by Ashlyn Chase
Vic huffed, disgusted. He walked to where Michele stood. She stooped and pulled another book out of the box.
“Why are you doing all the work out here?” he asked.
She let out a sigh and whispered, “Because Kip’s been on the phone, and it needs to get done. We had a couple of customers digging through the boxes when I got out here.”
“You’re kidding. Has she been on the phone this whole time?”
“Yeah. She seems to have an admirer.”
Vic stormed over to the counter and growled, “Hang up the phone, Kip. Now.”
Her back straightened and she turned her head toward Vic slowly. “I’ll call you back,” she said and slammed the receiver down.
Michele dropped what must have been a heavy book by the sound of the thud, and appeared next to Vic.
“Look. I’m sick of you two not getting along. Go out for coffee and don’t come back until you’ve straightened out whatever it is that bugs you about each other. Got it?”
There was nothing wrong with her assertiveness, he decided. She just had a soft spot for the kid. He needed to make Kip understand that taking advantage of that wasn’t cool.
Vic stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go across the street. I don’t want to leave her alone for too long.” He’d rather not drive in his condition, either.
Kip blew out a deep breath and looked at him with distain, but she climbed off the stool and grabbed her thin, black sweater. “Fine.”
Michele ran a hand through her hair and looked relieved to see them go.
* * * * *
The restaurant wasn’t crowded, so Vic and Kip had been able to find a booth in the corner, dispelling the possibility of eavesdroppers.
Vic did most of the talking. It was difficult, since the codeine had kicked in, and his brain didn’t feel like working this hard, but the long silences were filled with their own kind of pain. He was sure Kip must have something to say, but she just sat across from him wearing the same blank stare.
“Kip, are you hearing any of this?”
“Every word.”
“So what do you think?”
“That I’m a lazy slacker, that Michele is just being nice because she feels sorry for me, and I’m not worthy of her trust.”
“I never said any of that!”
Kip folded her arms and slouched against the back of her padded, bench seat. “That’s what you meant, though.”
Vic leaned an elbow on the table and held his forehead in his hand. “No, it’s not. I’m being honest with you. I said I don’t dislike you. I wasn’t crazy about your lax work ethics, but I know you can change that. I wouldn’t bother talking with you about it, otherwise.”
“You were talking about me getting nowhere with my attitude.”
Getting sick of her self-pitying bullshit, he sat up straight and leaned forward. “I would have gotten nowhere with an attitude like that. Since I’m being honest, yeah, your attitude won’t achieve anything. No one owes you a living, Kip. If you want something, you have to work for it.”
“I don’t see you working,” she said.
“Well I am.” Vic crossed his arms in front of him. “I have a profitable business. It’s set up to pretty much take care of itself, but it didn’t start out that way. I had to do a lot of hard work to get it rolling.”
“Like what is it you do, anyway?”
“I run a security company.”
“A bunch of lazy security guards? And you complain about me not working harder?”
“My company isn’t a bunch of lazy security guards. I hire, train, and pay bodyguards. Sometimes the job is damn dangerous. I only accept the best. I screen potential clients and give out assignments based on the best candidate for each individual situation.”
Kip sat forward and squinted, as if challenging him. “But you never worked as a bodyguard yourself, did you?”
“Of course I did. I still do on occasion. There are plenty of times when I’m the right guy for the job.”
Kip leaned back. One side of her mouth curled up as if something sarcastic was running through her mind.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Vic was fresh out of patience and tossed his hands in the air. “Look, we can’t resolve anything if you refuse to communicate honestly.”
Kip shrugged.
“This is going nowhere,” he growled. “Why don’t we just try to get along for Michele’s sake?”
“Yeah. I know she really wants us to. I guess you two are in love, huh?”
Vic dropped his head and tried to hide his guilty expression.
“So, you’ve been fucking her, but you don’t love her?”
“I haven’t . . .” Vic didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Should he lie? After talking about honest communication?
“I get it,” she said, nodding.
“What do you mean when you say, ‘I get it’?”
Her back straightened, and she looked even more arrogant. “Either you were just doing your job, or you saw that she was vulnerable and decided to take advantage of her.”
Vic didn’t say a word. What could he say? That he was guilty? Damn the little juvenile delinquent! She had backed him into a corner. Why didn’t he see it coming?
“Look,” Vic said. “I don’t want to hurt her. I only want to help her. I hope you can see that. I don’t think you want to see her get hurt, either. Right?”
“Of course not.” Kip fidgeted in her seat. “She treats me like a person. I really like her.”
“Then let’s forget everything except what we can agree on, all right?”
“Like?”
Vic let out a long breath. God, this kid was frustrating. He extended his hand. “I think we agreed that we’d try to get along for her sake, and we’d try to keep her from getting hurt.”
Kip appeared to mull it over, and then reached across the table and shook his hand.
* * * * *
Michele answered the phone and was surprised to hear Alex’s voice sounding nervous.
“I . . . I have something to tell you.”
