Namir was still sipping coffee the next morning when Constantine glided into the dining room wearing a very thin 1920’s style robe. It was obvious there was nothing underneath. She smiled sweetly at him as she seated herself and waited for Greta to pour her coffee.
Namir was used to a mug of coffee, not the porcelain little cups that had matching saucers. His fingers felt clumsy and too big. He was afraid he was going to break it, and he had no idea what it would cost to replace one. Constantine sensed his discomfort.
“Greta, bring this man a man’s cup for his coffee.”
Namir sat silently staring at the empty plate in front of him, wondering if he should fix his own breakfast, or if it was Greta’s job. He noticed that the table was set for three. He didn’t have to wonder long. Greta came back with a regular coffee mug and filled it for him from the silver carafe on the table. She left momentarily and returned with a platter of steaming scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.
He helped his plate and glanced briefly at Constantine. “I want to go over some security details with the two of you today.”
“Like what?”
“The perimeter of the property should have a fence, and the driveway a gate.”
“I’ll leave all of that to you. Taylor won’t like it, though.”
Taylor shuffled into the room wearing shorts and a large t-shirt. Her feet were in oversized pink slippers. She glanced at the table.
“Ugh…he’s still here?”
Namir dropped his eyes and concentrated on his plate of food.
“Good morning to you too, darling.” Constantine said dryly.
Taylor plopped down in a chair in front of the other empty plate. She reached for the serving spoon for the eggs. Constantine slapped it away.
“What are you trying to do? Wreck that million dollar body?”
Namir lifted his eyes only and watched Taylor’s reaction.
Taylor’s face turned red, but she stared at her mother defiantly. “Twenty million dollar body. Let’s not forget that at twenty I’m already worth more than you!” She said hotly and left the table.
Constantine picked up the neatly folded morning paper and opened it to the Leisure section. “She’ll thank me someday.”
Namir walked the perimeter of the property. There was a large in ground pool to the left of the house just beyond what looked like a three car garage. The pool was hidden from the street by several trees and a short row of boxwoods. The right side of the house just held grass and a mirror image of the trees and boxwoods. The back held the pool house, directly across from the pool, which Greta had mentioned. It backed up on the left to the ring of trees that circled the backyard. The only other structure was a gardener’s shed that faced the pool and left side of the house. The back of the house had a flat patio with chairs and tables, and a large stainless steel grill. It looked like it had never been used.
Namir came back to the pool where Taylor was laying on a tanning chair and Constantine was sitting at an umbrella covered table. He was starting to think that she didn’t like the sun.
“You definitely need fencing and a gate, and I want to install motion detector flood lights on each corner of the house.
Taylor shaded her eyes from the sun and scowled. “So every time a raccoon runs through the yard there will be light everywhere?” She lowered her hand and closed her eyes again. “No way.”
It was hard for Namir to keep his eyes on her face. She laid on her back in a red and black bikini, her tan skin glistening in the sun.
“You need it, and I’m going to make the necessary arrangements for it.”
“Just who do you think you are?” She said coming off of the chair and grabbing the towel that she had been laying on.
“You’re body guard.” He said simply, and walked away.
Taylor announced at dinner that she intended on staying home for the next couple of weeks and that she was going shopping the next day for a dog.
Constantine nearly choked on her steak. “What? Why?”
“Why what, mother? Why am I staying home? I want to, and Goliath over her is going to do a major renovation on my house, which I should be present for. Why the dog? Because I want it, and I’m hoping it will bite him.” Taylor grabbed her glass of wine and drained it. She had barely touched the salad on her plate.
Constantine pouted like a child. “I thought we could work on drumming up a movie part for you.”
“That’s Jason’s job, and he’s taking the week off anyway.”
Constantine rolled her eyes. “Please! He’ll be here before the week is up. You know you can’t stand his trifling little wife and noisy kids!”
Taylor shook her head. Her gray eyes gazed at her mother with contempt. As usual, Namir just watched the show with mild nausea. Taylor stood suddenly.
“Namir, I want to go for a walk.”
Namir looked regretfully at his half eaten plate.
“For goodness sake let the man finish eating, Taylor! You’re so selfish!”
Namir stood, carefully laying the linen napkin next to his plate. “No, it’s fine. I can finish later.”
“He should be eating in the kitchen with Greta anyway.” Taylor murmured.
The evening air was a perfect benign temperature. The summer would be winding down soon, and the nights were already starting to be cooler.
Namir walked a few paces behind Taylor as she walked through the backyard and into the tree line.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Namir warned.
Taylor stopped, turning her head slightly so he would know that she had heard him. Without a word she continued into the trees.
“Well, shoot.” Namir whispered. He followed, cursing how much darker it was within the trees. Most of them were Pines and there weren’t many branches to contend with as Taylor continued to walk. She finally came to a small clearing, and Namir could see the backside of several houses roughly a hundred yards away. One back yard had three children squealing gleefully as they chased lightening bugs with mason jars. A brown dog barked and jumped happily with them.
