by Saba Kapur
“I’m showing Jack to his room, just like you asked. Because apparently we don’t have housekeepers to do that.” I batted my long eyelashes innocently. “Right, Jack?”
“Uh, yeah?” Jack said uncertainly. He walked toward me hesitantly, as if he was scared I might rip his head off any second.
“Be nice,” Dad whispered, loud enough so that only I could hear it.
I just smiled. “Let’s go.”
I led my new bodyguard down the hallway in silence, past the two recreational rooms, the cinema room and two more lounge rooms. We hadn’t even covered a quarter of downstairs yet, but I didn’t bother giving him the full tour. He wasn’t going to stay for long, so there was no point wasting my time.
Only now that the rage was wearing off a little, the nerves were starting to kick back in. Jack was standing so close to me, the sleeve of his shirt would occasionally graze my arm and tiny electric currents would shoot through my whole body. There was no way that was healthy. As we walked past a mirror, I eyed my outfit as subtly as I could. Tight skinny jeans and a Zara crop top. Nothing too fancy, but at least Dad had sprung the news on me when I had returned from shopping and not when I was just lounging around the house in my PJs.
“Oh, you have a dog,” Jack said finally, more to himself than to me. He was obviously making a sad attempt at small talk.
My Yorkshire Terrier, who was sitting by the stairs, stopped playing a tug-of-war game with his chew toy and gave Jack a half-assed yelp. He trotted over to us to inspect the attractive stranger standing beside me. Jack bent down and scooped him up, holding him close to his chest.
“She’s adorable,” Jack said. “What’s her name?”
“His,” I said haughtily, as if by confusing my pet’s gender he had somehow insulted my entire ancestral line. “His name is Famous.”
“Oh,” Jack said. “Interesting.”
Oh no. What if he didn’t think that was interesting and he was just saying that? Like when someone goes “oh your child is an absolute angel” when everyone in the world can tell that little kid is the spawn of Satan. Not that I could do anything to fix the whole situation. It’s not like I had consulted him before naming my dog. Plus, if Famous was a good enough name for Audrey Hepburn’s pet, then it was good enough for Jack Anderson.
Jack was going on about how he had always wanted a puppy but someone in his family, I couldn’t remember whom, was allergic to dogs. I was barely paying attention. I was focusing so hard on breathing normally; I was scared the veins on my forehead were bulging out. He looked like Mr. January in a Hot Guys with Puppies calendar, and my respiratory system was suffering as a result. I allowed myself one minute more of shameless lusting before roughly yanking Famous from Jack’s grip.
“He doesn’t like strangers.”
I placed Famous down on the floor, and he looked up at me. If dogs could give judgemental looks, he had definitely given me one before turning back to his chew toy.
“Your house is incredible,” Jack said, eyeing the chandelier hanging above the staircase. He seemed unfazed by my abruptness. “What is it, like, five stories?”
“Six,” I said curtly, leading him toward the elevator. The less I talked, the less chance I had of making a fool of myself.
“You have an elevator in your house?” Jack said, his eyes bright with excitement. It was weird to see him so surprised about something so mundane.
I pushed the “up” button on the elevator, which was positioned next to stairs, and the doors opened immediately. Great. Dad didn’t want me “crossing lines” but he had sent me to show Jack a bedroom. Nice thinking.
“Wait,” I said, my gaze dropping to Jack’s empty hands. “You don’t have any bags with you.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s okay. I don’t wear a lot when I’m sleeping,” he replied matter-of-factly.
I opened my mouth to say something but no words formed. I just stood there gaping at him. He didn’t look like he was kidding. I surely hoped he wasn’t.
“Right,” I said, nodding. “Of course. I read once that sleeping naked is actually good for your health and like, your brain network formations. I read that. In a magazine.”
The elevator doors closed again, as did my window for making Jack fall in love with my quick wit and flirtation skills. What the hell were network formations? It was like my mind had temporarily shut down, due to the image of Jack naked burnt into my temporal lobe. If brain network formations existed, I was missing a lot of them.
