Page 30 of Guarding the Billionaire

The sigh seemed to come from the depths of Lois’s soul.

“I’m not going to ask if you claimed her, but if you haven’t, I’ll remind you that once you do it’s almost impossible to stay detached enough to do your job. Just because your coworkers lucked out doesn’t mean that you will. If you feel yourself slipping at all, you tell me immediately and I’ll send back up. Do you copy?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“All right, anything else?” Lois asked.

“Yes, I’d like to get a Sapphic Security car. Relying on a car service to get us around town is making me twitchy.”

“Good thinking,” Lois agreed. “This guy’s been quiet for a few days now. My spidey senses are telling me he’ll try something soon.”

“Agreed. I’ll pick one up in the morning.”

“Sounds good. And Taylor, remember what I said. The minute you feel compromised I want a call.”

She hung up the phone before I could respond.

Little did I know that I’d need back up in less than twenty-four hours.

We got up on Saturday morning and after drinking a protein shake I made for her, I suggested that Flora come to the basement and work out with me. We’d been working out together most nights after work – a compromise since Flora liked to sleep as late as possible -- and although she would never admit it, I thought Flora was enjoying it. Especially when I told her I’d teach her sword fighting.

I’d learned sword fighting as a young girl. It was a weird weapon choice in this day and age, but my father had belonged to a Renaissance Fair group, and he’d traveled to fairs across the country during the summer months re-enacting sword fights for the crowds.

Dad had given me a full-size sword when I turned ten, and other than when I was in the military I’d practiced with it regularly. It helped with both my reflexes and balance, and more than that, it was an enjoyable way to work out.

I’d gotten Flora a smaller sword and put a guard on mine to make sure I didn’t accidently hurt her. It had only been a fewdays, but Flora was really getting into it, enough that she readily came downstairs to work out with me.

We did some stretching, then sparred with the swords for a while before doing some bodyweight exercises. By the time we headed back upstairs we were both feeling the burn of a good workout.

“My arm feels like lead,” Flora complained as we entered the kitchen. “It’s crazy how heavy that sword feels after a while.”

“But your arms are getting stronger, so that’s pretty cool,” I reminded her.

With her face flushed from her workout and her hair pulling out of the long braid she was wearing she looked young and almost carefree. I liked her better like this, no makeup, looking totally natural, and wearing casual clothes. It was a look I knew she never showed to the rest of the world, which made me appreciate it even more.

It was early in the day, and since it was Saturday Flora wasn’t going into the office. After eating breakfast, I suggested that we call for a ride over to Sapphic Security to pick up a car.

We were halfway to the office when I heard the driver swear.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“The jerk behind me is riding my bumper,” the driver grumbled. “Every time I speed he just increases his speed too.”

“Get down,” I ordered Flora. “On the floor, make yourself as small as you can.”

To Flora’s credit, she complied immediately, curling up into a ball on the floor behind the passenger seat. Slipping my gun out of my waistband, I lowered myself until just the top of my head was visible over the back seat and looked out at the car behind us. The windows were dark tinted, darker than was allowed by law, making it hard to see anything other than a general outline of the driver.

Traffic cleared and the car swung alongside us. Instincts kicked in.

“Go!” I shouted to the driver. “He’s going to side swipe us!”

The driver floored the gas pedal, making the town car shoot up just enough that when the other driver turned the wheel, he only clipped the back panel. Flora screamed as the guy hit us hard enough that the driver struggled to stay in his lane from the impact.

“Damn it,” the driver yelled. “My boss is gonna kill me.”

“We need to lose him. Turn right at the next intersection,” I instructed. “Don’t signal, don’t slow down, turn at the last possible second.”

The driver complied, jerking the wheel to the side with a squeal of rubber, and I continued my instructions.

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