Two and a half years ago
Bianca Saunders strode toward me with anger flashing in her eyes. I froze in my seat, quickly forgetting the memo I was typing. She should have looked demure in her dress suit, gold flowers shining out happily from a field of silver, but instead, she just looked like an angry bee. I hoped I wasn't the one about to be stung.
"Jack needs a new bodyguard." She threw a newspaper at my chest as she stomped across my office and into the executive lounge, heading toward the coffee pot. She tottered on her golden heels, shaking in her rage and splashing coffee across the counter. Some of the dark liquid spilled on her jacket, and she cursed under her breath as she grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at the silver and gold embroidery.
I fumbled with the newspaper and groaned slightly when I saw the headline. Billionaire's Bodyguard Assaults Photographer blazed out in bold letters across the heading of the page. In a blurry black and white photo, Jack looked on in horror as his bodyguard's massive hand reached for the photographer. Every word in the article made me cringe; the lawsuit from the photographer was going to be huge.
"Jack was caught leaving his girlfriend's, or who I assume is his girlfriend, apartment. Instead of having a car ready, or having Jack go out the back, this buffoon has him walk right out into the photographers and then throws their cameras on the ground. He then punched one of them for asking a question." Bianca pinched her nose with her thumb and forefinger, her brows tightening. "The photographer is already suing. We don't need this kind of publicity. Especially not as we start the process for Jack to take over the company."
The article ended with a question about Daniel's failing health and the speed at which his son was taking over the company. Jack wasn't supposed to take control of the company for another three years, but it looked like he was going to have to start much earlier. I didn't want to think about the fact that the results from Daniel's biopsy were coming in today. I carefully folded the newspaper back up and tipped it back toward Mrs. Saunders. She waved her hand, dismissing it, so I set it on the desk. The older woman sipped on her coffee, the caffeine seeming to calm her, at least temporarily.
"The current one is just a giant walking slab of meat. He doesn't have a brain in his head, and this latest incident just pushes the point home. This is the third photographer that is suing us this year. At this rate, they'll just start lining up at the front door for us to hand them money." Mrs. Saunders sighed. "At least that would save us the lawyer fees."
"Do you have any preference as to whom we hire? I can ask around the agencies..." I started, already thinking of whom I could call to get a bodyguard with a brain. Bianca's anger disappeared as she realized I was willing to get a new bodyguard. She had been expecting a fight, and now that there wasn't one, she relaxed. I knew Jack liked his current guard, but he needed someone that had a brain to go along with the muscle, and we both knew it.
"No need. I have someone who comes highly recommended." Bianca smiled at her efficiency. I smiled, but inwardly I winced. Bianca, while a shrewd negotiator and intrepid businesswoman, was not known for her hiring skills. She was the one who had hired the current bodyguard, against my recommendation.
"What kind of experience does he have?" I waited, hoping he at least had some.
"He's military trained. War hero with a bronze star. He was working in Hollywood for some actress, but he's available now. He comes with a recommendation."
"That sounds promising," I said slowly. I narrowed my eyes and looked at her. "Why is he available now?"
Bianca blushed slightly and fidgeted with her cup. "Well, he got into some trouble and was fired. But he was fired for protecting his client too well, not for using his giant meat claws. He really does come highly recommended."
"Recommended by whom?"
"The girl's manager, Don Renalds. He hated getting rid of him, but the girl insisted. From everything Don said, this guy will be perfect to keep Jack safe as he takes over the company."
I sighed and chewed on the inside of my lip. I didn't like putting Jack's safety in the hands of a stranger, especially one who was recently fired. The Saunders were the closest thing I had left to family, and I would be damned to see Jack under-protected.
"What did he do to get fired? Details, please."
Bianca gave me a confident smile. "The girl has a substance abuse problem, and he was keeping her dealers away."
"I can see why she would fire him and her manager want to keep him." I sighed and pushed my hands together, trying to think. I had met Don a couple of times, and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.
"I know you don't like it when I jump into Jack's personal matters," Bianca said, setting the cup of coffee down behind her. She put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. "This man is available now. Hire him. If he doesn't work out, it will give us enough time to find a replacement, but at least it will be better than what Jack has now. Please, Rachel?"
"Fine. I'll give him an interview. If I don't like him, I'm not hiring, though." I gave her a serious look. Mrs. Saunders picked up her coffee and beamed at me. She was back to being a peaceful gold and silver meadow.
"I wouldn't expect anything else. I think you'll end up loving him." She smiled, pulled a card out of a pocket, and handed it to me.
I read the small embossed name on the card, and my heart stopped. Dean Sherman.
"Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost," Mrs. Saunders asked, looking concerned. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
"No, I'm fine. I just remembered something is all. I'll set up an interview right away." I hoped she couldn't hear the tremor in my voice. I hadn't seen him in over twenty years, but just reading his name brought back the memories of him as though it was just yesterday.
