“Seriously?”
“I’ll have Maddox’s guys do it tomorrow when they come to put in the alarm system. We’ll need your cleaning lady’s key back. We’ll have a limited number of new ones made, high security keys. They’re a little harder to make copies of.”
“My friends don’t make copies of my house keys,” I protested.
“Cleaning lady gets one,” he said, almost to himself. “You get one. I get one.”
I sighed.
“And I’ll need her info, so I can run a check if needed.”
“She’s a forty-five-year-old mom who sings while she does my dishes.”
“That’s great,” he said absently as he made notes. “I’m sure she does a great job.”
Fuck me. What was happening to my life?
I felt like I was being punished. And yet, according to him, I’d done nothing wrong.
I was afraid of this.
It was all becoming clear, as I sat here listening to Ronan and my body physically revolted against every word, like I’d just bitten into something rotten. This was the reason I didn’t want to tell anyone about Blair. About all the phone calls and the messages, about him showing up at my shows even though I didn’t want him there anymore.
When he’d started creeping on me, I hadn’t feared him. I didn’t realize there was a reason to fear him until he tried to break into my house.
But I feared my way of life having to change.
It was one of the reasons I’d been drawn to Flynn, yet never told anyone what was going on. I could see that now.
I wanted to feel safe before I consciously knew I was in danger.
Now, Blair probably couldn’t even get near me, yet it was happening anyway; everything was changing.
“I have people in and out of my house all the time,” I told Ronan, firmly. He was still jotting notes.
“Not anymore.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I’m not kidding. Until I have a chance to assess things further and understand what we’re dealing with, we need to limit the people that have access to you and your home.”
“So, you go where I go, around the clock. And yet I can’t see my friends.”
“You can see your friends. We’re just going to keep it more manageable for now.”
“Managing my social life. Sounds fun. And why aren’t you managing Ashley’s social life?”
“I’ll be keeping in touch with his bodyguard.”
“And how will you have time to do that, while you’re watching me around the clock?”
“Honestly,” he said, looking at me, “I don’t sleep much. And my partner, Naveen, will be overseeing things from the office as well. While I’m focused on you.”
He held my gaze, unwavering, while I probably gave him a very frustrated look.
“Look, Summer.” He laid his pen down. “You’re my client. I work for you. If you’d prefer someone else as your bodyguard, we can make other arrangements.” He didn’t bat an eye when he said that.
But I was still thinking about that other thing he’d said…
While I’m focused on you.
Why did I like that so much?
Fuck no, I didn’t want another bodyguard. I didn’t want any bodyguard. But if I had to have one…
“Brody wouldn’t have put you here if he didn’t think you were the best man for the job,” I said. “So you must be the best man for the job.” Then I added, with a healthy dose of attitude, “As long as you don’t bore me, we’ll be fine.”
“Excuse me?” he said, like he hadn’t heard that right, when he knew he had.
“Bore me. Yes, you heard that right. I don’t do bored.”
“Then I guess I’ll try not to bore you,” he muttered.
“Good.”
He flipped his notepad closed. “Saving your life interesting enough for you?”
Yup. The man could serve the sass right back, in his dry, ultra-serious way.
Unfortunately, I kinda liked it.
“I guess it’ll have to do for now. And you haven’t saved my life yet.”
“Saved you from a car accident.” He held my gaze. “Do I get points for that?”
“You’re right. That was decidedly non-boring.”
He tore his eyes away. He got up and tucked his notepad and pen in his pocket. “I’ll help clean up.”
“You will not.” I swept his dirty dishes away and started cleaning up. “I can fill my own dishwasher. What do I owe you for the meal?”
“It’s on me,” he said, and when I gave him a look, he added, “I insist.”
“Fine. I mean… thank you.”
He nodded and started to turn away.
“Would you like a drink?” I blurted.
“No, thank you,” he said. “I don’t drink with clients.” Then he disappeared up the hall to the guest room.
Well, now. There was a rule I definitely didn’t love.
I cleaned up, and as I did, I tried to process everything he’d said.
He seemed totally sincere in wanting to keep me safe. He seemed devoted to his work. And I did believe my friends who’d told me he was the best in the business.
I really tried to accept that all these changes were being implemented in my best interest. To keep me safe and secure.
But I still didn’t like any of it.
Many hours later, when I emerged from my music studio totally spent and ready to fall into bed, I found the house quiet and dark.
It was the middle of the night, and only a single light had been left on. I followed the slight glow; the light was on over the stove.
Ronan was sleeping on my living room couch, with no blanket. His laptop was open but in sleep mode, right next to him. Looked like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of working.
What the hell.
I’d told him he could sleep in the guest room.
The instant I walked into the room, he was already waking up. He sat up, alert.
“Oops,” I said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I totally did.
“What kind of bodyguard would I be if I slept through you banging around the room?” he muttered.
Jesus. He just woke up, and already
