Chapter 6 Lexi
Lexi
The next day, after unfortunately deciding not to quit, my Jeep rolls to a stop in front of Justin’s house. I push my aviator glasses to the top of my head and take a deep breath. Day One. Let’s get this over with. I grab my bag and before I reach the door, it opens.
‘Hey, Doc, good to see you.’ Anthony waves with a sheepish grin.
I don’t like sheepish grins.
‘Ready for your first day?’
Not even for a second. I hated what happened yesterday.
When Katey and I were together, she’d asked me to go to counseling dozens of times.
For so many things, but my quick temper and lack of communication was always at the top of the list. I bottled up the problems in our marriage and threw myself into work instead of coming home, and it showed.
We grew up similar, both of us from a small, farming town.
But Katey’s parents had money, and mine didn’t.
She never knew the shame I carried that I only had new basketball shoes because all the parents of my teammates chipped in.
Or the stigma of being ‘the poor kid’ in school, and the only time kids started being nice to me was when they realized I had talent on the court.
No matter how much Katey pleaded, I never wanted to talk to a therapist. Getting on the mat with Marcus, or anyone else who’ll spar with me, releases my demons.
And yes, I know. I’m thirty-four, not thirteen, but it’s hard to shake the life-long messages etched into my soul that I was never worthy of respect.
But yesterday, I let my irritation that Justin was born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth – plus the fact that he abandoned those families for the fundraiser – get the best of me.
‘Hey. Yep. Ready for the first day. We have a ton of things we need to do,’ I say to Anthony as I cross the hot pavement to the house. ‘Could you let Justin know we should meet within the next ten minutes or so?’
Anthony tugs on the edge of his blond beard. ‘Ah, he’s at lunch with a friend.’
Seriously? I wanted to start this day off on the right foot.
A new slate, so Justin and I could learn to share a space for twelve hours a day.
And he doesn’t even have the decency to be here at the predetermined time?
My lips pull into a straight line. ‘The entire point of hiring me is to accompany him where he goes.’
‘I’m sorry. I was just as shocked as you when I arrived at an empty house.’ He escorts me to the den. ‘I’m sure you’ve noticed, but Justin’s a big guy. I swear that man has no fear. He thinks he can handle himself.’
‘Then why am I needed?’ I snap, then relax my jaw. ‘I understand it’s a lot for someone to adjust their life like this. I really do. But I cannot do my job effectively if he won’t be a partner.’
I swear if this is an indication of how the next several months will play out …
Why didn’t I say no to Marcus? Last week, I should’ve walked away when I had a choice.
Now that I’ve made the commitment, I’ll never leave.
I’m trapped protecting this disrespectful jackass who doesn’t even have the courtesy to follow rule number one on my first damn day.
‘I know. I’ll talk to him.’ He grabs paperwork from the side table. ‘In the meantime, here’s the neighborhood map and outline of the gates you requested.’
Push it away, push it away. Getting heated is doing me no favors.
How is it that in the line of duty, I’m the calmest, coolest and most levelheaded of all the agents?
Nothing frazzles me. Marcus has told me a hundred times I need to learn how to play poker and make myself a millionaire in Vegas because I have no tells.
But with Justin, everything is irritating.
After I speak with Anthony, I spend the next thirty minutes meeting with the gate guards, noting log protocols, required identification for delivery drivers, camera cloud services and the process of putting guests on the approved lists.
When I return to the house, I set my items on the cherry-wood desk in the den as the front door opens. Justin steps inside the house with Anthony and someone else who marches toward me with an outstretched hand.
‘Hey! You must be Doc. I’m Zane, Justin’s personal assistant, and best friend – although he’ll deny the friend part until the day he dies.’
Zane’s warmth radiates off them like a light from the heavens. They shake my hand with a firm yet gentle grip and a brilliantly contagious smile. Their flaming magenta hair, bullring nose piercing and spectacular sleeve tattoo are the exact vibe I need to offset the stuffiness in the room.
‘Nice to meet you.’ I shake their hand before turning to Justin. ‘Hi, Justin.’
‘Doc.’ His voice is as emotionless as his eyes.
Fine. I probably deserve that. Last night in bed, I stewed on my words for hours and woke up feeling crappy. I could probably apologize but admitting failure is on par with a pap smear.
‘Don’t mind him.’ Zane nudges Justin with their elbow. ‘He gets cranky because he’s used to being the prettiest one in the room. And clearly when I’m in the room …’ Zane waves to themselves with a wide smile. ‘… he takes second place.’