“What?”
“It’s Savern. She’s all right, but she went into premature labor.”
“Good Lord and Lady! Where is she?”
“She’s in the hospital. They stopped the labor, but they’re going to keep an eye on her tonight and release her in the morning if everything’s okay. And after that she has to be on bed-rest until the baby comes. Doctor’s orders. I’m sorry, if that’s not the holistic approach you had planned and I know that leaves you short-handed at the shop.”
When Kip and Vic returned to the shop, she waved to them and continued her conversation. “It’s okay, really. We’ll be fine here.”
Alex sighed. “I wish there was more time to train Kip. It’s putting a lot on your shoulders. I’m glad Vic is staying close, though, or else it would be out of the question. You need someone between you and Donovan if he shows up again.”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m sure he won’t let me out of his sight.” She turned and winked at Vic. Michele heard Savern’s voice in the background.
“Savern said to say hello.”
“Tell her I said hi and to stay off her feet. I’m worried about her, Alex.”
“She’ll be okay.”
Savern’s voice came over loud and clear. “Tell her this sucks.”
“She said . . .”
“I heard her, Alex. Tell her I said, yes it does, but do exactly what the doctor says. I understand how my midwifery plans might have to be put on hold until she’s stable.”
“I will. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take good care of her. Owning your own business means you can take time off when you need to, as long as you have good help. Thank goodness I do.”
Michele had mixed feelings. She was glad Alex had a great team, and someday she might too, but right now . . . “I’m sure you’ll be a great help to her. Call me if you need anything. I can close up and come right ov
er.”
When Michele hung up, she turned to Vic and Kip. “Savern’s at the hospital. She’s been ordered to stay on bed-rest for the rest of her term.”
“Oh no,” Kip said, a concerned expression clouded her face.
“She’ll be fine. Alex is going to take some time off and stay home with her.”
“Who’s going to take care of his business?” Vic asked.
“The manager. Kevin. You must know him.”
“Oh. Sure,” Vic said. His gaze drifted toward Kip.
Michele walked around the counter and joined them on the other side. “So did you two kiss and make up?”
Kip made a face.
“We shook hands,” Vic said. “I save my kisses for you.” They shared a simple peck and Kip wandered over to the shelves.
“Did you need me to straighten out anything here?” Kip asked.
“No. It’s all set.” Michele put her arms around Vic’s neck and smiled into his hazel eyes. “You seem much calmer now.”
“Yeah.” He nodded but glanced over at Kip.
“Is there anything I can straighten up in the storage area?” she asked.
Delighted, Michele smiled. Their talk must have been productive. What a difference, already. “Yeah. There are a couple of little things you can do. C’mon I’ll show you.” They strode to the back room and the storage area behind the screens. Vic stayed in the store.
“Michele,” Kip whispered. “I need to tell you something.” She laid a gentle hand on her arm.
Something wasn’t right. Kip’s voice dropped to barely audible, and Michele had to lean closer. “What? I can hardly hear you.”
“Vic isn’t who you think he is.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“He’s been working as your bodyguard all this time. And, he doesn’t love you, even if he’s told you so.”
Michele pulled back. “He hasn’t. But, what do you mean about his working as my bodyguard? I don’t have a bodyguard.”
“Yes, you do.” Kip dug deep into her pocket and produced a small black box. Then she fished a note out of her other pocket. “I found these two things on the floor when you and Vic were in the back office. I wasn’t the one who messed up the store. I was going to show it to you when you came out, but then the phone rang, and then Vic came out and got mad at me, and well . . .” She shoved the items at Michele. “Here . . .”
The note was in Donovan’s handwriting:
M,
I came looking for the grail, and even though
I didn’t find it, I found something else that
might interest you . . . It looks like you do
have a stalker, but it isn’t me. This is a
camera and it was hidden in a vent. I’ll bet
your boyfriend put it there—his energy is all
over it. Why don’t you ask him? I know how
much you hate being lied to.
-- D
Michele leveled her gaze at Kip, who took a deep breath and continued. “He said he assigns himself to cases when he’s the best one for the job. Maybe he thought that if he was your boyfriend, you wouldn’t even realize he was working.”
What the hell? Michele took a few steps back and looked at Kip’s face. There was no insincerity there.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want him to hurt you, but in the long run . . . It seemed the sooner you knew, the better.”
Michele wandered over to the futon. Reflecting on the time they had made love there, she couldn’t sit on it. Their first time. She remembered his reluctance. Who could have hired and paid him? Alex. Of course. No wonder her step-dad was so angry when she told him they were having sex.
“Um, Kip. I need to be alone.”
“Sure. I’ll be in the store . . .”
“No. I think you should go home. I’m going to close for the day.”
“What about Vic?”
“I’ll need to talk with him, but I don’t want you here when I do.”
Kip nodded. “Gonna dump him?”
