Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
BILLY’S BLOOMS AND MACAROONS
Shaw
Past
“I saw her eyes in every star in the sky.” – S
T here has always been a certain calmness about a night sky full of stars. Even amidst the darkness, those tiny, luminous orbs of plasma manage to let light shine through. It’s a breathtaking sight that has always brought peace to my soul since I was a young boy.
Tonight, the moon shines brightly, and the weather is a perfect balance—not too cold, not too hot. It’s just right.
Spring in D.C. is different from Montana. Everything is different here than back home. Everything.
Fuck, who would’ve thought the young punk born and raised surrounded by horse shit and western hospitality has just signed a contract to start bodyguard duty for none other than the only child of the President of the United States of America, Ellaiza Kenton.
I meet the five-year-old three days ago at one of her father’s presidential rallies while he announces his plans to run again. My cousin, Ben, asks me to meet up with him so I can get a feel for what the job entails. I know when he calls me up to offer me the job as soon as I get out of high school last month that it won’t be an easy task. Not because the family is difficult, but because guarding someone’s life is no joke, and guarding the heart of the Commander-in-Chief—that’s another thing entirely.
There’s also the fact that I’m no good with kids. Well, I haven’t been around them much. I am an only child, and so is Ben.
I worry I’ll fuck this up and end up back home in less than a month.
“Don’t fuck this up.” My cousin reads my mind and warns me as we stroll along the illuminated path that leads us through the White House’s Garden.
“I won’t.” I hiss, feeling annoyed already by his comment. I wish he had more faith in me. I’m not the same punk that got into trouble every chance he could, testing not only Ma’s last nerve but authority as well. I have doubts about this job and my ability to guard someone’s life, but fuck it, I wish the man who’s like a brother to me had more confidence in me.
Ben, sensing my change in mood, stops and turns to look at me. His eyes, the same shade as mine, pin me in place. I see worry and love there. Shit. He loves this kid as if she were his own. The President is someone important to him too. Understanding dawns on me. “These people are my family too, Shaw,” Ben says, staring straight at me. “You’re a part of theirs now. This will be good for you. You’ll see.” He claps my shoulder tightly. “But if you hurt that little girl in any way, cousin or not, I will break your fucking face.” He threatens viciously.
I don’t have a chance to answer when the sweetest voice sounds through the garden. “Mister Happy, may I offer you a cup of tea?” A little girl dressed in pink—from the large bow in her hair to the pointy shoes on her feet—holds a tiny teacup towards a small blue bear with a pebble for an eye.
Ellaiza.
“There my little lady is…” Ben, the big oaf, booms.
The little girl gently sets the toy kettle down on the small table and then turns to us, beaming with the biggest smile.
Her smile is infectious.
“Hero!” The First Daughter gasps in excitement, stands up, and hurries towards us, completely forgetting her imaginary guests at the table.
“What about me?” Ben feigns hurt. “You wound me, Ellaiza.”
Ellaiza rolls her eyes playfully at her honorary uncle. “I see you all the days, Uncle Benji.” She extends her small hand towards Ben. “Did you bring something for our guests?”
Ben laughs and drops down to her level. It’s almost comical how big my cousin is compared to the child. “There’s one problem, though.”
“What is it?”
Ben places one chocolate cupcake with pink frosting on the table. “I only brought one for you.”
Ellaiza touches her chin with her index finger as if in deep thought, then her smile brightens, and her eyes grow wide. “That’s okay! We can all share!” Then the little girl with a trust fund that could most likely end world hunger breaks her tiny cupcake into pieces and shares it with us and her stuffed guest.
“Ella, you made a mess.” Ben’s laugh could surely be heard across the West Wing.
“Life is messy, Uncle Benji!” The little girl exclaims as she stuffs her face with what’s left of the cupcake.
My cousin looks up at me and grins, then turns his attention back to the little girl. “Those are some wise words, little lady.”
“I’m very wise!” Ellaiza jumps in place, joy lighting up her chubby face.
