Chapter 2 Lexi #2
A red stripe crawls from Justin’s neck to his earlobe. No matter what some may think, I’m not totally obtuse. I’m dropping a ton of information and it could be overwhelming. But I need to get it out of the way so there’s zero miscommunication as to who’s in charge when I’m working.
‘Prior to exiting the vehicle, I’ll conduct a soft evaluation of the perimeter.
You’ll wait for me to open the door and we’ll always have a driver with us.
’ I glance at the notes I don’t need. ‘You’re expected to listen to me if I detect an escalation and your safety is compromised.
We cannot debate on this. My only job is to keep you alive.
If I feel there’s a potential threat, we leave, no questions asked. You’ll need to trust me. Understood?’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Justin’s dark eyebrows fold into a fierce scowl.
‘Trust you? I don’t even know you. We met less than five minutes ago.
’ Justin shifts his fury-filled expression to Anthony.
‘Am I the president? Secure the perimeter? Are you guys actually serious? This is ridiculous. Totally overzealous.’ He stands, pulls in a sharp breath, then softens his shoulders.
‘Listen, Doc. Thanks for coming, but there’s been some miscommunication. Anthony, please see her out.’
Whew. Thank you to my sweet, holy bodyguard gods for watching over me in my time of need.
‘Excellent.’ That chair might be the cushiest thing I’ve sat on in years but I leap from it like it’s burning my ass. ‘I can show myself out, thank you.’
Anthony’s chair screeches across the pale hardwood floors as he jumps up. ‘Doc, hold up. Please wait.’ He stands between me and Justin like a small, awkward referee. ‘Justin, there’s a reason we invited Doc here. I, ah, I don’t want you to worry, but we received some alarming letters—’
‘What are you talking about?’ Justin’s gaze flickers between Anthony and me.
God dammit. I remain stone-faced and silent with the notebook curled in my grip, but a low pinch tightens in my chest. This is why we tell clients everything. It’s not fair when they don’t know the truth.
Anthony inhales a shaky breath. ‘Some fan is, let’s say, overexcited and the studio’s frazzled. They’re investing a ton in your next film and there’s some concern this may shut down production.’
Justin’s eyes narrow. ‘Why would this shut down production?’
‘People are just being more cautious nowadays.’ Anthony shifts his weight from his left to right hip, looking everywhere from the espresso machine to the crystal fruit bowls, to the window overlooking the pool, but not Justin.
‘With so much polarization, fighting, politically we’re so divided …
I think the studio is doing this out of an abundance of caution. ’
Well, that’s certainly a way to spin this.
Justin flicks his gaze between me and Anthony. ‘Should I be worried? What are you not telling me?’
I fight the urge to pull my lips into my mouth – a dead giveaway that we’re hiding something – and keep my face as neutral as possible.
Anthony clears his throat. ‘No, I mean, nothing that you need to be concerned about. Not really, anyway.’
‘Then we don’t need her,’ Justin says like I’m not even here.
‘Yes, we do.’ Anthony’s tone is clipped and he firms his shoulders.
A long, tense moment passes. ‘This is bullshit,’ Justin finally says. ‘Talk to the studio.’
‘I did.’ Anthony frowns. ‘I’m sorry, man, but they’re not backing down.’
‘This is ridiculous.’ Justin drags his hands down his face. ‘You’re saying I need to be monitored? Pre-planned trips? Have her in my house?’
Can he not see that I’m literally standing right here? I silently exhale through my nose.
‘Justin, you’re already used to having people in your home,’ Anthony’s voice is calm. I wonder how many times he has to coddle this guy in a week. ‘Your housekeeper, staff, maintenance …’
‘People working in my home is one thing. But people just watching me? Twenty-four hours a day? That’s awkward as hell.’ Justin crosses his arms like a spoiled, defiant child. ‘I’m not doing it.’
‘Fine,’ Anthony says with a sharp tone. ‘Then I’ll let the studio know you’re dropping out of this project.’
Justin opens his mouth then snaps it shut.
I don’t know Justin, at all, but I read people for a living.