A flicker of a smile flashes on Justin’s lips.
‘Are you okay after the glitter bomb episode?’ I ask.
Zane rolls their eyes. ‘Yeah. I was freaked out, but now I’m just annoyed. I vacuumed for an hour, and those little bastards are still scattered everywhere. Trust me, I’m sparkly enough. I don’t need more.’
Okay, I like them already.
‘Let’s chat in here about Justin’s schedule.
’ Anthony points to the living area. I take a seat on a chair as the other three sink into the large U-shaped couch.
‘Zane will be with you for at least half of your outings. I won’t normally be there, but you have my number.
Right now, Justin’s in the beginning stages of his new film.
They’re working on some casting issues, so his schedule for the next few months will be predictable.
Zane can send you the actual calendar but we’re looking at training in the morning and studio in the afternoon. ’
‘Got it.’ I glance at Justin, who’s not looking at me, as he taps his crossed leg with a thumb. ‘Tonight, the night guard Jack will start the midnight to noon shift. He and I will have a quick debrief when we start our shifts—’
‘What if we’re at the studio? Or out?’ Justin asks.
Interrupt much? ‘Then he’ll meet us where we are.’ I match his less than pleasant tone. ‘For today, I need someone to walk me around the grounds so I can check all potential security threats.’
Justin shoots a sharp glance at Zane, who shakes their head. He closes his eyes for a quick second then sighs. ‘Fine. Zane, are you staying?’
‘Nah, I have errands to run.’ That was what they said. But their face screamed hell, no. ‘Doc, I’ll send you an invite to Justin’s calendar. You two have fun!’
Justin scowls at Zane, but hints of a playful smile tug at his lips. I’m hit with the tiniest pinprick of longing. It’s obvious that Zane and Justin have a deep, trusting friendship, and it’s something missing in my life.
Growing up, I chased the need to be part of something.
To belong. I don’t know if it was a product of me being adopted and seeking personal connection, or just who I was.
Sure, I loved my basketball teammates and my family.
I really liked my sophomore year boyfriend, Ben, who was funny and sweet and took me to homecoming.
But until I met Katey, I’d never had ‘my person’.
When our marriage dissolved, not only did I lose my wife but I also lost my best friend.
‘After you.’ Justin opens the cathedral-sized glass patio door.
‘Thank you.’ The patio decking creaks underneath my steps. ‘This will be the only time I’ll walk in front of you. From here on out, I’ll always be behind you so I can monitor everything appropriately.’
The door closes with a thud. ‘Jesus, all business, huh?’
My chest tightens. I’m not apologizing for taking my job seriously. What does he expect? That I’m going to make some awkward small talk that neither of us want to engage in?
Down the stairs to the pool area, the swirling scent of jasmine, rose and faint chlorine hits me.
The infinity pool is beautiful; waterfall features are surrounded by an entertainment deck, stone pizza fireplace and a theater.
Okay, okay, fine. I don’t want to admit it but I will.
Perhaps this isn’t the worst place to be stationed.
I’ve been stationed at governor’s mansions and CEO’s sprawling estates, but I’m rarely at a person’s house with them all day.
The other homes I’ve been to were sterile.
Sometimes they were so overdecorated that it felt like I was in a museum.
Here, it’s huge, obviously, but it captures a certain hominess. I don’t entirely hate it.
When we step onto the lawn, there’s a soft crunch beneath my feet. ‘Is this Astroturf?’
‘Yeah,’ Justin says, stuffing a hand in his pocket. ‘I had them rip out the grass when I moved in.’
Interesting. ‘Why?’
‘Let’s just say it’s my little contribution to California water conservation by eliminating the need to water my yard.’
I lift an eyebrow with the smallest grin. ‘While still maintaining an infinity pool.’
A dimple peeks out on his cheek. ‘I never said I was perfect.’
My shoulders soften as we stroll. I take notes: cut back trees on the northwest corner, exposed windows on the lower level, inactive light sensor.
Each one is an ideal, minimal detection entry point for a perpetrator.
It’s not cool that the home security company hadn’t discovered these earlier and fixed them.
We turn a corner, and I pause for a half-step. In front of us lays a perfectly maintained blue basketball court with fresh nets, sharp throw lines and rows of basketballs lined up on a rack. ‘Wow. Your court’s beautiful.’ What I would give to shoot a few hoops.
