The Professional Read online

  I held my breath until the warm summer evening air hit my face. With no shouts of alarm from behind me, I was safe to assume I’d made it.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  I cursed internally. I’d forgotten all about Scott. His eyes took in my party dress and uncharacteristic face-full of makeup.

  “No?” I tried.

  Scott’s inexpressive face showed zero emotion at my attempt at humor. “Where’s that prissy bodyguard?” he asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Alex hot on my heels. “Distracted,” I admitted with a smile.

  Scott grunted something that might just have been a laugh. Then he swiveled in his chair to look back at the screens showing the security camera footage. I stood there awkwardly, not sure if I should turn back or not.

  “What are you still doing here, Princess?” he asked, not turning from the screens.

  That was all I needed. I rushed past the guard booth and out the gate onto the crowded pavement. It was fast approaching nine. I considered taking the subway, but decided to actually take a cab for once. I might not have cared if Sarah Summers and her entourage didn’t know who I was, but I still wasn’t going to show up at her party smelling like the subway and sweaty from the walk. My mother’s lessons on propriety and grace still sat tattooed on my brain.

  The evening traffic was thick and I had plenty of time to think as the cab slowly inched its way across Midtown toward Chelsea. I tried to picture where Alex was now. Was he searching the house, hoping I was still there somewhere? Or was he sitting, defeated, in the entryway, waiting for me to get home, knowing he’d never be able to find me in the city? What he wasn’t doing was making a call to Athea to inform Mother that he’d lost me. I smiled at the thought.

  It was almost ten when the cab pulled up in front of Sarah Summers’ high-rise luxury apartment building. I texted Diana that I was on my way up.

  In the lobby, I was stopped by a man with an impassive face and a black suit.

  “Are you on the list?” he asked.

  “Cora Harmont,” I tried, hoping I wasn’t about to get thrown out.

  “Cordelia Harmont?” he asked without looking at a list.

  I nodded and he let me pass. Now that was a real bodyguard.

  I pressed the elevator button. The doors opened almost instantly and I stepped inside. I started to dig through my bag for a compact to check my makeup when I heard a deep voice call, “Hold the door.”

  I stuck my hand out into the door without thinking, even as the voice registered as familiar to my ears. There in the lobby stood Alex Motherfucking Flynn in a three piece suit, dark hair slicked back against his head and a twinkle in his eye. He grinned at the look of unbridled fury that crossed my face.

  “We going to a party?” he asked, innocently. For a moment, I kept my arm across the door. Could I just tell him to wait down here? No, he’d never do it. Just as I decided to lower it and let him in, Sarah Summers’ guard approached from behind.

  “Sir?” he asked.

  Alex glanced around. “I’m with her,” he said, looking back at me for confirmation.

  Now it was my turn to smile. “Never seen him before in my life,” I said, taking my hand away from the door. The last thing I saw before the doors closed was Alex’s shocked face as the guard put a hand on his shoulder.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Alex

  If Cora thought a single security guard was going to stop me from getting into that party, she thought wrong. I didn’t get the pleasure of riding up with her, but I’d be damned if she went on without me, even if we were currently, technically, fighting. A jolt of displeasure passed through me at the thought of our argument. At least she’d started it this time.

  It wasn’t a big deal slipping past the guard while he was distracted checking in another guest. I entered the elevator and this time it was me holding the door as the approved guest called for me to wait.

  The girl that entered looked at me and then did a double take. It took me just as long to recognize her.

  “Flynn!” Diana said, looking equal parts astounded and annoyed at my presence.

  I was just as surprised to see her, but really who else would Cora be going to a party with?

  “Going up?” I asked.

  “Yes and you’re going out,” she said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m Cora’s bodyguard,” I said. “I have to be here.” The doors started to slide closed, but Diana stuck an arm into them.

  “Does Cora know you’re here,” she demanded.