He’s pissed, obviously, but clearly weighing his options.
Heavy sighs leave his chest as he tilts his head to me, then Anthony, then inhales sharply.
When he glances back at me, fire blazes through hazel eyes.
‘I’ll do this. But you better make yourself invisible. ’
Absolutely fucking not. I’m out. For twelve years, I rose in the ranks at the firm, starting as a trainee, then bodyguard, then lead bodyguard and now executive protection specialist. I sacrificed my marriage, my friendships, my family, to serve and protect and am considered the top in my field.
I refuse to coddle some man-child tripping on his ego.
This pretty boy can take these threats and choke on them.
‘Nope. This is not what I signed up for,’ I say, masking the severe irritation in my tone. ‘I’m a professional, the best in the business, hired by your team. I refuse to be treated as an annoyance.’
‘But it is an annoyance. You must see that, right?’
This is why I don’t protect pampered men.
Who the hell does he think he is? He’s acting like he’s doing me the favor.
Sure, this is my job. And he may not believe it but I’m the top requested agent at our firm, and normally, when I’m assigned to someone, they’re ecstatic.
Not irritated. My ego may be getting the best of me, but I don’t care.
The case is settled – Justin Greenwood is an asshole.
‘I need to circle back with the director,’ I say. ‘We have nearly fifty agents in our company and over three hundred subcontractors who can fill this position.’ I grab the Jeep keys from my pocket and beeline for the door. ‘Justin will be in good hands with someone else.’
‘Guys. Stop. Listen to me.’ Anthony’s voice cuts through the tension with the most force I’ve heard from him since this disastrous meeting started.
‘The studio security and management team all agree it must be you, Doc, and no one else. We spent hours sifting through potential security details, and you’re the perfect match. I must insist. Please.’
Justin exhales through his nose. ‘I don’t get it. Why her?’ he says. ‘She clearly doesn’t want to be here, and I’m not really feeling it either.’
Well, at least he’s honest.
Anthony glances at the tips of his fingers, strands of his blond hair dipping into his eyes. If I knew him better, I’d say he looks sheepish.
‘If needed …’ Anthony clears his throat, then squares his shoulders. ‘If needed, we can pass her off as your girlfriend.’
‘Hell. No.’ Justin’s face tightens as he glances at me then back at Anthony. ‘Absolutely not.’
I swallow silently but stay expressionless.
‘Perfect, then we agree.’ God, he’s a jerk.
Like agonizing muscle memory, those words throw me back twenty years, producing the same icky burn as when I was the shy fourteen-year-old girl standing in the school hallway overhearing a group of boys making gagging sounds as they dared each other to kiss me.
There’s no chance I would’ve agreed to this fake dating crap, but Justin didn’t need to jump all over it like I was repulsive.
What is it with Marcus and this Anthony guy wanting me to pose as a girlfriend?
I’ve protected women before, and it’s never once been raised that we might need to fake a relationship.
In my personal life, I love both men and women, date men and women, married a woman, but it’s times like this that I genuinely prefer the company of women over men.
Never once has a woman looked at me with the disgust that Justin’s giving me now.
I spin and march to the door. What a colossal waste of time. When I get back to the office, Marcus better have reassigned me to a WNBA player to make up for this shitastic afternoon.
Outside, the brutal summer sun beats down. Before I reach the Jeep, Anthony runs out of the house, waving. ‘Doc, wait! Please. Can I talk to you for a second?’ He jogs to where I’m standing. ‘I know this doesn’t feel very good and I’m sorry.’
‘I don’t give a shit how it feels,’ I say, flinging my bag onto the seat. ‘My main concern is doing my job to the absolute best of my ability, regardless of my feelings toward the client. But this, right here, won’t work.’
‘Please, wait. Before you go, I need to show you something.’ Before I can protest, his phone is in my face.
I’m highly trained to keep my face in a neutral poker-player position. But as the video plays, my heart rate increases. And if Anthony looks close enough, he’ll probably see my pupils dilate.
‘Oh no,’ I whisper, squinting through the bright sun. ‘This is not good.’