Exactly what I thought. If he were immune to psychic talents, he might never be able to experience anything directly, barring interaction with one of the gods themselves. But that also made him the perfect bodyguard.
I nodded. “I get it. And I get that you may think I’m nuts. Is that going to be a problem?”
He gave me the courtesy of considering my question before answering it. “I don’t believe so. If it is, we can discuss dissolving the arrangement.”
“Fair enough.” I leaned forward and stuck out my hand. He executed another perfect handshake. “You’re hired. Will you go with me wherever I am?” I said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I furrowed my brows. “What’s with the ma’am?”
“As of this moment, I’m your bodyguard.”
I glowered. I liked the bodyguard idea, but I didn’t know how much I liked being called “ma’am.” Especially from someone who was so damned attractive.
“I need to make a visit to a psychiatric hospital,” I said, “and then I really want to go home and take a hot bath.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why do you still visit Dad at that place? It’s so creepy,” Ethan said.
“You should come with me.” I dodged his question.
Ethan sighed.
“He is your father.”
“Yeah, but he checked out a long time ago.”
“That doesn’t change the fact he’s your dad.”
“It’s just weird. I never know if he’s going to act like a kid, fly into a rage, or be nearly catatonic.”
“I know it’s been hard on you and Sean.” I touched his arm.
“Even harder on you,” Ethan said.
“I made out just fine. You boys . . .” I trailed off, my throat closing against the words.
“It’s not your fault.” He hugged me, and I patted his back like I did when he was a baby.
Chapter Twenty-six
The facility smelled of cleaning fluid and lemons. Daniel’s shoes squeaked on the floor as we approached the front desk. A woman wearing too much blue eye shadow and false eyelashes sat behind the counter. I pulled the three-ring binder toward me. It was full of pages with spaces for visitors to write down their names, who they were there to visit, the time in and the time out. I filled out two lines, one for me and the other for Daniel. I pushed the binder toward the woman on the counter and waited. A few moments passed before she looked up at me.
“How may I help you?”
“We’re here to see Jacob Schaffer,” I said and pushed the binder toward her again.
She turned to her computer and typed on her keyboard, then leaned back in her seat and frowned.
“Is there a problem?”
“The computer says there’s a note on the file. One moment.”
A few more moments passed. The receptionist picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers and then said, “Visitors for Mr. Schaffer.” She hung up the phone and looked at me. “Dr. Peterson would like a few words before your visit.”
“Is Jacob okay?”
“I’m sure he’s fine. If you’d have a seat, please, Dr. Peterson will be out momentarily.” She gestured to the slick plastic chairs across the hall.
“Ms. Byrne, thank you for seeing me.” Dr. Peterson approached us from his office down the hallway. I shook his hand and introduced him to Daniel.
Dr. Peterson’s hair and beard had more gray in it than the last time I’d seen him, but he hadn’t gained any weight. Despite the fact he was one of the thinnest men I had ever met, his ruddy complexion told me he was in excellent health.
He showed us into his office. I took one of the chairs and Daniel stood against the far wall.
“Won’t you take a seat, Mr. Geist?” Dr. Peterson said.
“I prefer to stand.”
“He’s my bodyguard,” I said.
“Oh, your . . . um . . . okay. Should you be visiting the facility if you need a bodyguard?”
Crap. He was right. I probably shouldn’t be.
“I don’t have any reason to believe Jacob would be in any danger. But, you’re right; I should have considered it more carefully. I’ll postpone my visit until later.” I stood to leave.
“One moment, please. There’s been a recent incident.”
I sat back down and crossed my legs. “Is Jacob okay?”
“Yes. He’s doing fine. He had another violent episode, but no one was injured.”
“I’m glad to hear no one was hurt.” I had been through this too many times to offer up any new suggestions.
“As you are aware, we don’t typically care for violent individuals.”
“Yes, you indicated that when we applied for admittance. I gave you full disclosure about his limited violent tendencies and when they are most likely to occur. You told me this would be an appropriate facility for him. Are you suggesting he needs to be moved?”
“No. I’m not suggesting that.” The doctor pulled a file toward him, opened it, and looked through a couple of pages. “We were unable to reach you regarding the last incident. As you know, it is our policy to inform the individuals indicated in the contract when a violent incident occurs.”
“Yes. What about Sean or Ethan? They are listed next on the call list.”
“We were unable to reach them as well.”
“When was this?”
“A few days ago.”
“A few days ago, we had”—I paused, searching for the right words—“a family crisis of sorts. You should have been able to reach any of us the following day.”
“We are required to reach someone within twenty-four hours of an incident.”
I sighed. “I understand. What needs to happen?” Gods, I really wanted to get home and soak sometime today.
“We were able to locate and contact Jacob’s parents.”
I closed my eyes and sat silently, taking calming breaths. I should have just gotten up and left. But I did the right thing. Sometimes I hate the right thing.
“What did they have to say?”
