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“I should go,” I say and with a quick smile, I turn away.
I’ve taken three steps towards the plane when I hear, “Laina, wait.”
I whip around to find Everett with his hands shoved in his coat pockets, his overcoat blowing in the wind, studying the tops of his black dress shoes.
“Come here,” he says. He looks nervous and worried and it’s making me nervous on his behalf. I cross back to him, coming closer so I have a chance of hearing him.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I didn’t want to tell you before you left, but now I feel like I have to.”
“Are you okay?” I ask, immediately fearing the worst. If he says he has a terminal disease, I’m going to collapse right here on the tarmac. If he needs a kidney or bone marrow or half a liver, I’m going to be the first on the list to be tested for compatibility.
“My contract is up in a few weeks.”
Thank goodness. Business. I can do business.
“Oh. I didn’t realize that,” I reply. “Do we need to renegotiate terms? I mean, you definitely deserve a raise, you’re one of the most essential people in my life.”
Everett presses a hand over his eyes and takes a shaky breath. He shakes his head, as if the answers to all my questions about him are “No.” When he clears his throat and looks out over my head, he seems distant, far away from this moment.
“I’ve requested a reassignment and Black Swan Protection has informed me it will be an international posting. You’ll be notified of your new security detail before I leave.”
My mouth drops open. He may as well have punched me in the stomach. I’m speechless and frozen in place. I don’t know if I want to cry or get angry.
“Why?” I manage to breathe out, my voice shaking with disappointment, sadness, shock.
Everett stands tall, shoves his hands in his coat, and puts on a mask of disinterest.
“It’s what’s best for me and my career.”
It’s a slap across the face. Three and a half years together, living in the same house, going to the same places, doing everything together, without a hint that he would ever leave.
He’s moving on. For his career.
“Everett….” I don’t know how to finish my sentence. It takes me a minute to find my words again. “You’ve been the most fantastic bodyguard. You’ll still be here when I get back?”
He smiles, but there’s a hint of scoffing as he nods back. There’s something especially wrong with this entire conversation. I wish I had the time to sit here and figure it out, but someone near the plane yells out it’s time to leave.
“You should go,” says Everett. He steps back, leaving me exposed to the cold wind rushing across the tarmac. “It’ll be okay,” he adds with a nod.
“Okay, see you later,” I say in a rush and I speed walk to the stairs.
I think I hear him say, “Be safe, Laina,” but it’s lost in the whirring engines.
CHAPTER 3
The flight is long, and there are a few extra legs of travel to get to the resort that I’m staying at. By the time I let myself into my private villa, I’ve been awake for more hours than I care to count. When I finally flop onto the crisp white sheets covering the king-sized hotel bed, I fall asleep to the faint smell of seawater and the sound of gentle waves.
My first full day in the Maldives mostly consists of fidgeting. Without the usual distractions of my laptop and folders and phone, I’m at a loss for how to fill my time. I swim, order room service, scan the TV channels, find nothing that grips me. My mind just isn’t in relaxation mode, as evidenced by the hotel notepad covered in notes for our next board meeting.
On the second day, I walk around the hotel grounds a little, kill ninety minutes with a massage, and swim some more. The ocean is mostly empty, except for a little white boat that belongs to the resort running a few errands back and forth past my particular cluster of villas. As I dive into the clear water again, my therapist’s one assignment for my trip starts to creep into my mind.
I can hear Tara’s soothing, zen voice in my head.“I want you to write, Laina. For at least three of your vacation days, I want you to get a journal, open up a blank page, and try to unpack the past few years. You’ve been in survival mode for so long, I doubt you’ve processed things well. Let all your emotions come to the surface. Follow whatever comes to mind and write it all down.”
No thanks.
I head to the central resort area for a grueling round of hot yoga, but eventually I reach the end of my distractions. I don’t break out my journal just yet, but I take a long walk towards yet another beach and decide to mentally rehash something not quite as delicate as my family - my love life. It’s not my main assignment, but it’s what comes to mind. Especially with the thought of Everett’s imminent departure.
