by Jade Webb
Pulling away, Lawrence tucks Isabel’s hair behind her ears. “Okay, the piano, viola, Latin, and chess lessons are done. I’ll cancel them. Ballet I want you to finish out until your recital in a few weeks. You’ve dedicated a lot of time to practicing, and your class is depending on you. In the meantime, you can work with Yael on karate and if you want, I can sign you up for whatever studio you want to study in. How does that sound?”
A wide, toothy smile of pure delight stretches across Isabel’s face. Throwing her arms around her dad’s neck, she jumps up and down. “It sounds perfect!”
“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss on her forehead. Standing up, he looks back to me. “So, you girls figure out what you want to do for the rest of the week and work out a new schedule. I’ve got to work a few hours, but we can meet up for dinner?”
I nod and follow him with my eyes as he grabs his coffee and heads down the hall toward his office. Isabel wears a victorious smile as she makes herself breakfast, and I continue leaning against the counter, replaying the scene in my head. Everything about Lawrence Monroe feels confusing, and so overwhelming: his looks, his wealth, his home. I had written him off as an entitled asshole, but why? True, my first impression of him wasn’t the greatest. But hadn’t he just been worried about his daughter and had wanted to protect her?
I know I have a bad habit of being too quick to write people off. Truthfully, it was because I never wanted to be the one left hurt and disappointed, so I pushed people away before they could do it to me. And though someone like Lawrence might enjoy someone like me for a night, it was clear I had no place in his world. I was an immigrant with no college degree, not an idea in the world what I wanted to do with my life, and no savings. Men like Lawrence didn’t go for messes like me. No, it was better to close that door, because someone as alluring as Lawrence Monroe could be a very dangerous man for someone as lonely and broken as me.
9
Yael
“Did my dad really tell you I liked the park?” Isabel asks as we walk together to the large, grassy field dotted with people sitting, enjoying picnics and playing Frisbee. An impressive children’s playground with a tall jungle gym and hordes of screaming children playing rests a few hundred feet away.
“Yes, but something tells me that may not be accurate,” I answer as I take in her disappointed face. At my side, Julep pulls at her leash when she sees another dog. I give a sharp tug on her leash and she quickly slows down, matching my pace. Despite being a quick learner, Julep is going to need a lot of work.
At my side, Isabel shrugs. “I don’t hate the park. But I haven’t really loved coming here since I was a little kid.” She pauses and looks up at me, her eyes catching the sun, making them an even more stunning shade of cerulean blue. “Sometimes I don’t think my dad realizes I’m not a baby girl anymore.”
I nod knowingly and gesture for her to follow. We find a small patch of grass and I drop down and pat a space next to me for Julep to sit. Isabel sits as well, drawing her knees to her chest.
“You know, growing up I had a similar problem,” I tell her. “Except my father didn’t see me as a baby girl. He saw me as a soldier. Instead of playing with dolls and being with friends, he wanted me to train with him. Sometimes I wish I got to have a little more time to be a child.”
Isabel defiantly shakes her head. “But I don’t want to play with dolls anymore. How come I can’t also train to be a soldier?”
I smile and give her cheek a quick pinch. “Motek, sweetie, you can do both. But sometimes it feels good for your dad to see you as a little girl. I’m sure it’s hard for him, because he loves you so much, to see you growing up so fast.”
Isabel’s frown disappears and is quickly replaced by a bright smile. She jumps up from the grass and brings her two small hands to guard her face as she throws out a quick series of punches. I lean back on the grass as I watch her.
“He won’t be sad when he sees how quickly I become a black belt!”
I can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of my lips at her enthusiasm. I continue to watch her, calling out corrections to her punches or her stance as she continues. Like Julep, she is a fast learner and surprisingly, requires far less instruction.
Isabel’s cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as she continues to practice, tiring herself out. Still, she keeps going, repeating the sequence of punches I had taught her during the movie last night.
When she starts another set, Julep lets out a low growl, pulling my attention away from Isabel.
“Julep,” I start to admonish before tilting my head and seeing, from the trees, a man dressed in black, a camera slung around his neck. He’s just over a hundred feet away and he doesn’t see me watching as he raises his camera and points it directly at us. I press my hand into Julep’s fur and continue to watch the man from the corner of my eye. Though there’s a chance he could be photographing any of the other dozen people here, in my gut, I have an uneasy feeling he is here for us.
“Yael, watch me!” Isabel orders, and I quickly turn my head to watch her, pasting a large smile on my face. I let a few seconds pass before I jerk my head back around. The figure is still there, except this time he knows I’ve seen him. He drops the camera around his neck and jumps away. I dig my phone out of my pocket to try and get my own picture of him, but I’m too late. He disappears into the tree line and I know I’ve lost him. I jump up, eager to chase after him. I can’t leave Isabel behind, though, and I reluctantly turn back to her. She looks at me wide-eyed and I focus my camera on her, feigning taking a video of her practicing. The smile instantly returns to her face as she resumes. She looks so carefree and happy. I don’t have the heart to ruin her day. But still, I don’t think it’s smart to stay here: I feel too much like a sitting target.
“Isabel, how about we go grab a snack before heading home?” I ask her.
