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“Oh, I assure you, it is.” He picks up his cigar, runs it beneath his nose, and inhales its slightly sweet floral fragrance. “Layla means the world to her mother and me. We were blessed to have been given the privilege of raising her. Her safety and well-being are paramount.” He looks toward a window, staring off into space for a moment, then back at me. “As you are well aware, her last bodyguard betrayed her trust in the most heinous way imaginable. We don’t want her to suffer another disappointment. Ruth and I are counting on you to maintain a professional relationship with our daughter. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.” I ignore the fact I watched her walk out of her bathroom in her bra and panties just an hour ago.
“I’ll be frank. Layla is an attractive young woman. She’s also wealthy beyond most people’s imaginations. Add to that, she’s vulnerable, emotionally as well as medically. Her mother and I can’t be with her every second of every day, so we have to be able to trust her bodyguard. Can we count on you to be the person she needs?”
“Yes.” I answer without hesitation.
Martin takes one puff of his cigar and then sets it back in the ashtray. He wags his index finger at me. “Don’t tell anyone you saw that,” he says with a self-deprecating grin. “I’ll deny it.”
I smile. “I won’t, sir.”
Martin gives me a hard stare. “Don’t let us down, Jason. Shane swore to us you’d never abuse your position with Layla, that you’d safeguard her. Ruth and I are counting on that. I don’t know how to be any clearer.”
I nod, fully aware of the commitment and vow I’m making. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“You’d better not.”
I leave the judge’s office and head back to the dining room. What he asked of me is perfectly acceptable. As a professional bodyguard, I’m expected to conduct myself with the utmost integrity when it comes to the health and welfare of my clients. It burns my ass that Layla’s previous bodyguard failed her, nearly costing her not only her freedom, but her life as well.
I follow the sound of voices, hearing Layla and her brother laughing about something. When I step back into the dining room, I spot Tyler leaning back in his chair, watching them with an indulgent smile on his face. Ruth seems happy and relaxed as she gazes contentedly at her two children.
“What’d I miss?” I ask as I return to my seat beside Layla.
Layla manages to stop laughing long enough to catch her breath. “Ian was telling us about the self-defense class he’s taking in preparation for his new career as a private investigator.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t that bad,” Ian insists, even as he himself can’t stop laughing. “Two against one clearly isn’t fair. Right, Tyler? You saw the whole thing. They ganged up on me.”
Tyler picks up his glass of wine and takes a sip. He’s grinning as he shakes his head at Ian. “No comment.”
“Anyway,” Ian continues. “I fell and bruised my coccyx.” He reaches behind himself to rub the spot where his spine meets his ass. “Literally, I have a bruise. This is the first time I’ve been able to sit comfortably all day.”
Tyler nearly chokes on his wine as he stifles a laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny.” He reaches over to pat Ian’s thigh. “I didn’t mean to laugh.”
“Does he really have a bruise?” Layla asks just before she pops a strawberry into her mouth.
“He does,” Tyler says. “It’s a lovely shade of purple.”
“All right, enough about my ass,” Ian says.
Struggling not to laugh, Ruth gives her son one of those parental looks. “Language, dear.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Ian says. His attention pivots to his sister. “So, sis, when do you start back at school?”
“I hope Monday,” Layla says, looking to her mom first, and then to me, as if she expects one of us to contradict her.
Ruth frowns. “Honey, are you sure you’re ready? Perhaps you should sit out the rest of the semester and start over next term.”
“No way!” Layla says. “I’m not sitting out the rest of the term. I had A’s in all of my classes before this happened. I can make up what I’ve missed, and I’ll deal with the questions as they come.”
“And the pictures?” her mom adds gently. “You know they’ll be posting images of you on social media. Are you prepared for that level of scrutiny?”
Layla’s stiffens. “I’m not sitting out the rest of the term.”
Ruth nods. “All right. But I think you should wait at least another week to give the bruises more time to fade. I’m sure, under the circumstances, your professors will let you work from home.”
Frowning, Layla nods. “One week. But not a minute more.”
After more conversation about Ian’s exploits in his self-defense class, Ian and Tyler head home. Ruth disappears to her home office to do some prep work for an important case she’s litigating in the morning.
