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At the moment though, I just wanted to enjoy the last few years of my early twenties before I had to worry about buying a house, having kids, or any of the burdens that would come with either. And by fun, I meant luxury travel. partying, sightseeing…
And sex. Not necessarily lots of it. Just good sex from a man who knows what he’s doing, not like the small handful I’d experienced casually at college, small being the operative word…
“Deal?” Dad barked, bringing me out of my daydream.
This is it, then. Time to concede defeat on favorable terms. “Okay, Daddy. If it really means that much to you, I’ll let you hire someone to look after me. As long as they don’t get in the way, cramp my style, or cockblock me.” Dad winced, making me regret my choice of words. “Well, you know what I mean. I am 22 now, you know.”
“I know. Anyway, here’s what I can tell you.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “You know I manage the software development of part of the company, right? A position I was given when I returned to work, after your mom passed away. Let’s just say that I manage the development of software that either helps kill people or helps to stop people from being killed. And not just for companies, but for armed forces and governments too. And there’s lots of nasty bastards out there who would do anything to get their hands on it.”
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant for a second. He rarely spoke about Mom. She had died after a brave but short battle with an aggressive form of cancer when I was three. Dad later told me that he had sold the majority of his company at the time of her diagnosis, so he could be there to support her and look after me. I could tell that he still wasn’t over her death and would probably never be. And the loss made him even more protective of me, which was touching but could be very smothering at times.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I’ve already told you more than I’ve ever told anyone outside of work about what I do. But hopefully you understand that I’m not just being an overprotective old bastard. I want you to have fun and do your own thing, but I want someone there…just in case, ya know?”
“I know,” I said as sympathetically as I could manage, even as the excitement started to build up. After almost two years of planning and re-planning, chatting about the details with friends, and a week of arguing with my dad, I was finally going travelling! And with Dad covering my expenses, travel, and hotel, I’d be travelling in sublime style and luxury. None of that slumming it with dirty backpackers, getting fleas or crabs or whatever you’d get living in a hostel, or sleeping with unwashed
travelers.
For me, it would be first-class or business-class, the best hotels, and nicest restaurants. Not to mention clean, wealthy, handsome, and hopefully well-endowed men.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Chapter Two
Cruz
I looked up from my whiskey glass, my cold blue eyes fixing the older businessman sitting opposite of me with an intent stare. “How much?” I said in a soft but deep monotone.
“You heard me. Listen, I’ve had a look at your previous work and spoken to your…references. I know this isn’t the type of contract you usually take. And I may be being damned paranoid, but I can’t shake the feeling that the risk is greater than you or anyone else suspects.”
“Right. So, this isn’t simple babysitting, knocking some sense into some over-friendly jocks. I know, Andrew.” As I spoke, I saw my potential future employer flinch.
“How the fuck?” The older man leaned forward, his hand reaching for the panic button under his desk. “I never told you my name, did I?”
I leaned back, trying to relax my muscular frame into as non-intimidating of a position as possible for someone standing 6’ 5” and weighing 260 lbs. “You don’t need to press that. I’m on your side. Plus, your name is on that certificate over there.” I gestured with my glass towards the faded yellowing certificate on the far wall a good ten feet away.
If I was being completely honest—which I never was, especially when trying to impress or intimidate—my eyes weren’t that good. I’d heard of the heat this guy was facing through some old mob contacts. The sort of contacts you needed when you were an ex-vigilante slash criminal-turned-gun for hire, mercenary, bodyguard—hell, I’d do a fucking dog protection service if the money was right.
I had even managed to find out his address, name, and a good idea of what his pretty daughter looked like from squinting at her almost-private social media pages. From what I could see, she was about an eight. Maybe a nine after a few drinks. I had fleetingly found myself wishing I was a few years younger, but immediately stopped those thoughts right in their tracks. I knew what happed when I got involved with women—trouble. So, I vowed to keep this one strictly professional. Besides, I knew this man’s daughter was probably way out of my league.
“Truth is, Andrew, I’m good. I’m really fucking good. That’s why I’m expensive, right?” I took another gulp of whiskey.
Jesus, this is nice stuff. If this is what he keeps in his office to offer to muscled scarred thugs, I wonder what he keeps in his private collection? Probably fucking gold plated bottles, I thought.
I leaned forward on my elbows, my t-shirt barely managing to contain my bulging biceps and chest muscles. I raised my left eyebrow, knowing it would accentuate the scar running along it. I knew I looked mean and hard as fucking nails. “I know the heat you been gettin’. I know the type of hardcore criminals who want in on what you develop. And these guys don’t fuck around. Good thing is, neither do I. I shoot first and ask questions later. And I ain’t bad in a fistfight either. And when I say I ain’t bad, I mean I ain’t never found no one who can beat me.”
I drained my whiskey and Andrew poured me another, his gaze not lifting from my face. I had his full attention and knew he was either impressed, intimidated, or slightly jealous. Probably all three.
“Thanks,” I said, raising the glass. “Last one for me. If I drink more than three, bad shit seems to happen, even if I ain’t looking for it!”
I took a smaller gulp and continued my sales pitch, not that it was needed. I just enjoyed attention— especially the kind this guy’s dolled-up secretary with the nice butt and tight top had given me in the waiting room. I wasn’t looking at her, but I knew she kept looking at me.
“So, let me backtrack some,” I continued. “I took the liberty of doing some research and called in some favors. I’m a step ahead of these bad guys. And let me tell you, nine out of ten of them won’t even come close ‘cause I still got favors I ain’t called in yet. I helped a lot of people out in the past, see?” I winked. “And I’ve done this shit before, tangled with the sort of bad dudes breathing down your neck. And I won.”
Andrew averted his gaze, composing himself. “Very impressive,” he muttered.
Yet, my charm hadn’t worked for long. He sat back up straight, resuming his businesslike demeanor more quickly than I’d expected; he was tougher than he looked. But then again, you’d have to be to sit in an office all day, year after year.
“Like I said earlier,” he continued, “I did my research too. Not, uh, in the same way as you, but still. I thought you were good before you walked in here. Now I know you’re the man for the job.”
