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“Bree is one of the top protection agents on my team. Along with her husband, Westin,” I tell her, adding in the tidbit that Bree is married.
Her shoulders visibly relax. “You didn’t have to rouse her out of bed so early,” Ava says, taking in the time illuminated on my phone that’s lying between us. The small device is like a borderline that I feel the urge to cross and gather Ava up in my lap.
I avert my gaze from hers. Something in the way she looks at me nearly encourages me to make my thoughts a reality.
“Trust me, Bree is up even earlier than this most days. All of my team members are used to grueling and often unpredictable schedules.”
Ava adjusts the fleece around herself before meeting my stare again. “I don’t know much about what you do,” she says. “You and Asher are very hushed about it. When I was a teen, I thought you were like James Bond or something, running off to secret missions.”
“James Bond? Is it the British accent?” I quip.
Ava rolls her eyes at me, and I hate how adorable I find the action. I keep my features schooled, not wanting to show how affected I am.
“No, it’s when you started working in security. You were always in suits and could never tell us about the clients you were protecting.”
My job mostly dealt with well-known people who employed my team when they came to the tri-state area or required us to travel with them. Very rarely did that extend to political figures, but I always prided myself on my confidentiality.
“Unfortunately, my job is nowhere near as sexy or glamorous as James Bond,” I say.
Ava begins to ask another question, but a notification on my phone alerts me of a new text message from Bree.
Turning into your driveway!
The footage from the doorbell camera shows Bree reaching to extract something from her back seat, her blonde ponytail bobbing brightly in the early morning sun.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Ava, making my way to the front door and catching Bree with her hand raised to depress the Ring doorbell.
“Morning, sunshine!” Bree exclaims and wraps her arms around me for a brief hug.
Bree is…a lot. Doesn’t matter the hour, she’s the only person I know who is energetic first thing in the morning and actually smiling.
How she and Westin have been married for so long, I can’t fathom, since their dispositions are total opposites.
“Sorry it took me so long, Bran. I kept trying to figure out if Ava would be more of a pink or an orange girl. I had so much unworn stuff in my drawers and couldn’t pick one, so I brought a few options,” Bree says, finally taking a breath.
“I’m sure it’s fine, Bree.” I say. “Ava only needs something to wear to get back home.”
“Of course. It’s just—” Bree pauses and spies Ava, who I see is standing up from the sofa. “Omigod, hi!”
“Thank you so much for bringing the clothes—” Ava begins to say, and Bree interjects.
“I follow all your videos and subscribe to your newsletter! Your chicken costoletta recipe was an absolute hit,” Bree says, forgetting all about me and stepping toward Ava to hand her the Target bag.
I think back to the meal Bree brought for the team dinner a few weeks ago. It was amazing and everyone nearly fought for seconds. I didn’t know at the time that I’d been eating something Ava created.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Chicken costoletta is one of my most watched recipe videos. Everyone is always telling me how much they love it.”
“It’s one of my favorites. I always look forward to new uploads. I can’t wait for your cookbook to come out!” Bree exclaimed.
I’d watched a few of Ava’s videos before, but I didn’t realize what a following she had until Bree’s exuberance this morning.
“Thank you so much for the clothes.” Ava extracts a shirt with a tag hanging from the sleeve. “Last night, we were in a mad dash to get away,” Ava says, her face taking on a somber appearance
“Oh, Bran told me all about it. Don’t worry. TSS will make sure your safe,” Bree responds.
“TSS? I didn’t realize I was one of your clients now,” Ava says, giving me a pointed look. “Would have been nice if someone had discussed that with me.”
Bree’s expression is crestfallen. “Whoops,” she says, turning back towards me. “My big mouth again.”