Taylor sat on the ground and pulled her knees into her chest. Her plain white sneakers bit into the grass and dirt. Her loose fitting summer sweater looked too big and made her seem frail and childlike as she sat on the edge of the clearing. Namir looked at her in the waning light. Her pale gray eyes watched the children with something akin to longing.
Namir sat several feet away from her, glancing at her often. Her profile wasn’t angry or cynical, she looked like a kid who wished the other kids would ask her to play. It made Namir sad. He pulled at a blade of grass and manipulated it in his hand. When he cupped his hands and brought it to his lips, a low short whistle sounded. The dog barked a reply.
“How did you do that?” Taylor was staring at him with a cross between skepticism and wonder.
“Like this.” Namir pulled another blade of grass and scooted closer to her. He showed her how her how to do it, but her first attempt failed. “Try again.” He said softly. After her third attempt a tiny whistle blew from her cupped hands. She grinned broadly. For Namir that made the whole defiant tromp through the darkening woods worth it.
“We better get back.”
Taylor looked longingly to the backyard of children, but didn’t protest. She stood and brushed off the back of her khaki shorts.
“What did you do before you became a body guard?”
“I was a Marine.”
“Did you like it?”
“No.”
An owl hooted nearby. “Why not?”
Namir drew in breath. An image of a screaming woman in a black burqa throwing herself over the body of her dead child scorched a hole through his brain. He stumbled slightly in the near darkness. He felt Taylor reach out and grab his arm.
“Hey, are you ok?”
“I’m fine. It must have been a root.” He replied gruffly.
Taylor looked at him doubtfully. She couldn’t see his face plainly, but she sensed
he was sweating.
“So why didn’t you like it?”
“I liked…serving my country, but I didn’t always like…what had to be done.”
Taylor nodded. In her own way she understood exactly what he meant.
They were almost to the edge of the trees that lined Taylor’s back yard when a scent wafted, strong and pungent, into Namir’s nostrils. He reached his arm forward and pulled Taylor back.
“Hey!” She hissed.
“Quiet.” He ordered. He closed his eyes and pulled air in through his mouth and nose, allowing his tongue to touch the night air. There it was again. Excitement. Fear. He could taste the emotions. He could smell them. But he couldn’t tell Taylor that. How would explain it? None of that mattered. The only thing that was important in that moment was that there was someone in the back yard.
Taylor squinted through the trees trying to see why Namir had stopped her. The light was almost gone and the crescent moon gave little light.
“Stay right here.” Namir whispered and pushed her into a squatting position. He took off his shoes and socks before moving silently into the yard.
Taylor couldn’t hear him as he trotted away, but she seemed to hear everything else. A stick snapped somewhere to her right. With wide eyes she turned her head to try and see what had caused the noise.
Namir crouched low and moved steadily towards the back of the house. There was a bulky shape sitting on one of the patio tables. He approached more slowly and breathed the air in even slower. Roses. He turned his head from one side to the other trying to pin point which direction the person had gone who had left the roses. A faint smell came to his right and he followed it into the tree line. He took several tentative steps before stopping to smell again. He tried several more times, adjusting his body angle each time, but it was no good. The trail had simply vanished.
Taylor nearly screamed when Namir came to her side and touched her shoulder gently. He grabbed his shoes and socks, and took her by the hand. Once they were back inside the house he went into the kitchen and cut off all the lights.
“What in the hell is that man doing?” Constantine demanded. “And why is he not wearing shoes and socks?”
Taylor shook her head, but didn’t respond. She knew something had been very wrong. That it was still wrong. Greta had left the kitchen as soon as the silent Namir had entered and cut the lights off. She watched with her arms around her waist, as he stood stock still, just staring out of the glass doors.
When Namir was satisfied he unlocked the door by its brass dead bolt and stepped outside. He picked up the vase of flowers and brought them in to the kitchen table. Taylor cut the light on and stared at a vase of two dozen fully bloomed pink roses. Namir looked at her sharply as he pulled out a pink envelope that was nestled within the greenery and roses. With caution he opened the envelope and pulled out a card. It was child’s card with a cartoon kitten holding a red balloon. The greeting said, “Because you’re so special”. He opened the card and a picture of Taylor fell out. It was a fuzzy shot of her walking out of her front door. Written in red sharpie on the inside of the card were the words, “I see you”.
Taylor looked up at Namir with huge tear rimmed eyes. Her voice shook as she spoke. “Do whatever needs to be done here. I won’t complain…I promise.”
Namir nodded thinking that she looked just like a frightened child.
A figure dropped to the ground from the thick tree limb he had been perched on. He landing with grace directly in the spot his scent had ended for Namir. He allowed his eyes to slowly scan the woods, his ears on high alert. The only sounds were animals scurrying about, and bugs calling to each other. He frowned and took a step towards the tree line. He could see light flooding the back patio. The flowers were gone. He indulged in a small smile over that, but it didn’t soothe the emotions that were caused by the realization that Taylor’s new bodyguard was a Werewolf.
