Chapter 16
Livia
I hop out of my new black BMW X5 M when I arrive at my office, feeling like I’m walking on a cloud. My life is a dream. I’m elated. Every day is beautiful. The birds are chirping. The sun is bright. When I step inside the building, a man is standing in a suit with his arms crossed at the wrist.
“Good morning,” I say.
He doesn’t respond.
I walk over to Soda’s desk and say quietly, “Um, who’s that?”
She shrugs. “Girl, I don’t know. He said he was security.”
“Security? Security for what?”
Soda holds a shrug.
I walk back over to the man and say, “Hi. Uh…hi. Are you security?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I didn’t request security at my building. Are you perhaps at the wrong place?”
“Are you Livia Augustus?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m at the right place.”
“Who sent you here, because it wasn’t me?”
“Your husband, ma’am. Khenji Halifax.”
I shake my head. Why didn’t I figure this out on my own? This has Khenji’s name written all over it, but I think this is a little overboard to hire security at my office.
I walk away from the guy and go straight to my office, closing the door and dialing Khenji’s number at the same time.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Khenji, why is there an armed security guard standing in my office, looking like he’s ready to start a small war?”
He grins. “He’s from my security team. Your place of business is his new assignment.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Khenji, I cannot have this man standing in my building intimidating my patients. These are people, mostly women—young women—who have enough issues when they come in here. I need them to feel safe, not threatened or thinking that there’s trouble here.”
“I understand that, Livia, but those women aren’t my priority. You are, and you always will be.”
I’m heated, but at the same time, I don’t even see how I can be mad at him for wanting to protect me.
“Livia?”
“Yes?”
“Tell me you understand?”
“What do I need protection from?”
“I don’t know. Anyone. Everyone. I’m a billionaire which means, you’re a billionaire. I don’t want anyone getting any bright ideas to snatch you to get to me. There are some crazy people out here.”
“Okay, I understand your logic, but why couldn’t we have discussed this first?”
“I just acted on instinct. I need to make sure you’re protected.”
I sit at my desk and massage my temples. “He’s literally standing inside the front entrance. Why can’t he be outside in his car or something? Standing here at the door like that is not a good look for my business. I—”
I sigh.
Soda peeps in the office and advises me that my first client of the day is here.
I tell Khenji, “I have to go.”
He says, “I know this is frustrating for you—”
“It is, but perhaps we can continue this discussion later.”
“As you wish.”
“I love you, Khenji.”
“I love you, Livia.”
I place my phone in my purse and hold my head, trying to get in the right frame of mind for my client. I feel a headache coming on.
When I get off work, I stop by my apartment to pick up some clothes and other items I’ll need for the trip, but the nostalgia I feel walking through these doors catches me by surprise. I’ve only been at Khenji’s place for a few days and I miss my personal space so much. I would come home, kick off my shoes, sit on my little comfy sofa and eat noodles. I took pleasure in watering my beautiful array of plants and keeping my space tidy and relaxing. I’d light candles, turn on my oil diffuser and listen to the trickling sounds of the free-standing indoor water fountain. I haven’t felt this level of comfortability at Khenji’s house, which is strange because I feel safe and secure in his arms, but his house is another thing.
I think it may be the bodyguard situation that has me feeling this way – has me thinking about how simple my life used to be. I took much delight in the little joys of it all. But I’m still myself. Still humble. It’s my goal to always remain that way.
With Kenji, though, I’m fearful of becoming something that I’m not. I don’t desire to be followed around by bodyguards and being overly concerned with security. There wasn’t anything wrong with my car that would warrant a new one, and I’m even leery about flying to Paris to get married. What’s wrong with getting married here in the States somewhere? Everything he does is a grand gesture, and I’m just a simple girl who fell in love with him.
Tears come to my eyes, but I keep them from falling. Perhaps I’m feeling this way because our love happened so fast. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the man for me. I’m not ready for all of these changes.
I walk to my bedroom and lie down in the center of it and cry. I don’t even know why I’m crying. I’m just—
Overwhelmed.
And there’s nothing I can do about it.