  “Of course,” I said. Not really a lie. “But she’s mad at me so she didn’t want me to ride up with her.” Also completely true. I was just leaving out the small detail that she had no intention of allowing me to follow.

  Diana eyed me suspiciously, but drew her hand back to her side. “Are you really that surprised?” she asked, jabbing the top floor button aggressively with a manicured finger.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “That she’s mad at you?” she asked. “God, Flynn, I can’t believe you told her that you report on her to her mother. You have no idea what kind of hornet’s nest you kicked.”

  I was amused by Diana’s obviously fierce loyalty to Cora. It was sweet. For some reason, I felt compelled to defend myself to this tiny girl I’d only ever met once through a doorway. “She started it,” I muttered.

  Diana shot me a whithering glance. “What are you, twelve? Gotta have a better excuse than that.”

  “OK, sue me,” I said. “I said something stupid that wasn’t true because she was being a bitch for no reason.”

  Diana’s head snapped away from examining her fingernails to lock eyes with me. “OK, first of all do not call my best friend a bitch. And secondly, what is that even supposed to mean?”

  “What do you mean? And I didn’t call her a bitch, I said she was acting like one.”

  Diana rolled her eyes. “Semantics. And you really are going to tell me with a straight face that your entire purpose in that house isn’t to report on Cora’s every move?”

  I furrowed my brow. “What? No it isn’t. Shit, Jackie doesn’t even ask me what Cora does, much less the Princess. I’ve never even talked to her.”

  Diana looked at me oddly. “I can’t tell if you’re full of shit or not,” she said finally.

  “I assure you,” I said, “I frequently am. But this time I’m telling you the truth. I promise.”

  Diana studied my face in silence until the elevator doors opened with a ding. Then she broke into a smile.

  “Why are you smiling?” I asked.

  “Because,” she said, walking out of the doors with a bounce to her step, “I’m going to win five dollars.”

  Whatever that’s supposed to mean, I thought, following her into the hall.

  It was a short walk. There was only a single door to enter. Whoever’s apartment this was must be a hotshot. The door was guarded by a bulky, bald man in a black suit. He wore black sunglasses for some reason and stood about four inches taller than me. I guess when you’re as rich as this person was, even your bodyguards are exceptional to the point of abnormality.

  “Diana Hargreaves and…” she looked at me. “Friend’s bodyguard,” she finally settled on.

  He checked a list and then nodded, stepping aside and pulling the door open for us to pass into the party.

  As I walked by him, I flashed a grin. “On the grind, huh?”

  He ignored me and closed the door. Maybe that was what professional was supposed to mean. Well fuck it. I was professional in my real job. Most of the time.

  I didn’t have much time to dwell on the guard’s snub because as I stepped over the threshold into the penthouse, I crossed a metaphysical line between reality and celebrity. The penthouse had a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched the length of a cavernous living room, giving a panoramic view of the city. Everything was white - the carpet, the walls, the furniture - even the pool table s
et back from the built-in couch. Waiters carried trays of food back and forth through the crowd of people. All the guests shared similar characteristics - well dressed, fit, attractive, expensive. My fingers itched at the sight of so many Rolexes and gold jewelry. Be cool, Alex. Eye on the prize.

  The prize here meaning Cora, who I spotted instantly standing by the bar looking uncomfortable. She started when she saw Diana and then her eyes flicked over to me. They widened in surprise then narrowed in anger.

  “What the hell, Diana?” she hissed once we were in earshot.

  “What?” Diana asked. “Sorry, I was running late.”

  “No,” Cora said. “Him!” She waved at me. “I got him stuck in the lobby and you let him waltz up on your coattails.”

  Diana’s mouth fell open and then she turned so that they were both glaring daggers at me. I felt imminent danger and backed up a step.

  “Now wait a minute,” I said.

  “You tricked me!” Diana demanded. Then a little bit of anger slipped off her face and she turned her head to Cora. “He’s good,” she admitted.