“That you are, my girl. That you are.”
I stand there in awe of this child’s kindness and how sweet this moment feels. So innocent and so kind. No wonder there’s so much love in my cousin’s heart for this girl and her father. We never had this back home. The air never felt this sweet in Montana.
“Hero, don’t you like cupcakes?” The soft voice interrupts my thoughts. I glance down at the small piece of chocolate cupcake and then at the girl. I hate chocolate. I hate sweets. Yet, I eat the cupcake and smile at her.
The first thing my cousin shared about the First Daughter is her fondness for all things sweet, particularly pink-frosted chocolate cupcakes.
“You are very kind, Ellaiza. Thank you.” I speak with my mouth full.
Her blue eyes narrow. “Ella. Not Ellaiza, please.”
Please.
This little girl belongs in a fairytale or a magical realm somewhere.
“Ella,” I try again.
“You’re going to be my guard?” She tilts her small head and I watch all those dark curls bounce with the move. “Uncle Benji says you are.”
“That’s right, Ella—” Her eyes narrow comically, and I try not to laugh. “Ella.”
“Magical!” She jumps up and down, causing my cousin to laugh and making my chest feel light. “We friends now, Shaw Bear.”
“Shaw Bear?” I frown at the curious nickname.
She nods once. “Yes, Shaw Bear.” Ella points toward her stuffed bear and smiles. “You look like Mr. Happy!”
Mr. Happy.
Her favorite stuffed toy from what I’ve heard from Ben.
“Friends?” The little girl repeats herself, her expression now tinged with worry, yet her kind smile remains firmly in place.
Then she does something most adults never do.
The tiny girl with stars in her blue eyes extends her small chocolate-covered hand my way and offers me her friendship and, with it, her small sweetheart.
I take her hand in mine, not caring at all that mine is now covered in chocolate and frosting because this tiny girl does what no one has ever dared or succeeded before. Ellaiza Kenton melts my heart that night, and for a year, she is the best friend I ever had.
She makes my job at the White House easy.
She illuminates everyone’s dark skies.
Especially mine.
Now
It’s the late afternoon, and I’m in the stables, getting my Appaloosa horse, Peppermint, back after a long ride around my land. Even after the ride under the sunny skies and breathing in fresh air, my mind is still a mess, and my chest still feels like there’s a big hole in it, sucking all the air. “Fuck, boy.” I pet my horse’s long mane gently. Peppermint was my mother’s favorite horse, and he’s also the first horse I ever rode.
I’m the only one who gets to be this close to him. Not even Phoenix, who is the favorite human of the other horses, gets this close. Not Peppermint.
My perceptive horse sighs as if he understands me. Sometimes I truly believe he does.
“I think I fucked up.” I breathe out as I stare into Peppermint’s dark eyes. “I’m an asshole.”
The sarcastic-as-fuck animal nickers while I let out a deep breath. Ellaiza’s sad face flashes through my mind, and it feels like a punch to the gut. Why? Why do I care if I hurt the girl’s feelings? I’ve never cared before if I made anyone feel like shit.
Then her lovely face flashes in my mind again, but this time she’s no longer sad—she’s mad. Really fucking mad. Mad and disappointed.
And me? Well… I don’t even fucking know anymore. I’m annoyed and angry. Not at her. Not mostly.
I’ve been alone for so long, alone and empty, that now, in a matter of a days—or shit, in a matter of hours—I’m feeling things I haven’t since life taught me just how stupid it is to care.
My back pocket starts to buzz. I pull out my phone and check who’s calling.
“Not this again,” I mumble as I watch the phone ring without answering.
This is the third call today that I’ve ignored.
When I agreed to guard the girl’s life, I made it clear that I would only deal with my cousin, not the Kentons. The former president has made his feelings about me clear since the very first day I started working for him so long ago.
I don’t measure up.
I’m not good enough in his eyes for him and his picture-perfect family.
