Page 153 of The Heart You Kept

“Agree.” Thomas holds his two hands up. “Wholeheartedly.”

“I like you, Thomas.” Helene smiles. “How much do you charge a night?”

“I don’t know, five to ten thousand. Sometimes fifty.”

“Fifty thousand dollars.” We both gasp.

“I’m worth every pretty penny, ladies.” He flicks his hair like Fabio. “But don’t get any ideas, I don’t work for friends. It would be weird to go to work and then rock up to lunch the next day as if nothing happened.”

We giggle as we imagine the scenario.

“Can we go out on Saturday night?” Helene asks. “I need to get messy.”

“Messy.” I wince. “What does that even mean? It’s giving me bad visuals of genitals or something.”

“Eww.”

“Well, I can go, but Alora might be in the Bahamas by then being wooed by her thug boyfriend.”

“Who hasn’t called me.” Although I secretly hope I am in the Bahamas. “Do you think I should go to the hospital and check on Pascal?”

“No,” they both snap. “He was tracking you, Alora, you should be going to the police.”

“We don’t know it was actually him or that it was even sinister.”

“Yes. We do. You don’t track someone and follow them to Paris.”

“But he is harmless. I know him. He’s got a good heart, he would never hurt me.”

“No. I’m with Prescott on this.” Thomas sighs. “You stay away from him.”

“Are we going?” I grab my bag and my jacket. “I’ve come straight from work and I’ve got crap to do at home.” We pay our bill and walk through the front doors out onto the footpath and there, standing beside the door, are Philippe and another man in a black suit.

“What are you doing here?” I frown.

“Mr. Prescott has assigned us to you.”

“For what?”

“Protection.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“That’s actually a good idea,” Thomas interrupts. “She does, thank you.”

“He’s in the hospital half dead,” I stammer. “I’m pretty sure I’m safe.”

A trace of a smile crosses Philippe’s face.

“Who did that to Pascal?” I ask him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, straight-faced.

“Of course you don’t.” I turn to look at the other guard. “And what is your name?”

“Stefan.” He smiles. “Nice to meet you, Miss Sorenson.”

“Well, the pleasure is all yours, because no offense, but I don’t want you guys following me around.”