I didn’t care. And I didn’t care if my new boss might be a dick. Being a CPO was all I wanted. This was my shot, and I was taking it.
“I got a job!” I yelled as soon as I hit the apartment.
Mom was exactly where I expected her to be after a long day of cleaning people’s teeth: sitting in her robe in a worn chair in the living room, watching Jeopardy.
“A job? What kind of job?” Her eyes, when she looked over at me, were hooded. She’d already taken her anxiety meds, then. She was supposed to have them before bed, but on bad days she took them early.
I bit back a snarky answer. I’d talked non-stop about Juno and CPO work for the last few years. Mom knew exactly what kind of job I meant. Was she more snowed than usual? Her benzos did that to her sometimes, especially if she took extra.
I perched on the couch across from her. “As a CPO, Mom. My assignment is in Colorado.”
“Colorado? Who needs a bodyguard there?”
“I can’t tell you; it’s confidential.”
She didn’t speak for a long moment. “Will it be dangerous?”
“Nope. Routine.” Probably.
She rubbed her dark, puffy eyes. Her graying hair draped listlessly over her shoulders. “When do you leave?”
“In a few days.”
“When will you be back?”
I almost said as soon as the threat is over but instead, I focused on the positive.
“I’m not sure. But Mom, this job—Xene said it would pay well. I can pay back the loan I took out to pay for my training.” A loan my mother had reluctantly co-signed for. “A few more assignments and maybe I can get you a new car or even a down payment on a house near the mountains.” The Spring mountain range to the west of the city was the good side of town. We’d never lived anywhere near them.
She frowned like she’d sucked on sour candy. “You should have gone to college.”
I cracked my knuckles and closed my eyes, fighting to keep my anger and disappointment in check. Mom had been pissed when I’d told her my plan to go to Juno instead of enrolling in community college. Her dreams of me in a safe, steady career like accounting flew out the door, along with the heavy paperback SAT practice test book she’d been hounding me to study for months. It had just missed me as I left to sleep in the car.
I picked up the People magazine with Veena on the cover and stood. I had tons of prep work to do, starting with learning as much as I could about my client.
“Okay, I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” I couldn’t grind the sharpness out of my voice, and sure enough, she deflated like an old party balloon.
“I’m sorry, Nicole. I don’t want to fight. Please be careful. I couldn’t . . . I wouldn’t want to . . . ” She blinked back tears, and her chin trembled. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
My eyes flew to the dusty pictures on the bookshelf in the corner, partially hidden by a tragic plant. My parents and me as a little girl, before Dad left us. Gram, Mom, and me, before Gram died. A reminder of everything my mother had lost on one convenient shelf.
The anger leaked from my body. I knelt beside her and hugged her, but it felt like embracing a ghost. Guilt shot through me for thinking that, so I squeezed her harder.
“I know, Mom. You won’t have to.”
I really hoped I was right.
By Monday afternoon, I was in Colorado, closing in on the town of Vail.
Mom and I had said a tense goodbye that morning. I couldn’t tell if she was mad, sad, or what. I only knew I was ready to get out of our suffocating apartment and away from her long silences and distracted stares.
For two hours I climbed into the sky, driven in a car arranged by SSA. I waited to catch a glimpse of the town and resort I’d read so much about the last few days. And then there it was, snow-covered peaks looming over hotels, restaurants, shops, and homes. Multiple chairlifts rose up the mountainside, and little figures slid down the ribbons of sparkling white.
I smoothed my puffy jacket, a last-minute second-hand store find, and tried to calm down. My suitcase was in the trunk, stuffed with all the cold weather gear I could dig out of my closet, and a messenger bag at my feet held a laptop, FedExed overnight from Brown, loaded with information on my principal, Vail, and the school. My brain bloated with threat assessments, maps, and route information.
Ignoring the nausea I’d felt off and on the last few days, I ran over Veena’s classes again. What would she be like, and how would she do with a stranger—me—all up in her cozy private school life? I would share her room, her schedule, and probably her toothpaste, with only a few hours to myself while she trained. I questioned for the hundredth time how I would pull this scam off.
The only thing I didn’t wonder about was Vail Mountain Academy. I’d seen enough on their slick website.
Top-notch college preparatory courses? Check.
Expert ski and snowboard coaching? Check.
Gorgeous mountain setting? Check.
Fancy digs? Check.
Spoiled rotten teens? Check, check, check.
Ugh. I hadn’t exactly loved high school the first time around, and here I was going back.
The driver took me to the hotel where Brown and the team were staying, the Eagle’s Nest Inn, and I made my way upstairs. As instructed, I knocked at suite 212, and a guy opened the door about an inch, eyeing me through the gap. He looked to be late twenties with blond hair cut close to the scalp and a nose that had cozied up