I know I don’t bleed American royal blood like they do, but I won’t stand for anyone making me feel like shit. I might not be American royalty or filthy rich, but I’m a good fucking man. I’ve worked hard for everything I have, yet Sebastian Kenton still makes me feel like that punk eighteen-year-old kid again.
Still, I owe him, and it kills me that I do. One day I won’t, and that day can’t come fast enough.
I ignore the call and return the phone to my pocket.
Shortly after, another buzzing sound— a text message, no doubt another threat to my life from my former boss. Still, I choose to ignore it.
Peppermint blows his nose as thoughts of the lovely girl with indigo eyes take over my traitorous brain.
Looking over my shoulder back at the ranch house, I think about how she hasn’t left her room all day, not even when I knocked at her door for lunch.
Has she eaten? I wonder.
Have my cruel words caused damage? I think back to what I said to her and how her pretty smile had fallen from her face the moment my mocking words hit their mark.
Fuck.
Then, suddenly, every image of Ellaiza Kenton smiling back at me with stars in her eyes flashes through my mind, hitting me all at once. Once again, I find myself struggling to breathe. What the hell is wrong with me?
More images hit me.
Ella at the clothing store, dressed from head to toe in pink with cowboy boots and a smile on her face.
Ella munching on pink macaroons and chocolate cupcakes.
Flowers.
The color pink.
Happiness.
Her.
So kind and pure, even when I hurt her with my careless attitude and angry words. Not once did she lose control, hurled insults my way, or acted like a royal brat.
Shit.
I messed up.
Her sad smile haunted me until I can’t fucking take it anymore.
Then an idea pops into my head—a pretty fucking stupid one.
“See you later, boy.” I scratch Peppermint’s mane. He grunts, as if asking where I’m headed. I must be losing my mind. I’m talking to a fucking horse. Yet, I answer him anyway because something about Peppermint has always soothed my soul. “I’m going to make a fool out of myself just to make the sweet heiress smile again. Wish me fucking luck.” With that, I head out of the stables and make my way into town.
And all the way there, all I can think about is young Ella sharing her favorite treat with me and offering me her friendship. “ We friends now, Shaw Bear.”
My words and attitude hurt the girl—the girl who is no longer so little but has the same big heart.
Dammit.
The first stop I make instantly makes me regret leaving the ranch as soon as I step inside the tiny, colorful store. Billy’s Blooms. A place filled with cheerful voices, loud country music, and a hippie-looking girl who loves poking her pointy nose into my business whenever she catches me around town.
I’d rather not go inside—her cheerfulness can be too much to handle. But it’s the only one in town, so I guess I have to suck it up and get out of here as quickly as possible without hurting another girl’s feelings with my sour mood and shitty attitude.
“No way. Are my eyes seeing what they think they are?”
Yeah, I’m regretting this already.
“Billy,” I greet.
“Well, if it isn’t none other than Shaw Banning.” Billy Bloom—yes, that’s her legal name given to her by her equally cuckoo but very lovable mother, Sunny Bloom—stands behind the counter, which is covered from one end to the other in flower arrangements. Business is always booming since it’s the only flower shop in town. Mother and daughter run it together along with two other businesses.
The petite blonde with her hair cascading in long waves, smiles wickedly. Happiness radiates from her, much like it once did from Ella. “What a pleasant surprise,” she laughs joyfully. “I must confess, I never thought I’d see you inside my shop,” she grins as if she knows something I don’t. “Must be that girl, huh!” she claps excitedly.
The fuck…
The background music abruptly stops, and I notice several women whispering among themselves, their gazes fixed on me.
This is why I hate leaving the ranch. This fucking town is as happy and welcoming as can be, but the people here do love to gossip.
My instincts are on high alert as I try not to give anything away about my client.
Then something on the wall catches my attention—a small TV. There, Ellaiza’s face is plastered on the screen while some lady talks in the background. Undoubtedly, more gossip and conspiracy theories are swirling around her disappearance.
I need to deal with that before it blows up and makes guarding her more difficult. Maybe she should post on her social media as if nothing is going on. That might get them to stop and move on to the next hot and vain topic.
