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“You can’t always believe everything you read.”
“The proof is in the pudding.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means maybe the tabloids don’t know the whole story and they spin things to meet their own narrative, but the pictures don’t lie. The countless women don’t lie. But hey, no shame in being who you are, right? I just don’t want you to think I’m the kind of woman you’re going to drag into whatever shenanigans you’re trying to pull.”
“Do you always judge people so harshly before you know them?” He crosses his arms in front of himself, his head cocked to one side like he’s trying to decide ifhewants to go through with this.
“Only people I feel deserve it.”
“So you’ve made up your mind and that’s it?”
“Pretty much.” I rock back on my heels. “So, should we just call it a night? I get my money. You get your house. And the two of us go our separate ways?” I ask hopefully.
“If you think I’m that easily put off, you clearly don’t know me nearly as well as you think. Now, Ms. Hamilton, shall we?” He offers me his arm.
I let out an audible sigh. “You’re not going to let me out of this, are you?”
“Not a chance.” He grins, picking up my arm and looping it through his when I make no move to take the arm he’s offered. “Besides, I think I might surprise you.” He tugs on my arm, guiding me down the sidewalk.
“Doubtful,” I grumble under my breath, though I’m not surprised when he catches it. If anything, he’s very observant, that much I will give him.
We only walk about a block before I realize there’s someone following us. I keep catching sight of him every time I glance behind me, which I do often because as a single woman in L.A., you learn to pay attention to your surroundings.
“Um, I think there’s someone following us,” I mutter softly to Treyton as we turn a corner and continue on up the sidewalk, which I can’t help but notice is rather vacant for this time of day.
“Let me guess, white dude. About six foot. Dark glasses and gray t-shirt.”
“You saw him too?”
“Every day for the last five years.” His eyes turn sideways to meet mine. “That’s my bodyguard, Luke.”
“Oh.”
“Micah is at the next intersection, keeping things clear for us.”
“Right.” I swallow hard. Guess that explains the lack of people.
He smiles, turning his attention forward.
Bodyguard. Or rather,bodyguards… of course he has bodyguards. I just never really thought about it before now.
I guess it really drives home what I already knew the moment the elevator slid open and Treyton was standing on the other side…I’m in way over my head.