“Yes!” she cheers, jumping excitedly up and down.
I grab Julep’s leash and collect my bag. As we walk back to the car, Isabel slips her hand into mine.
“You’re a good friend, Yael,” she says as she looks up at me, a content smile on her face.
Her simple words tug at me and I’m not quite sure how to respond. “Thank you, Isabel. You’re a good friend, too,” I say after a moment. My words bring a wide smile to her face, and I can’t help but offer her a genuine one of my own in return.
“Daddy, we’re home!” Isabel shouts as we walk in the door.
Lawrence opens the door to his study and slides off a pair of black-rimmed glasses, tucking them into his pocket. He presses a quick kiss to Isabel’s head and affectionally runs his hand through her hair. “How was the park?”
Isabel shoots me a furtive smile before answering. “It was great, Dad.”
Lawrence shoots me a questioning look and I shrug my shoulders, feigning ignorance.
“Uh, that’s great, baby. Why don’t you finish up your homework before dinner?”
Isabel nods and perches on her toes to give her dad another kiss on the cheek before running upstairs.
Lawrence watches as she scurries away and then looks back to me, an adorably confused expression on his face. “Is she feeling okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I was expecting a lecture on how the park is for little kids.”
Despite my best efforts, a smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “Hm,” I respond, noncommittally.
“Did you say something to her?”
“No, of course not,” I answer quickly, shaking my head.
He narrows his eyes at me, and I can see why it’s so easy for Isabel to get away with murder in this house. I think he’s trying to look intimidating, but the obvious affection in his eyes diminishes the effect. Instead, it comes off completely unthreatening, and oddly endearing.
“Anyways,” I say, changing the subject. “I was hoping I could get the footage from that attempted kidnapping at Isabel’s school.”
“What do you want that for?”
I’m not read
y to tell him what I saw at the park earlier. I’m still not sure myself if the man was there for us, and I don’t want to worry him. “I just want to make sure I’m doing my due diligence.”
“I think the police investigated every aspect—”
“I just want to take a second look,” I interrupt.
Lawrence nods and walks back down the hall into his office. I follow behind and he grabs a USB flash drive out of his desk. “It’s all on here,” he says as he hands it to me.
“Thanks. I’m going to take a look at it now upstairs. I’ll bring it down when I’m done.”
“Okay,” he says as he turns back to his office. Stopping halfway, he turns back around. “Thanks for offering to look at it.”
Again, I’m caught off guard by how easily he wears his emotions on his face. His gratitude is unmistakable. I’m not used to interacting with people who are so open and transparent with their feelings. It both unnerves and confuses me. And if there is anything I hate in this world, it’s feeling like I don’t have a grasp on something. And with every passing minute, Lawrence just seems to confuse me more and more.
“Sure,” I respond clumsily before turning down the hall and rushing up the stairs. Once in my room, I pop the flash drive into my laptop. Grabbing my phone, I shoot out a quick text to Eva. You busy?
She replies a second later. Season 28 of Housewives. So yes. But I can always take a quick break for you ;)
I shake my head, lamenting the wasted potential of that girl. I make a mental note to drag her outside the next time I’m over. Can you remote into my laptop? I want you to watch a video with me.
A second later my screen quickly flickers, and I know she’s in. I had uncovered Eva’s secret trick shortly after moving in. I had a suspicion when she had mistakenly quoted an email that I hadn’t told her about. Despite being a skilled hacker, she is the world’s worst liar and cracks easily under pressure. I quickly learned that her simple taking over of my computer was just the beginning of the many tricks up her sleeve. It was probably a good thing she watched as much TV as she did, because behind her laptop screen, she could be positively lethal.
I open the video file and start the clip. It’s shot from one of the cameras overlooking Isabel’s school. Even though it’s not the best quality, I’m able to easily identify Isabel with a few friends. They all have lollipops in their mouths as they jump rope outside. Suddenly a black car pulls up by the school and a figure in a black sweatshirt and baseball cap approaches the group of girls. Without warning, he jumps toward Isabel and pulls her into his arms. She screams as the girls around her scatter. In the corner of the frame, I see another woman run toward her. The attacker then drops Isabel and runs back into the car, driving away as the woman comforts Isabel. The whole scene takes less than two minutes.
I stop the video, rewind it, and play back the part where the attacker lifts Isabel into his arms. There’s something awkward about the interaction. I quickly dial Eva.
“Do you see it?” I ask her as I replay the clip a third time.
“It’s just so…” she starts.
“Awkward,” I finish for her.
“Why is that?”
“There!” I shout as I pause the clip again. I zoom into the frame. “Do you see it?” I ask her again.
“Is he…is he grabbing her lollipop?” Eva asks.
“He is,” I confirm as I play the clip in slow motion.
“Look how he grabs her by the waist and his hand immediately goes for the lollipop in her mouth. He didn’t even try to drag her back to his car,” Eva says as she takes control of my laptop and zooms in on the assailant’s hands. “I don’t think he wanted her,” Eva says, her voice laced with confusion.
“No,” I confirm, as I watch the clip a final time. “He didn’t. He wanted the lollipop.”
