you’re off the clock, Sam said so.”
“I’m not here to get paid, Mae. I’m here because of you.”