Chapter Nine
Not sure how I feel about having strangers traipsing in the house, or if the house will allow it, I set up a little interview space on the front porch.
By the time I’m done, I’m starving. I head in and grab a pastry and a fresh mug of coffee.
I take a bite and groan at the cinnamon taste just as the house chirps once more.
I head out to the porch in anticipation of my first interview, only to find a couple of delivery trucks heading my way.
I frown, place my coffee down on the small table I dragged out here, before dialing Jen.
She doesn’t answer, but a text chimes.
Yes, the trucks are supposed to be there. I took liberties. Deal with it.
I shake my head, finish my food, and wash it down with a mouthful of coffee. “I apologize in advance, but I think we’re about to get an influx of people wanting to come in and out,” I warn the house, so it doesn’t get spooked. I bite my lip when I swear I hear it sigh.
The trucks pull up next to each other before everyone starts jumping out. One guy walks my way, holding a clipboard. “You Calliope Hart?”
“I feel like I’m going to regret this, but yes.”
His lips twitch. “Sign here, please.”
I take the pen from him, sign where he points, and hand it back to him. “What can I do to help?”
“Without sounding like a dick?”
I chuckle. “You want me to stay out of your way, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am. We have our system down pat.”
“Alright. I have a little area set up on the porch while I conduct some interviews. Will I be out of your way enough there?”
“Yeah, that works. We try to be as quick and as quiet as we can.”
I wave him off. “As I didn’t even know about any of this until two minutes ago, I’m just going to let you do your thing. If you need me, just come find me. And help yourself to coffee. I have half a pot, but feel free to make more.”
“That’s mighty kind of you, ma’am. Thank you.”
I offer him a smile and snag my coffee on the way to the swing. I sit with one foot tucked up under me, using the other to swing myself slowly.
I blink when I see a large fridge-freezer with all the bells and whistles being wheeled inside minutes before the old one is carried out.
The sound of another vehicle approaching catches my attention.
This one is a newer model truck that looks like it gets polished regularly.
I wince as it blows up dust, wondering how irritated that might make the driver.
The delivery guys ignore the truck and the guy as he steps out.
He looks around at the property with a look of disdain—one that already has my hackles up.
I don’t care if this place is in disrepair.
All it needs is a little TLC. But I want to give this guy a chance to redeem himself.
I’m as guilty of letting first impressions cloud my judgment as he is, but it’s more difficult than I thought it would be.
He approaches the guy with the clipboard. I can’t hear what he says, but the clipboard guy shakes his head and points at me. The newcomer slips his shades from his face and hooks them in the front of his T-shirt. His eyes move over me from bottom to top in a slow perusal that makes my skin crawl.
He stalks forward, his walk full of false swagger and confidence as he jogs up the steps to me. “Calliope Hart? I can call you Calliope, right? I’m Ryan Michaels.”
He holds out his hand to me, so I stand and shake it before placing my empty mug down.
I don’t offer him a drink, but I do indicate for him to sit in one of the chairs facing the swing.
Instead, he sits at the end of the swing and man spreads his legs before leaning back, his arm resting along the back.
I gape at this man’s audacity just as a voice speaks behind me. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
I turn to a man behind me in a black Stetson and think it’s Shepard for a second until he tips his head back a little, and I get a look at his face.
He’s every bit as captivating as Shepard is, but in every opposite way possible.
Whereas Shepard is by anyone’s standards handsome in that swoon-worthy, white knight kind of way, this man is dark and tormented, and every one of my dark little fantasies brought to life.
Tall, fit, and tanned in that way you only get when you work outside, this guy towers over my five-foot-five frame by at least a foot.
He’s wearing black jeans and a faded gray T-shirt that showcases an intricate series of tattoos etched into his arms and neck.
He has a sharp jawline covered in day-old stubble, full lips, and a slightly crooked nose.
His face would be remarkably ordinary if it weren’t for two things: the black eyepatch covering his left eye and the startling violet color of the one staring down at me.
“Ma’am?”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t had enough caffeine yet to function properly. What did you need?” I’m impressed that I sound normal, even though on the inside, my brain is humming the theme to Jaws for some reason.
“I asked if it was okay for me to take this up to your room. It’s labeled bedroom, but I didn’t want to impose without permission.
” His voice is deep and gravely, like he drank a glass of whiskey and chewed the glass down after it.
I have the strangest urge to curl up next to him and have him read one of my books to me.
“I’ll take it.” Ryan jumps up and moves to take the box.
I step between them, my teeth gritted. “Thank you, Mr. Michaels, but I think Mr. …” My voice trails off as I wait for Stetson to introduce himself.
“Hawkin. Riggs Hawkin.”
“Riggs. Nice to meet you. As I was saying, Mr. Michaels, Riggs has it covered. Why don’t we get our interview started?” I throw over my shoulder before nodding to Riggs to carry on.
Riggs offers me a polite nod before heading inside. I turn back to Ryan. “So—”
“You shouldn’t let people like that inside when you don’t know who they are.”
I cross my arms over my chest, his eyes drifting down to my tits at the move. Where Shepard made my skin tingle, this man makes my skin itch. “I don’t know you either, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with going into my room. At least Riggs asked. You assumed.”
“Your lawyer has screened me. Besides, we both know this is just a formality. I’m good at what I do, Calliope. Pretty little thing like you needs someone like me at their back. It’s the only way people like that asshole won’t take advantage.”