“I was kidding. The bags are in the car,” Jack said, clearly trying to suppress a smile. “Just . . . breaking the ice.”
“Right. Yeah, me too. Obviously.”
Somewhere in the heavens above, someone was slow clapping at my stupidity. The proverbial ice wasn’t being broken; it was being repeatedly smashed against my head. I clasped my eyes shut for a few seconds, hoping my brain could delete the humiliation from my mind. No luck. We stood there staring at each other for a few seconds in silence, as I struggled to find my way out of the hole I kept digging for myself. Luckily it was Jack who broke the silence first.
“I know this is tough,” Jack said, suddenly becoming more serious. “It’s natural to want to turn to friends in such a confusing time. But it really is important to keep this all quiet. At least until we figure out how serious this threat is.”
I watched him without saying a word, arms crossed against my chest protectively. Maybe that would be my way of putting up a battle. Complete silence. I figured I’d be so silent everyone would be scared that I had forgotten how to speak.
Jack looked at me awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers. “So, final year of high school? That’s exciting, right?”
“Listen, Jack,” I began, forcing the attitude back into my tone. “It’s nothing personal, but if we’re going to do this, then we’re going to do this my way.”
The silence plan was a long shot anyway.
“Your way?” Jack repeated, giving me an amused look. He looked completely relaxed now, albeit slightly confused.
I nodded and said, “I don’t know what my dad’s told you, but there’s no threat.”
“We were just told to keep you all safe, ‘round the clock.”
“Right, well that’s not necessary,” I told him. “As you can see, I’m fine. I’m not dead. There’s no one trying to kill me. I’m all good, so you can go back to New York now.”
I smiled at him warmly, hoping that I had done enough to send him packing.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said, looking at me as though he couldn’t actually believe he was having this conversation. “But I’m not sure it works like that.”
My smile dropped. “Look, if this is going to work you have to stay out of my way, okay?”
“I’m not here to get in anyone’s wa—”
“Well, good.”
I was putting so much effort into being haughty; I was coming across as borderline constipated. In reality I was scared I was already in love, and I had known the guy for all but ten minutes. My ego was only just winning against my hormones, and I didn’t know how much longer that would last. I just had to concentrate on what I was saying so I wouldn’t accidently ask him to father my children, and everything would be fine.
Jack opened his mouth, ready to say something, but then closed it. We watched each other in silence, waiting for one of us to make the first move.
“Your room,” I said, when I had finally had enough of the awkwardness. “Is two levels up. Choose any bedroom, whatever. I don’t care. I’m on the floor just above us now. If you need anything, don’t come to me. We have the help for that.”
I pushed the button on the elevator for what I hoped would be the last time for that encounter, taking a few steps away from it.
“Got it,” Jack said. He was smiling again, which was weird because I was coming across as a real psycho.
&n
bsp; “It was nice to meet you, Jack.” I tried to make it sound like a goodbye; a heads up that he would be leaving as fast as he came in.
“Likewise,” he replied. Only he really looked like he meant it too.
Jack’s eyes were practically burning holes through my eye sockets, but I couldn’t yank my gaze away. My bodyguard wasn’t meant to be a love interest in the romantic comedy I had invented in my mind! Not that I needed a new love interest in my life; I had a boyfriend. And we got along just fine. Sure, it wasn’t a fireworks relationship, but, you know, I got by in life.
“I think this’ll be fun,” Jack said, just as I was turning to leave. I stopped dead in my tracks, only turning my head back to face his grin.
Um. Could he not look at me like that please? I was already having trouble coping. I tried not to return the smile, but I think I failed in that department because my lips kind of twitched up anyway, purely out of nerves. The elevator doors began to move toward each other, but Jack caught one with his hand, and they parted once more. We stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of us blinking. I took a deep breath and turned on my heel, only exhaling when my back was turned.