Michele could feel a lump rapidly rising in her throat. She couldn’t even say it’s none of your damn business. She just turned her back and waited until she could speak. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She had never been good at handling negativity, but she really couldn’t stand it anymore. Finally, she turned back to Kip and said, “Can I have your key please?”
Kip stared at her without moving. “Are you firing me?”
“Your key please?”
Kip disappeared and returned with her backpack. She threw the key at Michele and just before she stormed out the back door, she called over her shoulder, “I never stole anything you know.”
“How kind of you.”
Before she spoke to Vic, she needed to talk to Alex. She closed the door, picked up the phone and dialed.
When he answered, she said, “So, you hired me a boyfriend, huh?”
“Oh, he must have told you. I’m sorry, honey. It was the only way . . .” That was all Alex had a chance to say.
She slammed the receiver down and balled her fists. She could feel heat rising to her face and tears burning the back of her eyes. She grabbed an iron cauldron off one of the shelves and threw it at the wall as hard as she could. It hit with such force, it dented the sheet rock, then clattered to the floor.
* * * * *
Vic opened the door and looked in. “Is everything all right?”
She turned her glare on him and pursed her lips. She reminded him of a bull. Her nostrils flared and it looked as if any moment she’d be pawing the ground.
Vic moved toward her. “What’s the matter? Where’s Kip?”
“I sent her home,” Michele said. Her voice had a flat, controlled quality.
“What in the world happened back here?”
“I know, Vic. I didn’t take anyone’s word for it, though. I called Alex and he confirmed that you were paid to be my bodyguard boyfriend.”
“Michele, wait.” Vic advanced slowly holding his arms out to her, hoping to steady her with his touch. Hell, he needed to steady himself. His heart lurched and he could barely breathe.
Michele took a giant step backward. “Wait for what? What kind of an explanation can you possibly have?” Her voice shook. “You aren’t going to call my stepfather a liar are you?” Her face was reddening and her body trembled.
Vic stopped his advance and gentled his voice. “No, Michele. I’m not.”
She turned her back and burst into tears.
Vic couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her. That little bitch had figured it out, then she said something that made Michele call Alex. Kip said she wouldn’t hurt her, and then she did. He was an idiot to have believed her. He should have pulled Michele into the back room first and told her himself.
He tried to put his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged them off. “Michele, please . . .”
“Get out!” Gut wrenching sobs followed.
“Wait, sweetheart. Please, let me talk.”
“Out! And don’t come back!” She had grabbed some sort of blue stone off one of the shelves, and held it to her throat. Her voice steadied. “Go, immediately, or I’ll call the police.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ll go, but we need to talk as soon as you calm down.”
She turned just enough to glare at him with wet, red eyes. “I never want to speak to you again. Now, leave my shop.”
Vic felt his throat constrict. All he could do was offer a sad nod and leave. On the way out he told himself he had no other choice. Wasn’t he the one who had said, “If you tell a man to leave you alone, he should—no ifs, ands, or buts?”
Damning himself all the way to his car, he got in, revved the engine, and left rubber as he roared out of the parking lot and turned the corner.
Chapter 14
Vic had his hands in his pockets as he walked into his home office. He’d called Alex on the way home and they’d agreed to talk about a replacement after Michele had c
almed down. Now, there were business items he had let go that needed to be done. Paychecks were taken care of automatically, thank God, or he’d really be in trouble with his guys.
He flipped through his desk calendar and tried to organize his thoughts. He should touch base with them. He should call around to his sources and try to find a replacement for himself. Now he had the prefect assignment for the new female bodyguard. She might be able to protect Michele and work at the shop at the same time . . . and he wouldn’t have to worry about some other guy hitting on her.
Too many images of Michele’s trembling body and tears invaded his mind. He had to get back to work, but it would be impossible today.
He wandered outside, thinking of getting into the hot tub, but it was filled with memories of her. He went upstairs to his home gym, intending to work out as hard as he could, but that lasted seconds before he realized his neck was killing him and his energy was nil.
His heart was killing him too. Sinking on to the carpet, he sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
Carmen’s voice interrupted his pain. “Mr. Vic. I thought I heard you come home early.”
He looked up slowly. His long-time housekeeper held a pile of folded towels. Her brow furrowed as she studied his face.
“Something’s wrong.” She said it as a fact, not a question.
Vic shook his head and looked at the carpet.
“Don’t tell me no. Where’s your lady friend?”
Vic let out a deep breath but didn’t answer or raise his head.
“Oh, Mr. Vic. She broke your heart.” Her voice was soft and sympathetic.
“I’m not heartbroken, Carmen. It’s probably for the best.”
She snorted. “I raised four sons. Don’t tell me you’re not heartbroken. I know what it looks like. And I’m looking at it, right now.”
“I’m disappointed. I’ll say that much.” Vic ran his fingers over the carpet, then realized he was creating the same Japanese garden pattern in the plush rug that Michele had created in the sand. He stopped abruptly, tore off the amulet she had given him, and threw it across the room.
“No, Mr. Vic. You are not disappointed. You are brokenhearted.”
