Fox Dish (Madison Wolves #6)

by Robin Roseau

  "Greg, you aren't going to make me do something I find distasteful, are you?"

  "No. But the client is a little high strung."

  "I'll be polite," I replied.

  I went back to my room, cleaned up, and found a clean set of clothes. I arrived at Greg's office a few minutes short of three. The door was open.

  "Good," he said. "Come with me."

  Greg led the way out of his office, down the hall, and to a conference room. When he arrived, Donna was there with several other humans. I was the only were in the room. One of the humans was a small woman, although several inches taller than I am. She was dressed simply, but her clothes were expensive, and she was quite attractive, with a fit figure and stylish hairstyle.

  Donna introduced Greg to Suzanne Waters. She didn't introduce me. Greg, Donna and Suzanne sat down. Greg gestured, and I took a place behind and to his right. The three other humans took places around the room. I decided they must be bodyguards. Greg ignored them, but I kept an eye on them.

  They watched Greg. They paid no attention to me. The woman did, taking glances at me periodically. She caught me studying her and smiled a warm, friendly smile.

  "Suzanne," Greg said. "You wish to visit Washington DC. You wish to travel without attracting the sort of attention you usually receive. You wish a bodyguard that will not stand out as a bodyguard. Have I summarized?"

  "Yes," she said. "Your previous guards have been quite adequate, if intimidating. They don't have a clue how to blend."

  I knew what my mission was to be.

  "So you wish someone less..."

  "Big," Suzanne said.

  "You wish someone who may appear to be something other than what she is."

  "Yes." Suzanne looked at me. "Her?"

  "Michaela Burns," Greg said. "Suzanne Waters."

  I stepped forward and shook hands with her. Her grip lingered, and she ran the fingers of her left hand up the skin of my wrist, stopping when she encountered the wrist sheaths with my knives.

  "What is this?" she asked. "Some sort of brace." But she was smiling, and she hadn't released my hand.

  "No, ma'am," I said. Greg could explain if he wanted to.

  One of the men scoffed. All three looked at me dismissively. The one who scoffed said, "The studio won't allow this."

  "It is not the studio's decision," Suzanne replied.

  "Studio?"

  "Suzanne's stage name is Suzette," Greg explained. I hadn't heard of her, but I wasn't up on the latest pop culture.

  "Perhaps you've seen my latest movie," Suzanne said. "Dust and Blood?"

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't get out much."

  She studied me. I finally pulled my hand away from her. She frowned. "You really don't have the vaguest idea who I am?"

  "I am sorry," I said. "Is that a prerequisite for the position?"

  She smiled. "No."

  "Being able to protect her is," the scoffer said.

  I eyed him, then dismissed him. He was big, but he was only human.

  "Perhaps a demonstration is in order," Greg suggested. I sighed. "Michaela, protect Suzanne."

  Greg nodded, and the three men rushed towards Suzanne. I yanked her behind me, meeting the first one as he rushed towards us. I ducked under him then threw him over my hip. He flew across me and took down the second man.

  The third pulled a gun and began to level it towards me.

  I blocked his gun towards the ceiling; it wouldn't due to duck under it, as Suzanne was behind me. I hammered his solar plexus twice, then jabbed my fingers into a bundle of nerves in his right shoulder before taking the gun away from him. I ejected the clip to the floor, worked the slide to eject any round in the magazine, and dropped everything to the ground.

  I kept track of Greg and Donna. Donna reached into her jacket, and I was immediately in front of her. I dashed my hand inside her jacket, withdrew the gun she was about to pull, and dropped it to the ground behind me. Then I pulled a punch to her throat and pushed her backwards where she tumbled onto the table.

  Then I worked the men over.

  "Michaela," Greg said, and I froze, backing away.

  The men slowly climbed to their feet, watching me warily. I retrieved Donna's gun, helped her to her feet, and handed it back to her.

  "Sorry about that," I told her.

  "Why didn't you kill her?" Greg asked.

