I level a stern look at her. “‘Minor incident’? Cora, you were mugged at gunpoint last week.”
She waves a dismissive hand, but I catch the flicker of fear in her eyes. “I’m fine, aren’t I? It’s not like I need an army to go grocery shopping.”
“No, just a bodyguard with a particular set of skills,” I quip, unable to help myself.
Cora rolls her eyes. “But this,” she gestures, “is overkill.”
“Look,” I say, softening my tone, “I know this seemsextreme, but your father’s worried sick. After what happened...”
Cora’s shoulders slump. “Dad’s always worried. It’s his default state.”
“Can you blame him? His only daughter gets mugged, and then he finds out her home security system is about as effective as a ‘Keep Out’ sign?”
She glares, but I can see her resolve wavering. “Low blow, Rambo.”
I shrug. “I’m not here to win a popularity contest, Cora. I’m here to keep you safe.”
“And let me guess, all this fancy tech is absolutely necessary?” she asks, gesturing to the workers installing various devices.
“Unless you want me camping out in your living room twenty-four/seven,” I reply with a raised eyebrow.
“Great. Do I get a fancy tin foil hat to go with my new prison— I mean, home?”
“This isn't a joke, Miss Valeur.”
“Could've fooled me, Mr. Chuckles,” she mumbles.
“They’ll be done soon,” I say, trying to keep my tone even. “This new system will have three-hundred-sixty-degree imaging straight to your phone, plus a panic button.”
Cora rolls her eyes. “I don’t need any of this high-tech nonsense. Have them take it all down and leave. I managed just fine before you came along.”
“I’m in charge of your security,” I growl, my frustration mounting. “Part of my job is identifying and closing gaps in your defenses. You live alone in this massive house, Cora. It’s about as safe as a piggy bank made of glass. You’re here by yourself at night; anyone could break in.”Just like I did.
Her eyes widen, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She’s thinking about it, too, I’m sure.
“About last night…” She shakes her head, her blush deepening.
“You were drunk,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. “You asked me to stay, so I sat in the chair. Nothing happened. It’s okay, I know it was the alcohol talking. Though I have to say, your karaoke rendition of ‘I Will Survive’ was...memorable.”
Her head snaps up, eyes wide with horror. “I did not!”
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. “Relax, I’m kidding. But the look on your face was priceless.”
“So, you do have a sense of humor.” She narrows her eyes, but I catch a hint of the smile she’s trying to suppress. “Thanks for the hangover cure and for staying to watch over me. You didn’t have to.”
“Here.” I hold out a small remote, eager to change the subject before I say something I’ll regret.
She eyes it suspiciously, like I’m offering her a live grenade. “What’s that? Some kind of mini taser?”
“Panic button,” I explain, pressing it. My phone chimes, and I show her the screen. “You press this, I get an instant alert with your location. Think of it as your personal Bat-Signal, except instead of Batman, you get...well, me.”
She takes the remote. “And what if I accidentally press it while reaching for the TV remote?”
“Then I’ll come bursting in, ready to save you from the terrifying movie menu,” I deadpan. “There’s also an app for your phone,” I add, taking her device and installing the security system app. “But the remote is smaller, easier to keep on you in case you can’t reach your phone. You know, in case you’rebeing chased by a burglar and don’t have time to update your Instagram story about it.”
Cora rolls her eyes again, but this time, there’s definitely amusement lurking beneath her exasperation. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I prefer thorough.”
