I huff, “Well I’m sure the substantial raise you just received covers a bit of extra sighing by your boss, eh?”
He glares at me in the rear view mirror. I’ve never truly been his boss. The man’s only ten years older than me but much wiser. Plus, he’s been my guard since I was a teenager. In truth, he feels a bit more like my boss than the other way round.
“You just seem off is all,” he studies me.
I wave a dismissive hand. “You’re just grumpy that you have to play driver today.”
“No,” he draws out the word. “Your twitching have anything to do with your new lass?” I make the mistake of making eye contact with him in the reflection. “Who’d have thought a shotgun wedding wouldn’t work out.”
“Spare me your lectures, it’s working out fine.”
“I’m sure, what with you across the country and her back at her desk job,” he mutters at me.
He has a man secretly guarding her in New Jersey. She’s a billionaire’s wife now. Better safe than sorry. Still, it irks me that he’s studying Janie’s movements.
Which is odd. Why do I care if a man watches her? That’s what I pay them for. What did I have for breakfast? Not enough protein maybe.
“Shewantedto get back to her job,” I find myself getting defensive.
“Uh huh, and didn’t think her husband would, I dunno, stay in town with her?”
I snipe, “Really? You a love expert now, Nigel?”
“No, unfortunately for me, I’m a damned Ben Clark Expert.”
“Piss off.”
“You piss off. I know you, and you’re acting strange and something about this whole wedding business is weird.” He waits, but I just watch out the window. “Out with it so we can stop whatever is making you so…twitchy.”
“You’re wrong,” I start, “Everything’s grand. She and I—” I pause and he watches me. “Oh, alright. You’re sworn to secrecy anyway, I don’t need to remind you. She and I are contractual. Dad pinned me in a corner about getting married by the end of this year.”
“Ah,” he says, not shocked. He knows my world well. After a minute or so of internal processing he looks at me again. “Why her?”
I shrug, “We’re friends. Or…friends of friends. Emerson’s wife knows her well so we’ve been ‘round each other quite often. She’s genuine, unlike everyone we know in this world.” I gesture toward the jets surrounding us as we pull into the small, private airport. “And she needed the money.”
“She didn’t look particularly friendly in Las Vegas,” he says slowly.
I snort, “You caught that, did you? She’s not my biggest fan. Kind of up my ass about everything all day long, actually. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone so squarelyunimpressed.But. Like I said, she needs the money.”
“That’s shite, mate,” he says, his Irish accent coming out.
My head snaps from the hangars outside to his furrowed brow in the mirror. “Pardon?”
“You like her.”
“Of course I like her, I just bloody married her. As I said, she’s funny and smart and—”
“No, I mean youlikeher. Enough to start sighing like an angsty teenager back there.”
“Quit exaggerating, it’s only charming when I do it,” he starts to argue but I talk over him, which he hates. “She needed the money, Nigel. I needed someone I could trust who wasn’t a total bore or a vindictive wench. Or at risk of falling in love with me. She fits the criteria. Full stop.”
“Okay,” he says, grumpy. Now I’m grumpy too. Hell if I know why. Probably because my opinionated bodyguard is not saying what he’s really thinking.
I press him, “Okay, what?”
“Okay, nothing. You say that’s it, then that’s it. You just seem...” He puts the car in park outside our hangar. “Off. That’s all.”
I sigh. “Well, if you must know, I…I think I buggered up already.”