“Yeah, well,” I said. “We’ll have to see about that.”
Chapter Two
Day two of hating Jack began as a complete disaster. I woke up the next morning feeling like death, and looking even worse. In movies, everyone is a morning person. In real life, we’re lucky if we look remotely human getting out of bed. Trust me, I have tried multiple times to wake up looking like Beyoncé. I failed, big time.
I almost broke my alarm clock with the force I used to turn it off, roughly brushed my teeth and jumped straight into the shower. Brendan was no doubt going to be outside the house soon, honking his horn with impatience. He hated it when I was late. For my sixteenth birthday, dad had gifted me a glossy black, convertible Beetle, a car I had wanted since I was five. I use it all the time for shopping and partying purposes, but my house is on Brendan’s way to school. For the past seven months or so, since we had started dating, he’d been taking me to school everyday.
Tripping over my towel, I ran out of the ensuite and straight into my walk-in closet, commonly known as heaven. It’s about the size of half my bedroom, smells like happiness and is completely stocked with an endless list of designer clothes and a fluffy pink beanbag that I never use. There are many people in Hollywood that complain about having to dress up. I am not one of those people. Sure, it can be a pain at times, but trust me, life tends to run a whole lot smoother when you’re wearing a pair of Louboutins. Take it from someone who’s grown up around human Barbie dolls. If you want to survive at my school, you’ve got to bring something to the table. Even your off days have to be red-carpet worthy.
“Gia! Are you ready?” I heard Dad call from the foot of the stairs.
“Almost!” I yelled back as his footsteps grew distant.
Confidence levels were running low, and time to contemplate outfits was even lower. I grabbed my American Apparel strapless jumpsuit off the hanger and threw it on without a second thought, slipping my feet into my heeled Jeffery Campbell boots. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to reinspect yesterday’s purchases; I had been too busy hoping the whole bodyguard thing would end quickly and painlessly. I had sort of hoped that I’d get to look like a complete knockout, blowing Jack away with my fabulous looks and sense of style. Unfortunately, that didn’t look like it was going to happen. If only I had Mom’s personal makeup artist here to help me.
I grimaced at the reflection of my long, brown hair in the huge mirror, pouting at how much of a mess it was. Straightening it would take too long but curling it would take even longer. I also secretly believed that my hair was often a good indication of my stress levels. If that theory had any strength, I was going to be Disney’s new Lion King character before noon. I gave a frustrated sigh as I ran my fingers through it, hoping desperately that it would magically transform into a GHD advertisement. When it didn’t, I gave up and tied it into a ponytail.
Thanks to Jack and his beautiful face, I would now have to look top notch all the freaking time. This was a major inconvenience, because it meant I wasn’t allowed any of those off days I mentioned before. Heidi Klum could wear a garbage bag and still work it like a nine-to-five job. I, on the other hand, needed to put in a little extra effort. Clearly, crippling insecurity wasn’t something people tended to advertise with the perfect Hollywood life. What a shocker.
“GIA! YOUR BOYFRIEND’S HERE,” Dad called out, sounding annoyed.
I did some mental pep talking and reassured myself that I looked fabulous, given my small time frame. Grabbing my science book and studded Balmain bag off my bed, I ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I jogged down the hallway, into the kitchen and straight into Jack, hitting against his arm. I gave a small groan as my hip dug into the tip of the kitchen island.
“Ow!
“Morning!” Jack greeted me cheerfully, still rooted in the same spot. He eyed me up and down, a smile appearing on his face.
I had chosen my outfit in a minute flat, my eyeliner wings were uneven, I had a little too much blush on, and I had a seventy percent chance of looking like a drag queen. If that smile was to say he liked what he saw, he was hopefully going to see a whole lot better.
“You’re still here?” I asked, a little out of breath from running.