I’m reeling from too much information, but the thing that sticks with me the most is the caustic tone with which he spoke of Riggs. “People like that?”
“Criminals. You didn’t see his tattoos, did you? I recognize a couple of them as gang affiliations.”
“What did Jenny tell you about me?”
“That you need protection and some other things. That’s what I do. I can install cameras and—”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“Exactly what I said. No. This won’t work. Thanks for coming.”
He splutters with indignation. “You can’t just say no.”
“Sure, I can. I just did. And fun fact, no is a full sentence just like fuck off,” I tell him, finally losing my cool. I sense someone step up behind me, but I don’t take my eyes off Ryan.
“You don’t get to speak to me like that. I came here as a favor to a friend anyway.”
“I’ll speak to you any damn way I please. You’re on my property, and you’re being rude.”
He opens his mouth to say something else when Riggs’s voice sounds from behind me. “The lady asked you to leave. I suggest you do so before I throw you out.”
Ryan surges forward, but Riggs slides me behind him in an instant, which has Ryan backing up.
“Fuck this,” he scoffs before practically running to his truck.
We both watch him drive away before Riggs turns to me. “You okay?”
I nod, my mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah, thanks.”
“That guy was an asshole.”
My lips twitch. “He said the same about you.”
“Figures. I’ll let you get back to it anyway. I put the box on your bed.”
“Thanks again.” I watch him head back to the truck, oddly mesmerized by the man.
“Is he bothering you?”
I whirl around, my heart in my throat.
Clipboard guy backs up, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I thought you heard me. I asked if he was bothering you.”
I frown, thinking he’s a bit late to ask me that, when I realize he’s talking about Riggs. “You mean Riggs?”
“That’s the big fella’s name? Then yeah.”
“Wait, you don’t know him?”
“You got a pretty big haul here, miss, and I only have so many guys I could spare at the last minute. Had a friend of mine send over a couple of people to help out.”
“Oh, okay, makes sense. And no, he wasn’t bothering me. The opposite, in fact.”
“Okay, good. We’ve finished emptying the one truck. We’ll be moving on to the second as soon as we’ve put some things together.”
Put things together?
I refrain from asking as another car approaches.
“No problem. I’ll leave you to it.”
He nods and heads down to Riggs as the vehicle heading this way comes into focus.
“Is that a Prius?” I mutter. You don’t see many of them around here. Or at least you didn’t. I guess a lot can change in fifteen years.
I watch as a man unfolds himself from the front seat.
When I say unfolds, I mean it. Riggs is tall, but this guy is even taller, reminding me of a basketball player.
Only he’s so painfully thin I’m worried a stiff breeze might blow him over.
It isn’t until he moves closer that I realize how young he is.
If he’s a day over twenty-one, I’d be shocked.
Still, I won’t write him off. This guy could be a ninja for all I know.
He looks around and spots me, approaching somewhat cautiously with a nervous smile. “Hi, I’m David. Are you Miss Hart?”
“I am. Please call me Calliope. You here about the guard position?” I ask hesitantly.
His eyes widen a fraction before he shakes his head. “Oh no. I’m sorry. Behind a computer screen, I can kick ass, but in real life, I’m more of a lover than a fighter. I also tend to faint at the sight of blood.”
I chuckle, liking this kid regardless.
“I’m here to talk to you about security via cameras, alarms, panic buttons, that kind of thing.
I’ll be brutally honest with you, Miss Hart.
I’m new to this business, so I have next to no testimonials I can give you beyond friends and family, but I’m really good at what I do.
I just need someone to take a chance on me. ”
“Take a seat and tell me a little more about yourself.”
He relaxes and moves up the steps to sit in one of the chairs. He eases his bag from his shoulder, then pulls out his laptop and places it on his lap.
“I was attending MIT until my mom got sick and I had to drop out to look after my younger siblings. So I decided to try and turn what I’m good at into a job that pays enough to support us.”
“I’m sorry about your mom,” I interrupt him. “Is she doing any better?” I ask tentatively.
His face falls as he shakes his head. “She died at the end of last year. She fought hard, but the cancer was relentless.”
“Jesus. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Twenty—nineteen, when she died. I have two sisters, eight and six, to look after, so going back to MIT wasn’t even an option. Plus, the medical expenses were a lot.” He flushes.
I reach over and give his arm a quick squeeze. “Please don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s amazing. Your mother must have been so proud that she raised such a wonderful son.”
His eyes take on a watery sheen, but he takes a deep breath and holds it together. Damn, I seriously like this kid. “Tell me what you think this place needs.”
He nods and opens his laptop. He hits a few keys and spins it around.
“I’d alarm all the windows, add cameras to each exit and entry point.
I could add them to the rooms, including your bedroom and the bathrooms, but that would be entirely up to you.
Only you would have access to the footage unless you wanted to have me monitor them externally, which I could do for an additional fee.
I could also set up pressure or motion sensors in and around your property, and rig something similar to the acreage itself, again with cameras so you can check on things yourself.
Security panels can be as basic or as high-tech as you can afford, from basic PIN information to using biometrics and retinal scanners—”
“You’re hired.”
“Wait, what? Are you serious?”
“Can you do all the things you say you can?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then yes, I’m serious, but…”
He freezes, hope fleeing from his face.
“There’s something you need to know about me first.”
As Ryan seemed oblivious to my record, David likely is too. Oh boy. Here goes nothing. “I’m an ex-con.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I tuck my hair behind my ear and hammer the point home. “I was convicted of killing my father.”