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“Oh, I see how it is. Trying to impress the dietitian.” Violet sets the butterscotch cakes back on the shelf and tosses the chocolate in the cart. “Manuel, why don’t you be a dear and walk down the other aisle? You can meet us at the end. I just want to gossip with Luna without you hovering.”
The bodyguard doesn’t glance at her, gaze scanning the store. “No.”
Violet keeps a positive expression on her face even as I watch a muscle in her jaw tick. “And why not?”
“My job is to protect you. I need to see you to protect you.”
“But I’m with Luna. My self-defense expert.” Flipping her fake brown hair over her shoulder, she affects a stage whisper. “She’s got a gun, you know?” Violet gives him an exaggerated wink.
I can hear the strain of him trying not to roll his eyes. “I know.”
Good. Any decent security should be able to clock a holster, despite the weapon hiding under my jacket.
“Well then, I think she’s perfectly capable of protecting me for one aisle. Besides, it’s the feminine product aisle. I’m sure you don’t want to be there for that. You know, uterus, fallopian tubes, ovaries, periods. So gross.”
His stony face doesn’t change as he speaks. “I don’t care how heavy your flow is.”
Good thing I’m not expected to remain stoic, because that has me snorting.
Violet gasps, then glares in her best attempt at fierceness. “You know nothing about my menstruation, Manuel!”
Again, I give the guy credit for not cracking.
My client turns back to me. “Are you still in the ooey-gooey honeymoon phase where you can’t be separated from your man for more than a few minutes?”
“I don’t think I was ever in that phase.” I do my best to affect the same emotionless tone Manuel used, but Violet merely shakes her head at me.
“Well, that’s a bummer. You should work on that. Still, yay for me! Because I want you to come over tomorrow night. Just to hang out. As friends.”
My mind stutters over the request. “What?”
“I swear this isn’t because I don’t want to pay you for your expertise. If we end up talking about nutrition or self-defense, I’ll start the clock. But I’m thinking more of a wine and gossip situation. Please? You can say no. I know I’m a little much. That’s why Manuel won’t hug me.”
“I…” Normally I’m quicker than this. But I’ve never been invited to hang out by a client before. Sure, I’ve been gifted backstage passes or told my name is on a list at a hot new club. But those were more bonus gifts meant for me to use at my own discretion.
This is friendship.
And that’s a strange sensation.
Still, if I’ve learned one thing about Violet, it’s that she’s one hundred percent sincere. Almost to a fault. Which means, this invite is real.
“Yes. I…yes, I would like that.”
“Ooh, I want to hug you again. But I won’t.” She marches into the aisle, tossing some tampon boxes into the cart. “Now to the wine! I can have that, right? If you tell me no, I’m going to be such a bitch.”
“In moderation,” I answer in a daze.
“That’s not in her vocabulary,” I swear I hear Manuel mutter as he passes by me, following his bubbly employer.
ChapterTwenty
LUNA
“How does someone become a self-defense dietitian?” Charlie’s question comes with genuine curiosity in his voice, so I don’t immediately put my shields up. When I’ve stated my job title in the past, people have looked at me like I declared I wanted to be mayor of the moon.
Self-defense dietitian isn’t that weird of a word combination.
Okay, maybe it is, but people could still give me the benefit of the doubt.
