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Not for the first time, I was grateful to Liam. “How long before you give me hell about this later?”
He grinned. “Six months—easy.”
I could live with it.
ChapterTwelve
LAINEY
“Wood called. Your car is here,” Marlene said from the doorway and I glanced from where I’d been skimming the news and Page Six. Gossip was tender. It always has been. “And your bodyguard.”
Surprise flickered through me. Pretty Boy had left earlier for a meeting of his own. He’d planned to rent a car when I told him to take one of mine. His reaction, even suppressed, told me he wasn’t that comfortable. This life was a struggle for him, though he covered well—most of the time. I needed to make this easier for him somehow.
But—that was a future problem.
“Bodyguard?”
“Mr. Karagiani,” Marlene said, her expression neutral. “I didn’t realize he was still escorting you.”
“That would make two of us,” I said, with far more ease than I was feeling. Ezra’s bodyguard had returned. The man had shadowed me for months after we got back from the island. I thought we were past this. Ezra’s behavior at the auction flashed through my mind.
“Should I send him away?” Marlene squared her shoulders like a soldier preparing for war. Despite her easy smiles and near maternal manner, one should never underestimate Marlene. I’d seen her take charge, and she was a force to be reckoned with. Even Grandfather gave her a wide berth when her temper was up.
“No,” I said, sliding my phone into my purse before slipping the strap over my shoulder. “I’ll handle him.”
“Hmm.” The non-committal sound held no judgment. I’d dressed for lunch in a skirt that fell just below my knees, a silk top, and a blazer to give it a more formal business look than a fussy lunch outfit. The heels were sensible and the black-seamed stockings were my only concession to fashion. The skirt had a slit that went to the back of my knees and the peek at the seam gave the ensemble a flirty element.
Meeting Andrea at the club for lunch meant putting on a show. As much as I disliked the club, it was the lesser of two evils when compared to heading out to Waltham Corners. The house meant memories, and the potential of running into our mother. I liked to minimize those opportunities. It didn’t hurt that Andrea liked to dress up and eat in the main dining room there, not something she got to do often. She was thirteen and the world was her oyster.
I planned to keep it that way.
Dolion Karagiani stood just inside the door. The Greek man with his razor sharp cheekbones, hard jaw, clipped short dark hair, and dark eyes looked comfortable—well, as comfortable as he ever looked—waiting for me.
“Mr. Karagiani,” I greeted him as I set down my purse and collected my leather coat. The weather had been growing chillier and the day had a bit of a damp feel to it. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
He inclined his head without even a hint of a polite smile. The man had expressions of granite. Resistant to all forms of charm and even imperiousness. Still, he seemed extremely capable. Ezra hadn’t hired him to be a companion after all.
“Mr. Graham’s orders,” Karagiani said with a kind of fait accompli.
“Hmm,” was my only response. I would deal with Ezra later. “I have a lunch to attend. You need to be a little less conspicuous because I don’t want my sister bothered or worried.”
The man nodded. “I need to sweep the room, but I can take another table if necessary.”
Oh, it would be necessary.
“It’s at the Bay Ridge Club on Long Island,” I informed him. “We’ve been there before.” I retrieved my purse and glanced over my shoulder. “Thank you, Marlene.”
“Of course,” she said, her neutral tone warming a fraction. “Have a lovely lunch.”
I would do my best. Ready, I looked at Karagiani pointedly. He opened the door and stepped out ahead of me and pressed the button to call the elevator. During our previous acquaintance, he informed me of his rules.
He wouldn’t carry bags or open doors. He would go through all doors first, unless he needed to cover my back. I was not to step out of the apartment when he summoned the elevator until it arrived and he cleared it.
If, for some baffling reason, someone else was in the elevator, he would send it away and wait for the next one. It wasn’t just the elevators here, it wasanyelevator. Beyond that, he didn’t care where I went or with who, as long as I informed him ahead of time.
He would clear any homes I visited, and in public places I was always to be within his sightline. Including the bathroom. He wore the same cold, impersonal mask. The only thing that made it all bearable was he truly didn’t seem to give a damn about my choices, just my safety, and he behaved in a professional and respectful manner.
Despite that, I doubted Pretty Boy would be happy with this development. Ezra was no doubt aggravated by the auction. If he really had an issue, he should learn to pick up a phone.
