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“It’s a problem.”
“Get a security system.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “I have one. Sarah got the code from some website.”
“So, you do know her.” She’d never had the opportunity to protect anyone like a rock star, but she knew they had reputations. A girl or ten at every venue wasn’t uncommon. Her brothers had worked for many musicians, mafia dons, and movie stars. She always got the babysitting duty. Not cute infants like her niece but entitled teens, tweens, and college-age beauty queens. They gave her jobs like getting high-profile kids to college or spring break details which made her the big meanie when she wouldn’t let them drink until their livers exploded or have orgies in their presidential suites that daddy or mommy paid for.
“I don’t remember her.”
“That makes you an asshole.” His voice might be sexy, and his body a wonder to behold, but his attitude toward women was a character defect, and she didn’t do assholes. That made this the perfect job for her. It was a job where she could prove herself once and for all to Val and show him that his trust was not misplaced. She could do anything her brothers could. Besides, Red had fan trouble because he hadn’t established the rules. That was one of her strengths. All it would take was tweaking his current security protocol, getting a new system, and training his overzealous fans. That was something she could do with her eyes closed.
“I charge a hundred dollars an hour.”
He seemed to shudder for a second. “That’s twenty-four hundred a day.”
“Do you think you’ll need around-the-clock protection? It’s not like someone has threatened your life. You’ve got a security breach that is easy to fix. Let’s start there and see what happens.”
“Okay, who will you send?”
Vivian smiled, feeling more confident with every passing moment. “You get me. Just tell me where and when to meet you later today.”
“You? I’m not sure you can handle this job.”
Vivian felt a flash of irritation at his comment. “Really? Depends on what you think the job is. I can handle fists and guns as well as anyone, but they are of little use in private protection. Fists and guns are the last line of defense. A strong security protocol means we rarely or never have to use them. I can handle anything you throw at me, but it seems to me you’re doubting my ability to protect you.”
“I’m sure you’re really great at what you specialize in, but…”
She laughed and then smiled. “I get it. You need proof that I can deliver on the fists. How about this. Let’s arm wrestle.”
“You think you can beat me?” He raised his arm and flexed.
“I don’t know but we’ll soon find out. If I win, you hire me for the job. If you win, I’ll help you find someone else.”
Red raised an eyebrow, seeming amused. “You’re on. But I should warn you, years of playing the bass have built up these guns.” He flexed them again as if that would intimidate or change her mind.
Vivian grinned, feeling a sense of excitement. “I’m not afraid of competition.” The adrenaline pumped through her veins. They locked hands and counted down from three, each straining against the other’s grip.
Despite his impressive biceps, Red’s face contorted with effort as Vivian held her own. She’d been arm-wrestling her brothers her whole life and knew all the tricks, from body alignment to that slight bend of her wrist that puts an opponent at a disadvantage. Slowly but surely, she gained the upper hand, and in a sudden burst of strength, Viv slammed Red’s hand onto the table, grinning triumphantly. “Looks like I got the job,” she said, feeling satisfied.
Red chuckled, seeming impressed. “I guess you do. I must admit, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Don’t let the package fool ya. Didn’t you hear me say I was a ninja?”
Red nodded, seeming to take her seriously now. “Alright. I’ll send you the details of where and when to meet me later.” Red rose and walked out the door.
A few moments later, her brother walked into the kitchen. “Finally gave him the boot?”
“No, he’s my next client.”
Val’s face turned radish red. “I told you, he’s an ass—”
“Yep, he is. That seems to be the case for many of our clients. I don’t care about their attitude. I only care about the job.”
“You can’t do this job.”
Vivian bristled at her brother’s words. “Excuse me? Who’s in charge of Vortex now? Can’t do the job? I expect that from asshole strangers, but you?”
Val looked at her sternly. “I am still your older brother, Viv, and I’m telling you, you can’t take this job. You’re not ready for it.”