10
Lawrence
A light knock at my office door has me tearing my eyes away from my computer screen and looking up to see an uncharacteristically demure Yael peering into the doorframe from the hallway.
I quickly look down at the clock in the upper-right corner of my computer screen. It’s ten past nine.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Yael. I lost track of the time.” It’s already been a week since Yael moved in and I had wanted to set some time aside to talk about Isabel’s updated schedule and check in on how things were going. With all my work commitments, it had been difficult to find a time for the two of us to finally catch up. Over texts, we had agreed on meeting later in the night since Yael did not seem to even go to sleep until at least midnight every night. I had no idea how she still managed to wake up by six every morning, though I think part of that is due to the four coffees loaded up with sugar that she drinks throughout the day.
“I can come back —“ she offers before I hold up my hand, interrupting her.
“No need, I need to take a break anyways. How do you feel about going outside for a bit? I can light the fire pit? It’s nice in the warm weather. And I’m betting Julep will want to a final bathroom break before the night is up.”
She offers me a quick nod in agreement, and follows me as we walk down the hall. Once we reach the kitchen, I make a beeline for the fridge and open it to grab a beer. I don’t drink beer often — if I am going to drink, I’m going for a strong bourbon, especially after a long day at the office. But something about a warm summer night inspires me to reach for one. And perhaps also in part due to how unnerved I feel whenever I seem to be around Yael.
I stick my head out from behind the fridge door. “Beer?”
Yael offers me a curious stare before giving me a quick nod. I’ve started to learn more of her expressions and how to interpret them. She doesn’t have too many, and most of them involve some kind of eye roll or biting down on her lip. She’s not the most expressive, and I find myself obsessively watching her when she’s not noticing, to try and see if I can learn the subtle facets of the way she quirks her brow, or the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s especially passionate about. Like a puzzle with a thousand pieces, I am slowly putting together a complete picture of this woman who has somehow seemed to occupy the majority of my thoughts throughout the day.
I open the doors out to the back patio, letting Julep out first to run around, and carry the beers outside before flicking the switch to the fire pit. Instantly, it roars to life and I grab a seat opposite Yael. She takes the beer when I offer it and swallows a long sip. Her back is pin straight in her seat and she looks uncomfortable, almost nervous.
We sit in silence for a few long moments as I take a sip and do my best to make sure I’m not making my assessment of her so obvious.
“Thanks for meeting with me. I really appreciate it,” I say after a long pause.
She shrugs her shoulder in response. A subtle, silent move that I’ve come to learn is one she frequently gives whenever I give her even the slightest of compliments. I can tell any sort of flattery makes her uncomfortable and it’s been a challenge for me to remember. I’m cautious to try and not make her think I am the asshole I was when we had first met. Seeing how well Isabel has done with Yael makes me regret how rude and thoughtless I had been, something that I hope Yael will see.
“Anyways,” I continue, “I wanted to just check in on how things have been going for this past week. How has Isabel been? And how have you been adjusting?”
She shoots me a curious look and lifts her left shoulder in a shrug again. “I’m adjusting fine. And Isabel,” she continues, a smile catching at the corner of her lips when she says her name, “is wonderful. She has so much spirit and has been so much fun to be with. I really enjoy her.”
I can’t help but smile at her words. It hasn’t been easy trying to find someone that Isabel felt comfortable being with. And finding someone who also enjoyed her, and who also saw my daughter for the amazing little girl she was, filled me with a sense of pride.
“I’m glad you two are getting along so well. She doesn’t have the greatest tr
ack record with her other nannies.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m not a nanny.”
“Well, speaking of that, has she mentioned knowing exactly what you are doing here?”
Yael nods and shifts in her seat to bring her brown eyes up to mine. Her eyes are stunning: dark and wide, and when they lock on you, it’s as if she’s looking past the surface level and grabbing onto something far more intimate. But rather than feel terrifying, it feels comforting.
“She knows it’s because of what happened at school,” Yael confirms.
My stomach tightens. Even though she hasn’t had any more nightmares or brought it up with me, I am still worried about how the event at school impacted her. I hate the idea that I can’t protect her. “Has she mentioned feeling scared? Or unsafe?”
Yael shakes her head. “No, she says she feels safe with me.”
She says it so nonchalantly, as if she’s remarking on the warm weather or offering me a glass of water. It’s as if she doesn’t know how powerful her words are, how much comfort they provide me. And when Yael catches me watching her, her eyes widen a bit, confused by my intent assessment.
“You know, I never had the chance to apologize for being such an ass that first day we met.”
I catch the subtle flash of surprise cross Yael’s eyes as she watches me. She sits up straighter in her seat and looks down at the bottle of beer she’s been toying with in her hands.
She shakes her head. “You don’t need to apologize,” she says softly.
“Yes, I do. I was an asshole. I was scared and exhausted and worried about my daughter, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I’m sorry.”
She looks up and the corners of her lips curl almost imperceptibly. “Well, it’s in the past.” She takes a quick sip from her drink. “Besides, you aren’t the first and definitely won’t be the last,” she adds with a teasing smile.
“It must be hard to be a bodyguard in such a male dominated field.”
