“Thank you,” I say and he just nods his head in acknowledgment. “You can expense it.” It’s the first time I see a major emotion on his face, and it looks like frustration.
“Okay,” is all he says. Besides the yogurt monologue gave earlier, ‘okay’ seems like one of his catchphrases.
“I have a room set up for you in the house. We won’t be staying there much. But anything you need to feel comfortable, let me know. I think after the tour I want to head to New York. Would that work for you?”
“Yes,” he says, looking out the window.
“You said you were from Virginia, right? That’s not far. Do you have a girlfriend or family there?”
“A sister,” he says. Jesus, it’s like pulling teeth with this guy. I can’t tell if he is completely disinterested in getting to know me or if he’s just socially inept. We will be around each other almost all the time. We should at least get along to some degree. Maybe he is just shy, and I won’t push him right now. Really, it only matters if he is competent at his job and if he can be trustworthy. He at least doesn’t seem like the type to go gabbing to the first gossip magazine that approaches him.
“Right, well. Did Garth send you the details about the security for my Portland show?”
“Yes, it’s covered,” he says.
“Okay.” I take a note from his catalog of short sentences. I stuff my face with froyo to hide my embarrassment and to do something with my mouth instead of rambling on and on about something he clearly doesn’t want to talk about.
I finish the yummy dessert and throw the bowl in the trash can. “We’re here, Cami,” Franklin says. Smith opens the door and holds his arm for me as we get out. Franklin takes Smith’s luggage out of the trunk and we head to the secure entrance to my private elevator.
“Who has access to the elevator?” he asks.
“Me, Garth, Franklin, and my mom. She still lives in Georgia, though. Well, and now you,” I say, handing him a keycard to the elevator.
“The building has security cameras and staff?”
“Yes, 24/7.”
“Have you had any incidents?”
“Just one. I had a relentless fan who started a relationship with someone in the building to gain access to me. They waited in the parking garage, hoping to meet me. They didn’t get into my apartment or anything, but it was still unsettling.”
He grunts as the elevator doors close and I swipe the card again to take us to the penthouse. I appraise him slightly while we stand next to each other in silence. Looking at his chest, I bet I barely reach his nipples. The thought makes me giggle, and he looks down at me, causing me to look away and cough out my awkwardness.
It’s the first time I’m really close to him in a small space, and I’m able to smell his scent. He smells like whiskey and sandalwood. It’s musky and so masculine. It makes sense with his presence that his scent would match his larger-than-life stature. I want to smack myself in the face for enjoying it so much, but I’m an Omega, and Alpha scents are my catnip. I know he won’t be able to scent me with my low-grade suppressants and the amount of effort I take to deodorize myself.
The elevator door opens, and we walk into the open floor plan apartment. This building is small, it’s only ten levels up, but I don’t need a lot of space. Honestly, I would be fine not living here anymore. Really, I just need a place for all of my shit, and somewhere comfortable to stay while I’m in LA. I haven’t been truly comfortable since I left my mom’s house five years ago. When I think about seeing her in a few weeks, I sigh and smile. I made sure the tour ended in Atlanta, so we could spend some time together.
Smith follows me into the apartment. His distance is professional. I don’t feel crowded or uncomfortable with him around. Though, it’s still a little awkward having him here since we just met. I motion my arm over to the kitchen. “Kitchen is pretty standard. If there is anything you want to order, you can just use the screen on the fridge and it will get added to the cart. I don’t cook often, so I order out a lot.”
We walk over to the living room. “Watch whatever you want. The remote is a little complicated, but I have all the services.” He nods his head in acknowledgement but doesn’t ask any questions. He follows me down the hallway. “There is a half bath here,” I say, opening the door and then closing it to turn to the other side of the hallway. “This will be your room while we’re here, but like I said, we won’t be here much.” I assumed this is where the tour is over.
“The rest?” he asks, looking at me in confusion.
“Oh, well.” He follows me to my door, and I crack it open. “This is my room,” I say and close the door. His massive hand stops the door from shutting, and he opens it fully and my cheeks heat in embarrassment. “It’s kinda a mess.”
He grunts and looks around the room. Clothes cover the hardwood floor, and my bed is a pile of soft blankets and comforters. Magazines are scattered next to my bed, along with about fifteen empty water bottles and candy wrappers. I squeak as I see my massive pink dildo on top of my nightstand. Quickly, I rush over and shove it into the drawer.
I clear my throat and don’t look at his face. “So, yeah, this is my room. Can we leave?” I push the nightstand drawer shut and I wish I could crawl under a rock right about now.
“Are there any fire escapes or other ways of access?”
“Just the stairs off the living room and the elevator. The door to the stairs is always locked from the inside.”
“All right. If you want to leave, you will let me know?” he asks. His tone is all business.
“Of course, I hired you. I’m not anti-bodyguard.”
He strokes his beard and nods in agreement. “Can we talk more about general security tonight?”