Mrs. Saunders nodded and began walking out the door. I stared at the card in my hand for a full five minutes before working up the courage to call the number and make an appointment.
June 6th, 1990 I woke up nestled on Dean's arm, using it as a pillow. We were still in more or less the same spot that we had had sex in a few hours before. He was snoring softly, which was really cute. I looked at my watch and found that it was still really early. My head was swimming a little bit and I really had to go to the bathroom. I didn't want to wake Dean, so I tried to sneak out of the bed. However, my hair must have tickled his arm, because his arm shot out and grabbed mine. He took me by surprise, and I squealed a little bit. He laughed. "Where do you think you're going? We're supposed to go surfing," he said, obviously still half asleep. He blinked, then let go of my arm. His eyes focused, and he looked me up and down. I blushed. The sun's light was much more illuminating than the moon's, and I realized that he was drinking in his first clear sight of my naked body. This man was a stranger, and suddenly I felt extremely self conscious. I pulled the sheet from the bed up
June 6th, 1990 "Okay, now this time I'm going to just give you a little push on the back of the surfboard. Center yourself and get ready." We were out in the ocean. Dean was taking the time to show me how to surf and it was not going well. As he gave my surfboard a little tap, I found myself staying up on the surfboard for about a half second before crashing into the water again. Oh well, I thought. At least my top is still on. I came to the surface, sputtering once again. Dean grabbed my hand, steadying me before going after the surfboard. He grabbed it and brought it back to me. "Quick, get back on the board, I can see a great swell coming," he said, obviously excited. "You take it." I unlatched the surfboard from my ankle and handed him the strap. Dean had seemed excited about surfing, yet he hadn't even gotten on the board yet. "Please, just ride this wave. Then you can watch me surf for the rest of the afternoon," he said, pushing the strap away. I laughed. "Okay." I laid
Two and a half years ago I alternated between staring at the heavy wooden doors and glaring at my watch. A notepad with a new pen sat waiting at my fingertips, but I wasn't even tempted to doodle. Dean Sherman had my complete and utter attention, and he wasn't even in the room yet. What would I say to him? Hi, Dean. I sent you a letter every day for a month, but I never got one from you. That sounded too harsh. Especially since I knew he had never gotten a single one of my letters. I had sent them out religiously once I moved to New York to work for the Saunders family, but after a month of no replies, the postman had handed me a stack of unopened letters. Something in the address Dean had given me had made them undeliverable. You could have just told me you weren't interested. Instead I waited for you. I asked my landlord to forward all my mail, but I never got anything. Not even a postcard! No, that wasn't fair either. It was very possible that my landlord just was lazy and threw
June 7th, 1990 The sky was just beginning to glow with the promise of morning when I felt Dean slip out of bed. He padded quietly on the floor, picking up his clothes and dressing. I peeked one eye open to watch him wriggle into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, admiring the view. It was worth it to wake up a little to see his body move. His blue eyes caught me peeking and he came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Go back to sleep," he whispered, leaning over to kiss my forehead. His lips were warm and soft, so soft that I never wanted them to leave. "Where are you going?" Sleep made my voice creak like an old door. Dean brushed the hair off my forehead, smiling down at me. He looked like an angel in the morning light. "Boy things today. Remember?" Dean's blue eyes twinkled with excitement. I nodded slowly, remembering that he had said something about going out with Matt and Tony today. "Have fun. When will you be back?" I asked, sitting up slightly. "Late afternoon." He kissed
June 7th, 1990The boardwalk creaked under our feet as we made our way along the sandy planks. Small local shops had their doors open to let in the warm ocean air and passing customers. The smell of hotdogs and popcorn drifted by, and music played softly from the inside the shops."I'm starving. You want something to eat? My treat." Dean let go of my hand, eyeing the food stand."Sure. I'll take a hotdog. Thanks!" I flashed him a big grin as he hurried over to the line. I was about to follow him, but something caught my eye.On the edge of the boardwalk, facing out toward the ocean, a street vendor was selling his paintings. They were amazing. The seascapes caught my attention, particularly one of a storm about to roll in. A woman stood silhouetted in the foreground, tiny against the powerful thunderclouds and swelling waves. I could feel the surge of the water, the light fading quickly into the clouds as the storm threatened to overcome her. Despite the storm, she stood strong and re
June 8th, 1990 When I woke up in bed again with Dean, it was the first time that I didn't feel like things were perfect. This was the last day that I would spend with Dean, and I knew that none of us girls were ready to say goodbye. If there was ever a time when I felt at home, it was here in Florida, with my two best friends and the three guys that made us happier than we had ever been. Still, when he rolled over and smiled at me, I couldn't help but grin back. "Hey," I said. "Hey, Beautiful," he said. He looked completely at peace. I turned on my side to face him. The sheet was down around my waist, and my breasts were exposed in front of him, but it seemed like it had been forever ago that I had any modesty around him. "What do you have planned for today?" He shrugged. "I was hoping I could hang out with my girl," he said with a grin. I beamed. My girl. The words sounded perfect coming out of his mouth. "Well, yeah, but what are you going to do with your girl?" I asked, putt