“Golden boy.” Billy’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn away from the TV and look at her again.
Golden boy. How I hate that name. She’s not the only one who calls me that. Most people in town do. My cousin, Ben, used to call me “Golden Boy” when we were younger, and everyone else picked up on it, feeling like they had a right to do so.
I don’t say shit. I never do.
Breathing through my nose, I lean forward and then say through gritted teeth, “Can you keep a secret, Bloom?”
No, she can’t.
Her green eyes sparkle as if the idea of a shared secret between us makes her happy. The girl is too kind for this world, I admit.
“I need flowers.”
“I guessed that,” she smirks.
Clearing my throat, feeling uncomfortable as fuck, I try again. “What flowers do you suggest?”
“It depends,” she says, leaning back with a serious expression crossing her face.
“Depends on…?” I lean back, raising a questioning brow.
“How bad you messed up, I guess.” Billy shrugs.
She’s kind and smart—too smart.
I sigh and ponder for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because the next thing I know, Billy leaves her spot behind the counter and stands next to me.
“When you think of her, what color comes to mind?”
Ella’s face flashes through my mind, and a warm sensation spreads through my chest.
Another long moment passes before I speak. “Pink,” I mumble, feeling annoyed.
“Pink is good. This is good. We can work with pink. Now, we’re getting somewhere.” Billy then moves toward my right and stops next to a table with dozens of pink roses. Shit. There’s more. “And what word would you say best describes her?”
“Sweet. Sweet and too damn kind,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling even more irritated than when I arrived.
“Bingo!” Billy says happily. “And we have a winner.”
I watch as she picks brown paper and pink ribbons, then I stand back in silence as she works her magic.
After a while of just watching, I ask, “Why those?”
I know why she chose them. I also know who supplies her with the lovely flowers. I do.
Billy doesn’t look away from what she’s doing but answers me anyway. “Pink tulips are known for meaning affection, caring, good wishes, and love.” I cough at that, but before I can get a word in, she interrupts. “And you, my friend, need all the luck you can get.”
“What makes you think that?” I ask curiously, feeling too damn exposed.
“You haven’t set foot inside this store since, well… never. But here you are, and a man only buys flowers for a woman when he’s in love or when he’s messed up. Trust me, I know.” Her eyes turn sad, and her whole happy demeanor shifts.
I know that expression. That’s the face of a girl who has been hurt.
“Someone hurt you, Billy?”
The question makes her smile, but it’s a smile that resembles the ones Ella Kenton has given me since she arrived—sad smiles. Fake smiles.
“Haven’t we all been hurt once or twice?” she says softly, just before handing me the perfectly crafted bouquet. “Here you go, Shaw.”
I want to ask her more, unsettled by how quickly her mood has shifted, but I hold back. Who am I to question anything when she’s right? We’ve all been hurt and will most likely be hurt again more than once in life. It’s inevitable. Trust me, I would know.
Instead, I ask, “How much do I owe you?”
She waves me off. “It’s on the house, Golden Boy. It’s always nice to see a man willing to grovel.” She chuckles, and the ladies behind me seem to swoon along with her. “So dreamy…” she adds.
I shake my head at her dramatics. Reaching inside my back pocket, I take a couple of bills and drop them in her tip jar before heading for the exit.
“Hey, that’s too much!” she calls out after me.
“See you around, Billy.”
Then I leave the store, ready to climb inside my truck when I see a tiny shop that looks like the color pink vomited all over it. There’s a huge pink macaroon on top of it next to a sign that reads, Sunny’s Sweets.
I smile at that. Not a very clever name, yet it’s catchy—just like the owner.
Another thought pops into my head, and I sigh heavily, feeling exasperated. Turn around, Shaw. Get in the damn car and drive back to the ranch.
Do I do that?
No. What I do is drop the flowers on the back seat of my truck and head in the direction of the pastry shop. I’m going mad. There’s no doubt about that.