“They are worried about the care their son is receiving.”
“I’m sure you informed them you have excellent ratings with the health department and are a top-notch facility for the mentally disabled.”
“Yes, of course.”
“And?”
“They conceded; however, they want to limit his contact with certain individuals.”
“No one sees Jacob except . . . they want me to stop visiting him?”
Dr. Peterson nodded, a pained look on his face.
“How, exactly, do they plan to do that?”
“It is my understanding when Mr. Schaffer was accepted into this facility, you two were married.”
“Yes.”
“And since then, you’ve sought and been granted a divorce.”
“Yes.”
“They claim they have the right to determine who can see their son.”
I took a deep breath. I really didn’t need a fight with my former in-laws. The courts granted me power of attorney for Jacob. Of course, that was before the divorce was final, so it could probably be easily rescinded.
“I’m sorry.” I grimaced at Dr. Peterson. “I understand you’re in a difficult situation. What are you asking me to do?”
“Legally, we have your power of attorney and cannot bar you from seeing Mr. Schaffer.”
“But?”
“The Schaffers indicated they would file a lawsuit against us if we allowed you to visit him again.”
“Thank you for letting me know. Would you mind if I called them right now to clear this up?”
“Not at all,” he said, apparently relieved by my desire to handle the situation instead of letting it continue.
I pulled my cell phone from my purse and looked up the phone number. Gina Schaffer answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Gina, this is Amanda.”
“How are you, dear?”
“Not terribly good at the moment. I’m sit
ting in Dr. Peterson’s office. He is reluctant to let me see Jacob.”
“Let me let you talk to George.” I was surprised she didn’t trip over the words, they’d spilled so quickly from her mouth. I heard the phone clunk down on something hard and I waited.
“Amanda,” George said.
“George,” I responded and fell silent. I let the silence linger.
“I understand you’re trying to visit Jacob.”
“Yes. The facility indicated you and Gina would file a lawsuit if they continue to let me visit him.”
“You understand, we have to do what’s best for Jacob.”
“Of course you want what’s best for your son. Why is me not seeing him what’s best?”
“The facility wasn’t able to contact you.”
“And?”
“And you need to be available if you’re needed.”
“This is the first time in how many years they haven’t been able to contact me?”
“Still. It’s concerning.”
I took a moment to breathe. How dare they! I made sure Jacob was cared for. I visited him. I paid for him. Not once did they offer to help. Helheim, they didn’t even visit him regularly.
“George, you are aware I pay for much of Jacob’s care.”
The line fell silent. “We’re on a fixed income,” George finally said.
“I understand. It’s been very difficult for me all of these years, raising the boys and making sure Jacob was cared for.”
“We simply can’t take care of him.”
“I guess you have a choice to make then.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can either help me with the fiscal responsibility, or you can allow me to visit Jacob.” My conscience took offense to how roughly I was treating him. I ignored it, mostly. I negotiated for a living. If I could negotiate for the benefit of others, by the gods, I was going to negotiate on behalf of myself.
I heard George’s breathing on the other end of the phone, fast and hard. Whether from anger or fear I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know.
“You can see Jacob,” he said.
“Wonderful. Would you please call the hospital and let them know?”
“Yes.” He spat out the word.
“One moment and I’ll get the number for you.” I covered the phone with my hand. “What number can they use?” I said to Dr. Peterson.
He gave me the number and I repeated it to George. Moments later, the phone on Dr. Peterson’s desk rang. I listened to Dr. Peterson’s end of the conversation. It appeared to be relatively cordial.
Dr. Peterson hung up the phone. “The Schaffers have rescinded their original request. You are free to visit Jacob.” He glanced up at Daniel. “After you’re no longer in need of a bodyguard.”
“Thank you, Dr. Peterson. I’m so sorry you were put in the middle of this.”
“It’s not a problem,” he said and walked us out.
My phone rang on the way to the car and I pulled it from my purse again.
“Ms. Byrne,” Mr. Wesley said.
“Mr. Wesley, I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“Mr. Thibodeaux just informed me Mr. Bradley has filed. Have you been served papers yet?”
“No.”
“Mr. Thibodeaux must have excellent sources.”
“He works miracles.”
“I’ll have to consider making use of his services,” he said. “Expect to be served very soon. Call me when you have the papers and we can discuss our response.”
“I will. Thank you for the phone call.” I disconnected and turned to Daniel. “I’m going to be served court papers.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Take the documents if they’re handed to you, but don’t open them.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. But he either didn’t get my humor or didn’t think it was funny.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The Pinot Noir danced on my tongue, and the kitchen was redolent of cooking food. I pulled two chicken breasts from the pan, placed them on the plate in the oven, and put two more of the breaded breasts in to fry. Sean and Ethan were due any minute for dinner. It felt so good to be home, even if I had a houseguest for the foreseeable future.