‘Thanks. Do you play?’
‘Not really. But I used to play in high school.’
‘What position?’ He leads me to the east side of the property.
‘Guard.’ At five foot seven, I’m lucky I got playing time at all. But my speed is my sweet spot, and Coach moved me to a varsity starter by sophomore year.
A twig crunches under Justin’s feet. ‘I was a forward.’
‘You played?’ I’m surprised this didn’t come up in my research. If it had, I would’ve probably dug into his stats.
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I was better at football, though, but I liked basketball more.’
‘I can understand that. Football takes forever. That sport has so much downtime and build-up for a play that lasts ten seconds,’ I say, looking at anything that could be a security blind spot surrounding the court. ‘Not as bad as baseball though.’
A small chuckle escapes from him. ‘Right? Those games are boring as hell.’
I toss one last look at the court before we turn the corner. ‘I love basketball. The exhilaration, the constant action. It’s like the only time you can breathe is when there’s a foul or a timeout.’
‘Or a technical.’
Oh, the dreaded technical. One time during junior year I got one which was a bullshit foul after I accidentally slammed into a mouthy guard during a tournament. Sure, I might be heading towards my mid-thirties, but that grudge will never die. ‘Did you ever get one?’
‘No, but my high school coach did once.’ He puts his hands in his pockets and slows his pace.
‘He did it on purpose. The refs made horrible, biased calls. Ignored fouls. Let our team get kicked around. The guys were demoralized so Coach yelled at the refs enough to get a technical to show us that he had our back.’
A move like that reminds me of something Marcus would do. ‘That’s pretty cool. Sounds like a good coach.’
After finishing the lap around the house, Justin wipes off sweat beads from his brow. ‘Damn, it’s hot. Let’s head inside. I think Anthony and Zane left paperwork for you.’
After stepping back inside, I grab the paperwork from Justin and move to the den.
For the next few hours, I familiarize myself with the inside of the house, type up my notes and check emails.
At around six, I step into the kitchen to grab the sandwich I brought when a savory melting butter scent wafts to my nose.
‘Any dietary restrictions?’ Justin asks as he flips a dishtowel over his shoulder and adjusts the heat on the stovetop.
My eyebrows scrunch. ‘No, but why?’
‘I’m cooking.’
What? All my years in this business and never once has a client cooked for me. ‘For me? You don’t need to do that.’
He tosses the onions in the pan to sauté and flips them like a pro. ‘I like to cook.’
I can’t fully process this situation. A guy like this cooking for himself and offering to cook for me – a staff member?
‘I’ve been meaning to ask. Where would you like me to station myself?
The goal is that you don’t even know I’m here,’ I say, offering my version of an olive branch.
‘I can be in the sitting room, kitchen, den. I prefer to stay close to the main entrance, but I’ll try to be as invisible as possible. ’
He stops stirring and remains still for several moments. ‘It’s okay. Just do whatever works for you.’
His tone is warm, much warmer than I probably deserve for how I’ve treated him since meeting him. I’m slowly learning that Justin is not all bad, and even though this is good for a working relationship, I don’t love being wrong.
I know, I know – my bullheadedness is not one of my finest traits.
I grab my phone to check if Marcus has emailed back yet about the optimization plan I created, or if the cyber team made progress on tracking down the phantom IP address from the video. I pause mid-scroll to glance at Justin as he stirs, pinches salt over the food and … hums?
Yep, definitely humming.
I slip out to check my blood sugar and take my insulin.
As I head back to the kitchen, chicken, brussels sprouts, shallots and prosciutto aromas swirl from the plates Justin set at the island.
God, it smells good. Pretty sure the last time I had a real, home-cooked meal was last year when I visited my parents.
‘This smells amazing.’ I slide into the chair and inhale the steam. ‘Where did you learn to cook like this?’
He pulls up a chair and digs his fork into the food. ‘Growing up I loved watching cooking shows. My sister and I spent a lot of time alone, so I practiced cooking. It got my mind off things, fed us and seemed to make my parents happy, which was always a struggle.’
Huh. His tone sounds more sad than sarcastic. Maybe there’s more to his story than I know. I take a bite and whoa … I stop myself from moaning as I chew the balsamic-glazed, tender brussels sprout. ‘This is delicious. Seriously. How does it taste so good?’
‘A copious amount of salt.’ He raises his water glass with a grin and taps it against mine. ‘Cheers, Doc. We’ve officially survived six hours of your first day.’