  "She might not have been threatening Suzanne," I said. "What if she were a cop, trying to help?"

  "Any questions, gentlemen?" Greg asked. He was smiling.

  They each eyed me warily but stayed well away from me. Still, I kept myself between Suzanne and any threats. She crowded behind me, not quite touching.

  "Suzanne?" Greg asked.

  "What's your name again?" Suzanne asked.

  "Stand down, Michaela," Greg told me.

  I relaxed the tension in my body, calmed my breathing, and then turned around to face her. "Michaela, ma'am," I said.

  There was a scuffing sound behind me. I spun, catching a knife one of the guys had thrown at me. I eyed the knife. It was fine craftsmanship. "Thank you for the gift," I said. "I'll add it to my collection."

  "Shit," one of the men said. "She's fast." He looked at me. "May I have that back?"

  "Suzanne?" Greg asked again.

  I didn't turn around this time, not even to glance at Suzanne when she put a hand on my arm.

  "She'll do," Suzanne said.

  "Very good," Greg said.

  "Michaela," Donna said. "I will meet you in your room in thirty minutes."

  "Yes, ma'am," I told her. I took another look at the knife. It was heavier than I cared for. I tossed it dismissively on the table and headed for my quarters.

  * * * *

  Donna took me clothes shopping in Boulder. She bought me a variety of outfits, each designed for different situations. "You will be expected to blend," she said.

  "What does that mean?" I asked.

  "Look like her companion, not her bodyguard."

  In two brisk hours, I acquired a fresh wardrobe. I missed my wardrobe from home.

  I missed Lara, Celeste, and Rebecca.

  Donna returned me to my quarters shortly before dinner. Greg stopped by my quarters after dinner. He stayed for twenty minutes, giving me more information I would need.

  "She's contracting you for a week," he said. "She may extend that." He handed me an envelope. "Two new credit cards. You probably won't need them. Suzanne's primary bodyguards will be on loose duty, covering the locations you visit, but not hovering too closely. You will stay plastered to her side."

  "What if she chooses to dance or something like that?"

  "Stay as close as you can without looking obvious," Greg replied.

  "Fine," I said.

  "Sometimes celebrities like her have stalkers. We dealt with her most recent stalker, so you shouldn't need to worry about that. Your biggest threat will be overenthusiastic fans. Try not to rough them up. That tends to lead to annoying lawsuits."

  "Greg, I haven't had any training in this. I could protect her against real threats better than fake ones."

  "You are a natural diplomat, Michaela," he said. "I have complete faith in you.

  We left the next morning.

  Capital City

  We flew by private charter, of course. Suzanne's studio guards handled most of the arrangements, and they seemed professional enough about it. I did what Greg said. I plastered myself by her side and tried to give the appearance of being her friend. I smiled at her, chatted amiably, and never stopped using my ears or eyes to scan for threats.

  Suzanne used a limousine service for transportation around the DC area. They met us near the side of the plane. The bodyguards searched the limo, then I checked it myself. We checked in to the hotel and promptly left for lunch, Suzanne barely taking a moment to touch up her appearance.

  I had learned the three human males were Evan, Frank and Paul. Paul seemed to be the senior of the three. We left Evan and Frank to
secure the hotel.

  In the car I asked her, "Why don't you travel with a retinue? Isn't that what most stars do?"

  "This isn't enough?" she asked, gesturing between Paul and me.

  "I guess I don't know how these normally work. This is my first time guarding a major celebrity."

  "Well, you're probably right. My costars always seem to have no end of people hovering around. I don't care for that. I love acting. I love being in the movies. I love the things my success brings. I don't like being a celebrity."

  "You had to expect it before I got into it."

  "I didn't realize what it would really be like. Everyone wants something from me. I can't go on a date without wondering if the only reason she said 'yes' is because of who I am. I can't trust anyone pretending to be a friend, because they all want something."

  "What about friends from before you became famous?"

  She looked away. "I spent several years as a raving bitch," she admitted. "I'd like to think I learned some modesty. The initial fame was a heady experience." She looked at me. "You don't seem impressed by me."

