She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and I curse myself that I’ve reminded her about him again. But she says, “Did you learn all this in the army?”
“Some.”
“What job did you do?”
“I was a sniper.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I was trained in observation and situational awareness, threat assessment, and route planning. I learned to operate under pressure, and protect my teammates.” My lips twist, memories hovering like the clouds on the horizon. “Or not,” I mumble.
I wonder whether she’s going to press me for more details. She waits a moment, then says, “What about when you came out of the army?”
“I did a close protection course. In the army you protect a unit, but as a CPO you protect one person, and usually the threats are very different. I learned about VIP protection. How to protect principals in urban environments. Threat and risk assessment, that kind of thing. I did a couple of lower-risk jobs and shadowed a couple of experienced CPOs. Then Marcus approached me. He had Ella train me for a while in company procedures. She nearly failed me.”
Her jaw drops. “Why?”
“Because I walked half a pace too far behind the principal.”
“She failed you for that?”
“It meant I couldn’t reach them quickly enough.”
“What happened?”
“She made me do it again.”
“Wow. I’m guessing it’s a lot less glamorous than it sounds. Lots of hanging around.”
“And troublesome principals.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry I was such a hassle.”
“I’m teasing. Of all the billionaire princesses I’ve had to protect, you’re my favorite.”
She pushes me again. I’m beginning to like that.
“At least you haven’t had to leap in front of a bullet for me,” she says.
“Yeah. The army taught me how to spot danger. The close protection course taught me that people don’t always need someone to fight for them. Sometimes they just need someone to get them safely home.”
“Mm. What do you think is the most important thing you’ve learned, doing the job?”
It’s an interesting question, and I think about it for a moment. “That protecting someone also means respecting their choices, listening to them, and trusting them. I didn’t get that, at the beginning.”
We’re approaching the villa, and she lifts her sunglasses on top of her head and looks at me. “Glad I could teach you something,” she says cheekily.
“I just hope my next principal is a middle-aged accountant called Bruce.”
Aurelia laughs. “Bruce?”
“Yeah. He’s married. Has three kids. Is always home by six. Likes painting toy airplanes.” I gesture for her to climb the steps in front of me.
She snorts. “You’d be bored stiff.”
“Exactly. Sounds like the perfect job.” I grin as I unlock the sliding doors, and go to walk forward, then bump into her as she does the same.
“Ladies first,” she scolds.