June 8, 1990- Evening At some point when it started to get dark, Tony and Kim sneaked away and started a small fire down on the beach while the rest of us were on the volleyball court. Tony put some hamburgers on the grill that his aunt kept in the garage, and by the time we were done with the last volleyball game, he had paper plates full of food for us to eat. We opened a bag of potato chips. Tony removed the grill from the fire and began to throw more and more fuel into it, quickly turning it into a bonfire. We cracked open some beers and all began to eat. None of us spoke much, busy eating and simply enjoying the good company. I sat on the sand and watched the fire as the sun finished setting, leaning my head against Dean's shoulder as we munched on potato chips. The waves crashed against the beach below, and soon a cool wind began to blow in from the ocean. Dean graciously slipped my tank top off his neck and let me have it back. It was just the right amount of clothing to be c
Two Years Ago I sat in my office, typing on my laptop. In a few short hours, I would be free for the weekend. Jack and his secretary, Brandi, were on their way to the Caribbean, and I was going to have a few days off. It felt wonderful to know I was going to have a weekend for myself. Things at work had me running overtime. Jack was about to transition to CEO of DS Oil and Gas, now that Daniel's failing health was making it harder for him to work. We had hoped to delay the transition another year, but Daniel's cancer was growing more aggressively than expected. The doctors were only giving him maybe another year. I shook my head, ridding myself of the negative thoughts. I was going to have a weekend to myself. I had reservations at a charming little bed and breakfast in upstate New York, complete with a spa and relaxation package. It was going to be a great weekend. My phone buzzed on the desk, and I picked it up. I frowned as soon as I saw it was Jack. He was supposed to be on a p
Emma smiles at me. She fixes my veil one last time, making sure it is still on straight, then smooths the hair curling gently around my shoulders. She says something about weddings, and I smile automatically. My mind isn't on her. It's on the person waiting for me at the end of the stone pathway. Dean is waiting for me. She fusses with Jack's tie, making sure that it, too, is on straight. He gives her a warm smile and shoos her out of the house. I can hear her heels clicking on the steps as she hurries to the garden to tell them we're ready to begin. I feel like I'm going to float away I'm so happy. I wonder how it is possible for any one person to brim with so much joy to the point of overflowing, yet here I am, barely able to contain myself. Dean is waiting for me. Jack takes my hand, placing it in the crook of his arm as we start to walk out the main doors. I remember my flowers at the last moment and I pull myself free to grab them. I grasp them tightly as I give my hand back t
Present Day The afternoon sun transformed the world into a kaleidoscope of orange and red as it filtered through the autumn leaves. Dean sat in the garden on a wrought iron bench, his eyes closed as he looked toward the sun. He reminded me of a cat, sitting there soaking up the last rays of warmth before winter. I stood for a moment under the rustling leaves, just admiring him. He was so handsome. His dark hair ruffled in the fall breeze, the wind mussing it like a lover's caress. His jaw was strong and smooth, his back tall and straight. Even after all this time, he still made my heart pound in my chest like a nervous school girl's. He was everything I could ever ask for; everything I could ever want. The leaves crackled under my feet as I followed the stone pathway to the bench. Dean opened one eye just enough for a sliver of blue to peek out, but then he closed it. His face remained impassive. I smiled at him, even though he couldn't see it. I felt like I might vibrate out of my
Present Day The Saunders clan sat quietly in the parlor. Emma and Jack were on an old-fashioned love seat, Emma's head resting on Jack's shoulder. Robbie stood beside them, staring out the window, his hands behind his back. Several employees and close staff huddled in a group by the corner, solemn and quiet like a silent flock of black birds. I stood next to Bianca, who sat stiffly in a blue wing-backed chair. Her hair was perfect, her makeup unsmudged, but I knew inside she was screaming with loss. A lawyer fumbled with long sheets of paper at the head of the room, preparing to read the will. Daniel had only been dead for less than a day, but it was per his wishes that the will be read now. I swallowed my tears down. Now that I was here, Daniel's death was real again. For a few blessed moments with Dean, my heart forgot to hurt. Now it just ached as though it were making up for the missed time. Bianca's brown eyes stared blankly at the room. I knew she didn't see the people there,