On one hand, I hadn’t considered what it meant to have someone living in my house. Someone who left the bathroom with a towel slung loosely around his hips. Someone whose eyes changed color when he laughed. Someone whose wardrobe consisted of T-shirts that were one size too small. Someone who made coffee if he was the first one up.
On the other hand, it had been two days since he’d arrived and the only times I had to myself was when he took a shower and when I locked myself in my bathroom for a long, hot bath.
The doorbell rang. I started toward the door but stopped when Daniel waved me off. I mouthed the word “sorry” and headed back to the kitchen.
“Ms. Byrne,” Daniel called.
I turned and met his eyes. “For the umpteenth time, it’s Amanda. Ma’am is bad enough. I’m not your mother.”
His cheeks tightened, but he didn’t allow the smile to cross his face. His eyes flicked downward, as if to look me up and down, but stopped and returned quickly to my face. “There’s someone to see you.”
I stepped around Daniel to find a young man dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt standing at my door.
“Are you Amanda Byrne?” he said.
“Yes.”
He handed me an envelope. “You’ve been served,” he said and walked briskly away. I turned, handed the papers to Daniel, and muttered “not your mother” under my breath. This time he did smile, and I watched the amber color fill his eyes. I sighed, wishing not for the first time that I could fall into their amber depths, turned back toward the open door, and reminded myself to call Mr. Wesley after dinner.
The young man who served me the documents passed Sean, Ethan, and Dillon on his way back to his car. Daniel and I stepped back to let the boys and dog through the door. My children gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Dillon sat down, wagged his tail, and gave a short whine.
I ruffled his head and ears. “Who’s a good boy?”
I went to the kitchen with Dillon at my heels. He bounced, bringing his front paws just off the ground, and barked. I rubbed him again and told him I had to finish cooking dinner. He sat and gave me his biggest doggie grin.
“You’ve got to ask Ethan for that,” I said to the dog and pointed to Ethan, who sat down at the kitchen table.
Dillon looked from me to Ethan and back again. Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Are you sure you don’t communicate with him? You know he shouldn’t have any people food.”
“Yeah, but everyone’s got to have a little fun sometimes,” I said.
“Oh, all right. But only a little,” he said to me and then said to Dillon, “Just a little bit.”
Dillon jumped around and ran in circles. I pulled one of the chicken breasts out of the oven and cut it into strips. I gave it to Ethan, who put Dillon through his paces before giving him a few slices. Afterward, the dog lay down just outside of the kitchen and put his head on his paws.
“Any sightings on the Rick front?” Sean said.
“No, thank the gods,” I said.
Daniel stepped into the kitchen, separated his feet slightly, and clasped his hands behind his back.
“I assume this means you want to say something?” I said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I rolled my eyes. He used his “yes, ma’am” response when he wanted me to think I was in charge.
We’d spent a few days dancing around each other. Watching TV together. Having light conversation. He spent most of his time in Texas, when he wasn’t on a job. He worked out a lot. He liked coffee as much as I did. And he could fall into and enjoy a comfortable silence, a sublime trait I’d found in very few people.
But any time it was time to go into bodyguard mode, the yes-ma’am’s came out.
“What’
s up?” I said.
“Since the dog is here, I’d like to take this opportunity to head out for an hour.” His eyes were focused somewhere behind me. I turned around to see what he saw, but the only thing there was my kitchen cabinet. I let myself smile at the thought of wearing low-cut shirts to give him somewhere to look and chuckled to myself. That would more than whisper “desperate.”
“Of course.” I turned back around to face Daniel, the smile still on my face until the full impact of what his request meant hit me. “I’m so sorry. Should we work something out so you get a break sometimes?”
“No, ma’am. This is my job. I expect to be engaged for as long as you need me.”
“You don’t have any backup, do you? Do you know anyone I could call?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
“You do realize, by not answering me, you’re actually answering me.”
Again, no response. I made a disgusted noise.
“Ethan, how long can you and Dillon stay around tonight?” I said.
“I’m good until eight or so.”
“Daniel, you’re good until eight.”
“I only need an hour.”
“Take until eight.” I turned to take the chicken off the stove and whirled back around. “Oh, don’t eat any fast food crap. I’ve got plenty here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is dinner, not bodyguarding crap. So, don’t yes, ma’am me on this one.”
One side of Daniel’s mouth lifted into a quirky half smile, his eyes twinkling. He was going to say it again. I could see him laughing inside at the idea of saying it again. But he surprised me.
“It smells wonderful. Thank you.”
I grinned. “My pleasure.”
Daniel nodded, put back on his bodyguard face, did an about-face, checked the newly installed security system to make sure it was armed, and locked the door behind him.
“What’s with the security system?” Sean said.
“Daniel had it installed. Since he’s not with me when either of us are in the bathroom or sleeping, he wanted something to alert him if someone tries to break in. You should see the gun safe he put in your old room.”
“He’s good,” Ethan said.
“He better be for what I’m paying him.”
Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1) Page 14