  "You're very attractive," I admitted. "But I've never seen any of your movies, and I don't seem to be star struck."

  "You must want something from me. Everyone does."

  "I want you to let me protect you," I said. "I probably won't have to, but if I ever tell you to do something, I want you to do it without asking questions. I want you to trust me to do my job. I won't tell you how to make movies. I expect the same consideration."

  She eyed me carefully. "I almost believe all that," she said.

  I shrugged.

  She didn't want me acting like a bodyguard. She tried to treat me as a girlfriend. It started the moment we pulled up in front of the restaurant. She took my hand.

  I didn't make a scene, but I quietly whispered, "Treat me like a cousin, not a girlfriend. If I need that hand, I don't want to ask permission to use it."

  She released my hand, but she still crowded me.

  In the restaurant, we both sat at the table. Paul waited outside, close if we needed him, but not intruding on Suzanne's lunch.

  "He's never done that before," Suzanne said. "He's always hovered. I think you frightened him."

  "If he wants to meet frightening, he should meet my sister-in-law."

  "You have a brother?"

  "No. My wife's sister."

  She looked away. "Your wife."

  "Yes. We're going through some issues right now. I don't know if they're going to get better or not."

  She perked up. "I understand."

  I ate sparingly. No one bothered us.

  We spent the afternoon touring the monuments. Everything was so different than if Lara and I had been here. If she and I had come, the enforcers would have thoroughly checked every venue before letting us from the car. Paul exited first, but all he did was a quick scan and then stayed relatively nearby. I stayed close to Suzanne and kept an eye on people, but no one paid her much attention.

  While standing in the James Madison Memorial, I quietly asked her, "Are you sure you're all that famous?"

  She laughed. "I'm normally wearing less clothes and more makeup. I can't go outside near home without being recognized, because people are expecting celebrities. But here, no one is particularly looking for me, and there are so many other things to draw their attention. Everyone is looking for a congressman instead."

  I glanced at her. "You definitely don't look like a congressman."

  "Thank you," she said with a smile.

  She was recognized at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I heard her name from behind me and stiffened.

  "You've been recognized," I said.

  "If they make a scene, get me out of here," she said. "If they're polite, I don't mind talking to them."

  I nodded.

  She put her hand on my arm. "You aren't responsible for whether or not people recognize me."

  I nodded again.

  I rotated around so I could keep an eye on her. I found a couple watching us, a man and a woman pushing a stroller. They looked to be in their upper twenties. I identified Paul and gestured for him to come a little closer. He worked his way to us slowly.

  The woman said, "I'm sure it's her."

  "I admit it looks like her," the man said. "But what would she be doing here, and I don't see any bodyguards."

  I turned my back on them and put up a "stop" gesture to Paul. He looked like a bodyguard. I didn't. Then I turned to Suzanne and partially draped myself over her arm. "Don't clasp me," I said. "But look comfortable with the affection."

  "That won't be hard," she said.

  "They aren't sure. Do you want to make their day?"

  She smiled. "Sure."

  I led her closer to the couple, listening to their conversation.

  "It can't be her. What celebrity goes anywhere without a wall of bodyguards?"

  "Hand them your camera and ask them to take a picture of us," I told her.

  She grinned at me. I got us closer, and then we turned to the man. "Would you take our picture?" she asked him, holding out the camera.

  "Sure," the man said.

  Suzanne wrapped an arm around me and smiled. The woman gulped. With or without guards, Suzanne has the smile of a star, and the woman recognized the smile. The man took several photos before handing the camera back.

  "Boy or girl?" Suzanne asked, gesturing to the stroller.

  "A girl," the woman said. "Her name is Daphne."

  "What a beautiful name," Suzanne said. "Could I hold her?"

  "Um." The woman said. "Sure. If you want."

  "Please," Suzanne said. We waited for the woman to pull her baby girl from the stroller and place it carefully in Suzanne's arms. Suzanne held the baby properly. I raised an eyebrow.

