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“Yes. We’d like him to start as soon as possible.” He glances again at Jade, as if silently asking for help in navigating a tricky social scenario.
Me. I’m the tricky social scenario. Because I’m clearly resistant to the idea of Caleb for absolutely no good reason.
I hate feeling like a burden after being a huge, messy problem for my family for so long.
“If you’re really okay with it,” Jade adds immediately, stepping over and putting her hand on William’s back in a casual, intimate gesture that’s both natural and incredibly sweet. “We’re not trying to push anything on you. We’re just worried, and honestly, I feel responsible.”
“You’re not responsible,” I counter immediately.
“You’re not responsible,” William says at the same time.
“Okay, okay.” Jade’s smile is adorably self-deprecating. “I know it’s not my fault. But sometimes we feel things that aren’t entirely logical.”
“That I know.” I smile at her and then shift it to William. “I really do appreciate you both looking out for me and trying to help. You talked to my dad, I assume?”
“Yes, I gave him a call. He requested Caleb specifically, although we’d already decided he’d be the best for this job.”
I talk to my father once a week on the phone, and I visit him at Christmas and his birthday every year. He comes here to see me at least twice a year, whenever he has room in his schedule. We’ve never been exceptionally close—work has always been the most important thing to him—but we get along fine, and we’re both committed to keeping up a basic familial connection.
“Okay. That makes sense.”
William looks relieved. His expression relaxes as he glances out the big bay window in the front of my living room. It offers a clear view of the car they came in. “Good. I’ll go out and tell him. Then maybe we can have lunch?”
“Of course. That’s what I was hoping. But if Caleb is staying here, who will take you back home?”
“Ray will be here shortly. He’ll take care of us.” William is barely finished speaking before he’s out my front door.
Jade smiles fondly as she shakes her head at his back. “He’s been really worried about you.”
“I appreciate it. Really. But I don’t want him to be worrying too much. I think I’ll be fine—especially if I have protection.”
“Thank you for agreeing to it. I know it can be kind of stifling.” She peers at me closely. “So did something uncomfortable go on with Caleb? I never would have suspected him of acting inappropriately, but if he has, you need to?—”
“No, no! He’s never been remotely inappropriate.” My mouth twists as I swallow over another surge of internal resistance. “I told William the truth. The problem was always me. I was a total mess back then, and I feel like I’ve done a decent job moving past it, but…” I take a weird, ragged breath.
“Caleb reminds you of that part of your life?”
“Yeah. Exactly. It’s not fair to Caleb since he helped me so much back then, but I was… It’s mortifying now. Everything I did. How completely out of control I was. And he saw all of it. More than anyone else. He saw… everything.”
“I get that.” Her face is quietly sympathetic. “But he’s a good guy, at least as far as I can tell. He must have realized you might be uncomfortable, because he insisted you agree to it before he would finalize the plans for your protection. I don’t think he’s holding anything against you from back then.”
“N-no. I know. I didn’t think he was holding a grudge or anything. It’s just—” I have no idea how to put it into words.
I want him to think well of me. And knowing the person I was back then, there’s no chance he ever will.
But that’s my problem. No one else’s. All these people are going far out of their way to help me, and I’m not going to throw it back into their faces like an ungrateful teenager.
It doesn’t matter that I can’t finish my explanation to Jade, because William pushes back in through my front door. He steps into my small living room, followed closely by another man.
Caleb has always been one of the most attractive men I’ve ever known. He’s built big, and he’s in excellent shape. It feels like he’s filling far too much of the room. He’s got a broad forehead and a square-cut jaw and blue eyes so vivid I can see their color from all the way across the room.
He’s wearing a pair of black trousers and a gray oxford shirt, a variation of the outfits he always used to wear. Neat and of good quality. No-nonsense. Intended to help him fade into the background.
Not that he ever could. Not because of his behavior but because of how much he commands the space.
He’s not smiling as he meets my eyes and nods at me. He was never a smiler. Always stoic and professional, making it clear I’ve always been a job to him.
And not an easy job back then. Far too often, he got puked on and cursed at and mocked endlessly. He had to follow me to bars and nightclubs and friends’ yachts and back alleys and strangers’ apartments. He had to pick me up, sling me over his shoulder, and haul me back to the car more times than I can possibly count, sometimes with me kicking and screaming the whole way. I came on to him more than once while I was drunk or high, trying (and failing) to feel him up and tease him into submission.
