Dammit. I’d forgotten Ihad a shareholder meeting this afternoon, though thankfully I’d prepared apresentation weeks ago. It wasn’t long, but it had to be me doing it.Justifying all the money we were spending saving lives because it cut into theprofits of some rich asshole’s bloated retirement fund.
I loved shareholdermeetings, obviously.
“Thank you,” I said ascheerfully as I could manage, and that did at least earn me a sympathetic look.
“I’ll get out of your way,”Gray said, finishing the last of his donut and licking sugar off his fingers.
I wanted to tell him tostay. Hold that thought. I’d be back in an hour, an hour and a half, tops.
But the moment was gone, andI was pretty sure he wasn’t about to wait for it to come back.
“Thank you for the coffee,”I said pathetically. “And for checking in.”
“Anytime,” Gray responded ashe headed for the door, throwing me a warm smile that my heart did a backflipto catch.
I watched him go, and wishedI’dasked him to stay.
FOURTEEN
GRAY
SACRAMENTO OF AN evening in the winterwas cool and a little on the sleepy side, and it’d always been one of myfavorite times of year. If you stood still and closed your eyes for longenough, the hum of the city would sing to you.
At least, I’d always thoughtit did.
Every now and again since Igot back, I was hit by how much I’d missed this place. How much it felt likehome.
That saying about home beingwhere the heart is seemed more and more true as I got older. My heart was here,and it was nice to have my life right back with it.
“Enjoy your night,” my Uberdriver said with a wink as I paid her, and I grinned in response.
I’d told her everything inthe car on the way here—not who my clientwas, but that I wasa bodyguard escorting someone to some kind of fancy cocktail party. She’d been a littlesurprised by the address I wanted to head to based on where I lived, so we’dgotten to talking.
It was nice. People didn’t really ask meabout my job and they got bored when they found out I wasn’t even armed. Butshe’d been interested, and I’d given her a card in case she ever needed us orwanted to try her hand at personal security.
Hell, having a woman on theteam would have been great. It was something we were missing, and I waspositive it’deventually come up.
Once she’d driven off, Iturned my attention to the evening ahead and stepped inside.
The doorman—Rudy—greeted mewith a nod and didn’t even bother to stop me—we’d chatted as I left last time aboutsecurity arrangements, and come to a kind of understanding as professionals inroughly the same line of work.
Rudy wasn’t going to bephysically stopping anyone from getting into the building, but he kept an eyeout and he seemed to be serious about his job. I liked him.
I’d been to plenty of thesethings—people mostly wanted security at events, so I was used to followingalong, although I suspected this was a little lower-key than normal, and I alsosuspected I wasn’t going to slip away and hang out with the kitchen staff oncewe were inside.
I didn’t evenwantto. Miles wasway more interesting to me than stories about the unreasonable hosts and howridiculous rich people were.
Miles wasn’t ridiculous. I’dcome to respect—evenlike—most of my previous clients for how hardthey worked and how human they were, but the ones who’d been born into it tendedto be a little…
Difficult was a good word.
But Miles wasn’t like that. Hewas humble, and sweet, and he’d taken me to see a teenage girl who really justneeded a friend right after his own house had been broken into.
That part stuck with me. He’d been scared,and I knew that, but it hadn’t stopped him thinking about other people. Idoubted he had many in his life, but I assumed he treated them well.
By the time I was knockingon the door to his apartment, I was actually starting to lookforwardtospending the evening with him.
In a totally professionalway, of course.