  "I have a nephew," she said in explanation. "But I never get to babysit." She looked down at the chubby faced baby.

  Mine were far more beautiful.

  "Maybe you would like some pictures," I suggested. "I could take them." I stepped closer to the woman. "If you say her name too loudly, she'll get swarmed. Please, she just wants a quiet afternoon."

  "Is it really-"

  "Yes."

  "Where are her bodyguards?" the woman asked.

  I smiled sweetly. "Please don't take any pictures of me."

  I took the camera from the man. Suzanne stood between the couple, still holding their baby and looking down. She rotated the child slightly so I could see her face. I took a handful of photos before handing the camera back.

  Suzanne kissed the baby on the forehead before handing it back. "Enjoy your stay," she wished them, and I pulled her away.

  "It was her," the woman said quietly to her husband. "She held our baby! Suzette held our baby and kissed her!"

  "We should maybe get out of here," I said. "I don't know if she's going to get louder or not."

  We made a decorous departure.

  * * * *

  Dinner was a dress up event. I had a little black dress to wear, which Suzanne pulled from the closet and insisted was perfect. "I can't carry my weapons," I told her.

  "You can't carry them tomorrow, anyway," she said. "We're visiting my congresswoman."

  I wore the LBD and felt naked.

  Dinner was quiet. Suzanne looked tired afterwards. I caught her yawning.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "Long day. I wanted to go dancing, too."

  I didn't at all mind that we went straight back to the hotel afterwards.

  It grew awkward from there. Our hotel room was beautiful, but it was still a single bedroom with a single, king-sized bed. Suzanne expected me to share the bed with her. Instead, I slept in the chair.

  It would have been more comfortable if I could have curled up in my fur.

  The next several days went much the same as the first. By and large, Suzanne went unrecognized, but when she was, she was gracious but we beat a hasty retreat.

  I got a call from Greg. "You made Facebook."

&n
bsp; "I made Facebook?" I asked.

  "Well, Suzanne did. You are conspicuously absent."

  "Is she holding a baby?"

  "Yes."

  "I was holding the camera."

  He laughed. We discussed things professionally for a while. Then he asked gently, "How are you doing?"

  "Fine," I said crisply.

  "Michaela, it's me. How are you? Honestly."

  I didn't answer right away. "I want to go home," I said in a small voice. "Is she ever going to forgive me? Will I ever be able to go home?"

  "I don't know, Michaela," he said gently.

  "Should I call her?"

  "Focus on your job there," he said. "She knows how you feel."

  "How does you know that?"

  "Because I told her."

  * * * *

  I was quiet all day. Suzanne noticed and finally dragged me into a coffee shop. "All right," she said. "I've told you everything about me. I want to know about you."

  "I'm your bodyguard, Suzanne," I said. "What else do you need to know?"

  "Well, today you're a downer, and I want to know why."

  I had been scanning the people in the coffee shop. I looked at her for a moment, then went back to doing my job. "I am sorry, Suzanne. I will strive to be more pleasant."

  She didn't say anything but drank from her coffee. I felt her eyes on me. "There's something about you that doesn't make sense," she said. "You are small and beautiful. I love your hair."

  "Thank you," I said.

  "It's very striking. And no way were you ever in the military, not with hair like that."

  "I could have been out for a while," I suggested.

  "Military types always look the same," she said. "And none of them look like you."

  I shrugged.

  "How did you get good enough to beat my guards? They must be twice your size, but you made them look like fools."

  "Maybe I had better training."

  "Maybe Paul is an ex-Navy SEAL," she said. "There isn't any better training."

  "I'm sure that's what he chooses to believe," I replied.

  "Michaela, you will answer my questions."

  "You should have this conversation with Mr. Freund, ma'am," I replied.

  "Do not ma'am me," she said. "I thought we got that out of your system on the first day!"

  I glanced at her. "I have faster than normal reflexes. It comes with my small body; there is less distance for the signals to travel, so I can react faster."