  “Whose side are you on?” Cora asked, aghast.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Diana said, rounding back on me.

  “I’m getting you thrown out,” Cora snapped.

  “Hold on,” I said, holding up my hands. “Look, I’m already here. I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Too late,” she said, looking around for someone to signal.

  “I’ll make a scene,” I threatened. “And I’ll warn you: I don’t feel embarrassment.”

  The girls looked at each other. A wordless debate flashed across their faces, Diana pleading, Cora incensed.

  But finally she caved.

  “Fine,” she said. “But you’re leaving me alone.” She started to walk away then turned and said, “Make sure you gather all the information for your report.”

  Diana grabbed her arm and led her away. “About that…” I heard her say before they were out of earshot. It sounded like, despite my deception in the lobby, Diana still believed what I’d said in the elevator.

  I debated following them, but Cora was annoyed with me and I wanted to give her some time to cool down, hopefully with Diana talking me up in her ear. Besides, it wasn’t every day I got to see what filthy-rich kids got up to when the cameras weren’t around. I settled against the bar and ordered a martini.

  As it turned out, they weren’t as insane as I’d hoped. I kept an eye out for monkeys on leashes or maybe a mob of models betting on homeless men fighting, but unless there was a private backroom, the party-goers seemed to have pretty tame tastes. A group played pool, another cards around a white felt casino table with a professional dealer. Most hung around the bar or out on the deck where an infinity pool floated over the Manhattan streets.

  I recognized some faces - singers, models, actors, a social elite or two - but most seemed to be more or less nobodies, friends of the famous, cling-ons, entourage. They stuck close to their ticket in and laughed a bit too loudly at their jokes. They looked around frequently at the splendor, appraised the glassware with scheming eyes, probably wondering if they could somehow lose them in a handbag or purse at some point over the evening. It was like looking in a mirror.

  “So what do you do?” I turned away from the party to see a tall, dark-haired woman who looked like she’d just waltzed her way out of a glitzy Hollywood party during the 1950’s and happened to turn up in this century. She had hooded dark brown eyes and sleek, glossy black hair that twisted both casually and meticulously down her back. Her dress, strapless and red, clung to her body as it fell to the floor, a slit up to her thigh baring a single leg. I half-expected to see a long cigarette holder clutched in her black gloves that ran to her elbows. But this was the twenty-first century and instead she sucked seductively on a Juul.

  “I’m in security,” I said. “And you?”

  She blew a cloud of raspberry scented smoke around us. I tried not to cough. “I’m a model,” she said. She extended a slender hand. “I’m Valery Moss.”

  She said it like I was supposed to recognize her. I did not, but I took her hand anyway and pressed it to my lips.

  “Alex!”

  I turned to see Cora staring furiously at me. She had returned alone. A stream of smoke blew past my head and haloed her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Valery Moss said without a hint of alarm. “Is that your girlfriend?”

  “No,” I said. “Client. I should get back to her though.”

  “Must you?”

  “Um. Yeah.” I turned quickly and walked over to Cora. I glanced over my shoulder once I was beside her, but Valery Moss was already gone, leaving only a faint cloud of vape smoke to signal that she was ever there.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me?” Cora asked.

  I shrugged. “I guess so. But I’m not getting the sense that you’re in so much danger here.”

  “Then why don’t you go home?”

  “Because I have to stay by your side.”

  “Then why are you off talking to Miss-” she searched for an adequate insult, “-Blowy McCloudface?”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Shut up,” she said.

  “Why do you care anyway?” I asked. “You jealous?”

  “No- I- Ugggg, you are so frustrating,” she said. “I was coming over here to apologize and now I’m not going to.”

  That peaked my interest. I signaled to the bartender for two more of my drink.

  “OK, I’m sorry,” I said, leaning against the bar. “And what were you going to apologize to me for?” I cocked my head. “Have you been using my towel? I thought it felt damp.”