“Gia!” Dad said sharply, coming up from behind me. I gave a small jump, startled at his sudden appearance. “Jack is here to help you, remember? Be nice.”
“Oh, that’s okay Mr. Winters,” Jack said, with a humble look. “I can understand that this must be hard on Gia. It’s all a process.”
I glared at him so hard, I thought my eyes were going pop out of my head. What a kiss-ass.
“I’m going to go show Kenny how our security system works,” Dad said, his tone suggesting a warning to me. “Breakfast is on the counter, and your boyfriend is still waiting outside. Tell him not to wake the whole of L.A. up with his car horn.”
I silently watched Dad walk out of the kitchen before turning back to Jack the moment we were alone. He was watching me, leaning against the fridge and sipping coffee out of my favorite mug. It’s pink and has a little Yorkshire terrier on it, just like Famous. Who, evidently, Jack thought was interesting, whatever that means.
“I just figured you’d have gotten the hint by now,” I said, shrugging casually. “It’s not too late to book a flight back to New York.”
“I don’t scare easy,” Jack replied, placing the mug down on the counter gently.
“Oh, really?”
Jack leaned in a little closer, as if he was about to reveal some huge government secret to me. My body stiffened, and I reflexively took a step back.
“No offense,” Jack said softly, and I raised an expectant eyebrow. “But I’ve dealt with a lot worse than a hostile teenager.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. Hostile? Where did he get off calling me hostile? Okay, so maybe I was being hostile. And maybe that was kind of the point. But still! He didn’t get to stand in my kitchen, drink out of my mug and call me hostile!
“Well . . .” I began, struggling to think of a decent comeback. “Good for you.”
Brendan had definitely caused some damage to his car horn from the amount of times he had pressed it. I checked the time on my phone. It was 8.07 am. That was really late for Brendan. That was beyond early for me.
“Where is everyone, anyway?” I asked Jack, referring to the lack of housekeepers, who were usually bustling around the kitchen.
“Somewhere around, I guess.”
“Where’s my brother?” I pulled a plate of pancakes toward me. I took a mouthful, barely chewed and swallowed it whole.
“He left about five minutes ago. Chris drove him to school.”
“And you didn’t go with them?
”
“And give up an opportunity to spend quality time with you?” Jack asked in mock surprise, as if I had just suggested we start eating our feet. “Never!”
I watched Jack silently, fiercely chewing on my pancakes as Brendan continued to honk his horn outside. He was dressed in jeans again, and he was wearing a plain black t-shirt that was a little tight so you could tell he had perfectly toned abs. His hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed, but not in a dirty and scruffy way. More in an I always look this sexy kind of way. Oh yeah, L.A. City Elite was going to love Jack.
“I have to go,” I said, leaving the food half eaten and swiping my bag and book off the counter.
I yelled my goodbyes out to Dad and Anya—even though I had no clue where she was—and kissed Famous on my way to the front door. Noticing Jack was right behind me, I turned to face him abruptly, slamming the front door shut.
“Don’t you have your own car?” I asked hopefully, clutching the science book to my chest.
“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I have to ride with you and your piece of meat, or whatever your dad called him.”
My cheeks flushed. “Brendan is NOT a piece of beef!” I cried.
“That’s the one.”
Clearly my dad had shared his personal views on my boyfriend with Jack that morning. I could only dare to imagine what else he had discussed with him while I was battling my bad hair day upstairs. Brendan, who was still furiously honking his horn, seemed to be having a fight with his stereo, and losing. He kept pressing all the buttons and yelling out “Damn you, track fifteen!”
“If we’re going to do this then I’m going to set out some ground rules,” I said firmly, and Jack raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. It was like I was a skydiving instructor and we were standing on the edge of a plane. “Rule number one, no touching me. Like, ever. Not even by accident. Rule number two, no flirting.”
“Well that’s not fair!” Jack protested. “If I’m not allowed to touch you then I should be allowed to flirt. It’s all I’ve got!”