Present Day The rest of the day was a blur. All I felt was pain, the gray shadows of memory taunting me with Daniel's life. He had been my friend, my father, and my employer. Despite months of preparation, it had come too soon. His absence left a hole in my heart that could never be filled. The doctor entered the room, checking Daniel's limp wrist for a pulse. Bianca clung to him, her eyes shut as she willed him to still be alive. The doctor carefully worked around her, performing the necessary checks before quietly leaving the room. He put his hand on Jack's shoulder as he left, murmuring the words, "I'm sorry," he said, and Jack nodded, but I don't think he actually heard him. His eyes were glued to the bedroom, tears silently running down his face. Upon the doctor's apology, Robbie stood. He stared at those of us in the doorway for a moment before taking off down the stairs. I heard the front door slam, but I let him go. A minute later, I could hear the roar of an engine as he d
Present Day I pulled my hair up into a bun as Dean parked the car in front of the Saunders' mansion. Even from here I could tell something was wrong. The feeling of a string about to be cut vibrated out of the house. Dark shadows cast up onto the porch, the autumn morning sun still cold. I shivered and pulled a sweater up around my shoulders. I stepped out of the car, making sure my shirt hung straight. I always carried a change of clothes in my car. In my line of work, you never knew when you would be stuck at the office overnight. Or sleeping at your boyfriend's place for the first time. Emma hurried out to greet us. She ran barefoot across the wet grass, the hem on her pants growing darker with every step. She hugged her arms around her, keeping herself warm as well as from falling apart. Tear stains already streaked her face. She didn't even bat an eyelash at the fact that we had arrived together, instead grabbing my hand and hurrying me toward the house. "What happened, Emma?
Present Day I woke up the next morning to find that Dean was already out of bed. The room seemed empty without him. I glanced at the painting on the nightstand, the woman still defiant against the storm after all these years. It made me smile that he had kept it. The floor was cold to my bare feet as I stumbled into the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet seat was a clean pair of sweats and a plain gray t-shirt. I slid the comfortable clothing on, rolling the waist band to keep the pants up. The shirt smelled like Dean, and I breathed it in, enjoying the scent. I giggled as I realized there was no way he was going to get this t-shirt back. Well, maybe, when it lost that wonderful smell and needed refreshing. The rest of the apartment was quiet, but I found a pot of coffee ready with a note in Dean's messy handwriting. Good morning Beautiful, I didn't want to wake you, but I'm getting breakfast. Creamer's in the fridge. I love you. I folded the note and stuck it in my pocket. Even t
Present Day I had intended to go to a rustic Italian restaurant just a few miles from the Saunders' mansion. I had intended to walk in, sit down, eat lasagna and tiramisu, have a glass of wine, and then head back and take a long hot shower. That was what I had intended. Instead, I was standing in front of Dean's apartment building. I could see a light coming from his corner unit, the yellow window shining cheerfully into the dark night. The wind blew across the yard, rattling the remaining leaves on the trees and making the fallen ones skitter across the sidewalk. The moon hung low, orange and full against the night sky. I was about to go back to my car, to drive to that little restaurant and actually do what I was supposed to do, but the memory of that kiss pulled at me. Now that we had kissed, even just once, I wanted more. Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand was knocking at his door. I looked down at the brave appendage in shock, wondering what the hell I was thinking.
Present Day Robbie passed me as I walked down the hallway toward Daniel's room. His eyes were still rimmed with red, and his lips were pursed together as he walked the ornate carpet, his mind lost in thought. I don't think he even saw me as he paced back and forth down the long hallway. I wasn't sure he had even been in to see his father since we had brought him home, but at least he was in the house. I knocked softly before entering the large room that had become Daniel's infirmary. A large hospital bed took up the center of the room, an oxygen tank and an IV pole tucked carefully beside them. Bianca sat in a large easy chair in the corner, her feet tucked up under her as she typed on her laptop. I could hear soft classical music, playing softly in the background. Knowing Daniel, it was probably Mozart. Daniel sat propped up in the bed, pillows and blankets tucked tightly around him. His pale face was so gaunt that his eyes seemed to sink into his paper thin skin. I remembered the
Present Day I parked carefully in front of the police station, making sure I was evenly between the two lines. Just because Dean said he knew the sheriff, I didn't want to push my luck. I just wanted to get Robbie out with as little fanfare as possible and get him home to see his father. The door chimed softly as I walked in. It was a small building, barely more than a room and an office, with two barred cells along the back wall. Sitting in one of them was a very dejected-looking Robbie. He glanced up as I came in, and then put his head back in his hands to stare at the floor. Dean was leaning up against the chest-high wooden monstrosity of a desk, talking with a man in a crisp tan uniform. "How were things at the hospital?" Dean asked, and all three men looked up to hear my answer. "Samantha's doing fine. She's agreed not to press charges," I stated. I heard a low sigh of relief come from the cell. "May I talk with Robbie?" "Yes, ma'am, you may. Dean and I here just have a few