  “Dammit, Alex, can you be serious for one second?” she asked.

  “Sorry, sorry,” I said. I relaxed my face into a grave expression. “What did you do this time?”

  She rolled her eyes and started to walk away, but I grabbed her arm. She looked at my touch, but didn’t pull away.

  “I’m sorry, Cora,” I said, as seriously as I could. “Just trying to lighten the mood. I know you’re not exactly happy with me right now.”

  I let go of her arm and she debated leaving, but then slid into a seat at the bar. She took a sip of her martini before asking, “And what makes you say that?”

  “You avoiding me all day was one indication,” I said. “And our argument yesterday, of course.”

  She looked away. “I was an asshole,” she finally said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Accepted and reversed,” I said. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

  “Diana told me,” she said, looking at the bar and chewing at her lip. “Swear to me,” she said, looking up to meet my eye.

  “What?” I asked

  “Swear that you’re not reporting on me to my mother. Or to Jackie.”

  I covered my heart with one hand. “I swear on my own mother’s grave that I’ve never told either of them anything about you. They haven’t asked, but even if they did, I wouldn’t.”

  Cora frowned and then shook her head. “I’m so confused,” she groaned.

  I wasn’t sure about what, but I needed to ask. “Do you believe me?” I didn’t realize until that moment just how badly I wanted her to say yes.

  She shot me a side glance, bit her lip again, then smiled softly. “Yeah, but I couldn’t tell you for the life of me why.”

  I grinned. “I’ve always been told I inspire trust.”

  She rolled her eyes again and looked away, out at the patio, but I could see she was still smiling.

  “OK,” she said finally. “How did you know? About the party?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How did I know that Jackie wouldn’t just stop calling me directly and instead send me messages through you? It was an educated guess.”

  “So you knew the entire time?”

  I opened my mouth, but then paused, smiled. “OK, I might have been on my way down the elevator before the oddity of the situation came to mind. But it was still just in time to ca
tch you sneaking down the stairs. I will admit I didn’t think Scott hated me quite so much.”

  She giggled and it was adorable. The rush of feeling the small laugh inspired was so strong I almost staggered back from the bar in surprise. Somehow I held it together.

  “He despises you,” she said, “if it was enough to make him forget his duty.”

  “Yeah well, you can’t please everyone,” I said. “It wasn’t a bad plan,” I admitted, after a moment. “It might have worked too, on someone else.”

  She rested her chin on her hand and looked at me sideways. “Well, keep on your toes because I’ve got a lot more tricks up my sleeve.”

  There have been very few moments in my life that have left me speechless, but for some reason, Cora, lounging against the bar in her little black dress, telling me to watch out, left me tongue-tied and stupid. I wanted to press her against the bar and kiss her right there. There was a heavy moment of silence and maybe she felt the same way because I swear I saw her eyes dart to my lips.

  No, I had to think clearly. I fought past the fog.

  “Whose party is this by the way?” I asked, changing the subject. The tension left the moment. “Lot of recognizable faces here.”

  Cora looked almost disappointed, but then she shot me a sly grin.

  “What?” I asked, a sense of dread growing at her expression.

  “Sarah Summers. Remember her? You used to bodyguard for her apparently.”

  Oh shit. “Sarah Summers?” I repeated, hoping Cora didn’t see the brief crack in my facade. “You’re friends?”

  “No,” Cora said, “I’ve never met her. But her boyfriend is friends with Diana’s boyfriend and she wanted someone to hang out with at this thing so here I am.”

  “Speaking of Diana,” I said, “shouldn’t she be here somewhere?”

  Cora shrugged. “She’s off with Derek probably. She’ll be back when he pisses her off. It won’t be too long if history is any indication.”

  I started to say something, but Cora suddenly reached out a hand to grip my arm. Her sudden touch made me stiffen. “Oh shit, she’s coming over here.”