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“They just want me undercover to accompany some rich dude who needs protection on the cruise.”
“Why does he need protection? Is he too old to look after himself?”
“Ahh… they think he’s vulnerable to female advances and they want to keep him out of the wrong hands.”
“So, he’s just a geriatric wandering playboy. The job’s not dangerous?”
“Hell, no. I’ll be bored to death. I’d rather be forced to take on office detail, and you know how much I hate that.”
“If your whining every day for a fortnight to heal the gunshot wound before you were re-assigned is any indication, then oh yeah, you hated it all right.”
“Not funny, sis.”
“It’s not meant to be funny. You seem happiest when you’re kicking the shit out of some poor loser. Who knew you had it in you?”
“Had what in me?”
“That mean streak that appears whenever anyone gets in your way.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about. I feel sorry for the criminals who have to face you.”
“Ha! Ha! Very funny. I learned how to fight with the best of the best. And I did that so in moments when I have to rely on me, I won’t let myself down. I’ve explained that before.”
“Calm down, little fighter. I’ve seen you in action and you’re brutal. Pure meanness – fists, feet, body slams, you name it.” Shaking her head, Mari let out a loud sigh, purposely making Rylee laugh. “In case you’ve wondered why I always give in to you, it’s because you scare the crap outta me.”
Scoffing, her voice filled with disbelief, Rylee answered, “The only thing that scares you is getting a broken fingernail or having your mascara smudge.”
“Which reminds me; I’ll expect you at the shop bright and early tomorrow to get fitted for your new sailing wardrobe.”
Oh, Lord! Just shoot me now!
***
By the time Mari had finished with her, Rylee was ready to punch the next person who got in her way. Who knew that an upsweep of hair could take so long, or that a manicure could be so detailed? And who cared what color the pale pink nail polish was? Cream of the Crop? Rosy Quartz? Pale Silk?Sweet Jesus! Give me a break!
Mari and her girl at the shop were like two busy little hens fussing and quibbling, until Rylee’s frustration peaked, and her voice rose a couple of octaves.
By then, Mari was satisfied with the new clothes they’d chosen and had taken videos of how Rylee could fix her hair when she was alone and the steps to redo her make-up.
After they were finished with their Cinderella treatment, even Rylee had to admit that she’d never recognized her potential. How beautiful she could look if she had ever wanted to be this girl. WOW! The moment was surreal in a way. Mari had always told her she was a knockout, and all it would take was some care and treatments to showcase her God-given attributes.
Turns out, Mari had been right all along. Secretly checking herself out in the mirror after they’d finally given her some space and left the changing room, she reviewed the many changes.
Her auburn hair had been long, due to the fact that she hated hairdressers and put off going for haircuts until she couldn’t stand the mess any longer. Now it had been swept up in a very sophisticated style that kind of suited her face, not that she’d admit Mari had been right about the design choice.
And of the many outfits her sister had thrown her way to try on, she’d hit on the right look. Only one item – a red silk sheath that slid on like a second skin, left her bare shoulders glowing, a slit up one leg and the back too naked – didn’t make the cut. She’d thrown that beauty off to the “nope” pile with the understanding that she’d never have the guts to pull it off. But the rest of her sister’s choices would work and so would her sister’s shoes she’d added to the collection.
They were high heels, more like stilts, the type she never wore but she understood there would most likely be times when she’d have to appear as a ritzy chick and so she allowed them to get put with the “yep” stuff.
By the time they were finished fussing, her need to leave had ramped up to fantasizing an escape plan featuring a shootout.
On her way home with two full suitcases, racing toward her bottle of headache pills and at least three Guinness, she revisited her long, painful, tongue-biting day.
Who knew being a starlet could be so exhausting and the choices so darn silly? Didn’t these women realize there were so-called normal people out there, everyone with a sad story and lives full of bills, kids, mortgages and health problems that could drive them to breaking the law in so many ridiculous ways?
Mari, her blonde-haired sisterly nursemaid, lived in a lovely rose-colored bubble. Mind you, she had to admit to being glad that her sister didn’t witness the crap every day that Rylee lived with in her world.
As she always did, she pushed away the reason she’d ended up taking this direction and instead concentrated on why she’d chosen the law profession. Knowing firsthand how important it is for people to feel safe and protected, she swore as a young girl she would be that protector.
Of course, if the truth were known, she just never, ever wanted to be the helpless victim again. And she never would be. After all the training she’d taken, from that day until now, she’d found that not only did she love the rush when it came to a battle, she was damn good at hand-to-hand combat. It had kept her alive many times.
Then she remembered her foreseeable future. It was almost a certainty that her skills wouldn’t be needed on a luxury cruise liner. Damn, she’d miss the action.