“Have you given any interviews where you stated that your favorite color is pink and your favorite flower is the rose?”
Taylor shook her head.
“What about new friends on Facebook or Twitter?”
Taylor looked at the policeman as if he were the dumbest person on earth.
“I have over a hundred and eighty thousand Twitter followers. I have over a hundred thousand on Facebook. I don’t even manage those accounts!”
“So, who does?”
“My manager Jason.”
The policeman, Officer James, flipped his notebook shut. “I would advise you shut those accounts down.”
Taylor nodded her consent, but Constantine flew off of her seat like a startled bird. “Absolutely not! She needs those accounts for her fans! It keeps her in the public eye!”
Namir bristled. “She’ll close the accounts.” His eyes met Constantine’s, and he silently dared her to speak again. A strange look came over her face, and she sat without another word.
A crime scene technician came into the living room, shaking her head. “Whomever it was took precautions. I can’t get even a partial print.”
“We have photographs, but I would advise that you keep the vase and note.” Officer James instructed Taylor. “We would also advise you to limit how many new people are allowed in or around your house.” The officer stared straight at Namir.
Once the police had gone, Taylor sat at the dining room table chewing on her finger nails.
“For God’s sake stop that, Taylor!” Constantine said and pulled Taylor’s hand from her lips. She threw her hand down in disgust. “Now we’ll have to go to Mimi’s for manicures.”
“You weren’t biting your nails.” Taylor responded with far less gusto than she would have liked.
Constantine left the room in a huff. Namir sat at the table with Taylor, thanking Greta as she laid his leftovers in front of him.
“I think your idea of a dog is a good.”
“I just wanted to rile my mother.” She responded weakly. “She hates animals.”
Namir stuck a piece of steak in his mouth and talked around it. “It’s still a good idea.”
“That’s disgusting.” Taylor said with a grimace.
“Eating meat?”
“No talking with your mouth full.”
Namir swallowed. “I thought it was the meat.” He said with a shrug. “Since you seem to really like to eat…well…nothing.”
“I have to stay thin!” She said with more bitterness than she intended.
Namir studied her, bouncing his fork lightly over his plate. She was thin, but not the rail thin flat look that most super models had. She was curvy and just over 5’5”, making her short for a model. He’d only known her for a day and a half, but he felt like she was an unhappy woman. It was almost like she was still a kid.
“Tell you what,” Namir said, and pushed his plate away. “Let’s go out for a little bit.”
“What? Why?”
He stood and took his dishes to the kitchen, feeling a little guilty for wasting what was left. Greta took the plate, but didn’t scold. When he came back, Taylor was standing by the table fretting with the hem of her sweater.
“Ready?”
“I have a car in the garage.” She said. Her body language told Namir that there was something more to it. She turned one foot in and actually looked away, her brow slightly puckered.
“Alright. Is there something wrong with the car?”
Her eyes widened. “No! It’s a perfectly fine car, an Audi to be exact!”
“Ok…” Namir was at a loss.
Taylor rubbed her jaw, her voice low. “I can’t…drive.”
Namir’s head moved backwards slightly. “Oh. Well, I can.” He held out his hand. “Can I have the keys?”
Taylor raced out of the room and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She returned with a little purse that looked like a denim backpack. She handed him the keys.
Florescent lights lit up one by one. As each one came to life in an orderly fashion, Namir’s wonder increased
. He saw a black two door Audi TT, which caused his salivary glands to engage. The other car was a sleek burgundy Lincoln MKZ. Namir knew cars, and he loved them. He placed a hand on his buzzed head and blew air from his puffed out cheeks.
“Which one is yours?”
“The Audi…I already told you that.”
“Oh yeah.” He said, still feeling dazed.
The car still had its new car smell. The interior was black leather. Taylor must have paid a mint for all of the extras the car had. He couldn’t resist asking.
“Why do you have a car if you can’t drive?”
“I just wanted it. I had planned on getting my license, but I was just so busy. Mother thinks that we should just have a driver take us places. Of course she didn’t hesitate to get a new car as soon as I got one. She can drive, of course.”
Namir reached up and hit the button for the automatic garage opener, and started the car. It roared to life then hummed. It was a beautiful sound. The radio began blaring dup-step. He turned it down a few notches.
“Skrillex, huh?”
“It’s impressive that you know that.” Taylor said. “I come out here sometimes and just listen to music. Mother hates what I listen to, so she usually leaves me alone.”
Taylor’s cell phone began chirping. She frowned and swiped her finger across the screen, throwing it into her bag.
“Constantine?”
“You know it. Quick! Let’s go before she comes out here!” She giggled.
Namir grinned and put the car in drive. He wasn’t sure if he could find what he was looking for, but having a chance to drive that car was well worth it the trip.
An hour later, they pulled into a shopping center that was still lit up and shoppers were wandering in and out of stores. Namir spotted what he was looking for at the end of the center: an ice cream shop.
The drive there had been almost entirely silent. Each one in their own world, listening to music and just enjoying being out.
BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) Page 39
