Page 39 of Crossing the Line
“Fine. Forget opinions. You’re an observant man. What are your impressions?”
He shot her a look.
“Oh, come on, indulge me.”
“You might not care for my impressions,” he warned her.
“I’ve had people critiquing my work, my face, my wardrobe, and my body since I was six. I think I can take it.”
Xavier released her foot and took his time unwrapping the taco. “Your parents—your mother specifically—hired me to protect you when what they really want is to keep you in line. Performing in whatever capacity she, or they, see fit. They pull your strings, and you’re starting to pull back. It terrifies your mother. You’re supposed to be Sylvia 2.0, her best chance at remaining relevant.”
He paused to assess her reaction, but Waverly’s flawless face was impassive. Accepting her indifference for permission to continue, he moved on.
“Your mother’s a functioning alcoholic, but the functioning part is beginning to slip. Your father checked out of your life and his own a long time ago.”
He saw her wince and wrinkle her nose.
“That brings us to you. You’re beautiful, even by Hollywood’s standards. Talented. You were born into this bubble. But instead of spoiled, I’d say smothered. Everyone pulls your strings. Everyone wants a piece of you. You learned how to get what you want the same way. You don’t trust easily because you’ve been burned too many times, been left unprotected by the very people who should have been guarding you.”
A vision of her at five years old with the paparazzi closing in on her surfaced in his mind.
“You’re about to get your hands on some legal and financial resources available to you, but you aren’t sure who you are without the strings. Or what you want. Besides college.”
He saw the sidelong glance she shot him.
“I hear things,” he said, answering her unasked question. “You’re smart, very smart. You’re observant to the point that you read people like a ninety-nine-cent book. Yet none of them have ever tried to scratch your perfect princess surface. You take your work seriously but have trouble committing to the trappings of being famous. And tonight is the only time I’ve seen you genuinely enjoy yourself.”
“Oh, is that all?” she asked, letting grains of sand slip through her fingers.
“One last thing. There’s something so appealing about you, like having the front row seat for fireworks or getting there seconds before the bud blooms.”
He saw goose bumps rising on her arms. She blew out a long, slow breath. “I’ve never been assessed and boxed up so concisely before.”
“Hazards of asking your highly trained security detail for their observations.”
“I think I’m starting to like you, Xavier.”
“Back at you.” Only what he felt was a lot darker than like.
CHAPTER NINE
Xavier had barely settled into the chair behind his desk before all six-feet five-inches of his partner ambled through his doorway.
“I see you found your way back,” Micah said, folding himself into one of Xavier’s visitor chairs.
“Didn’t even need the GPS,” Xavier quipped.
“Sure is homey in here.” Micah’s gaze rolled over the blank, beige walls, the mahogany desk and matching credenza, all void of personal effects.
Micah’s office, by contrast, had been decked out by his wife, Suzette, during her interior design phase. Handsome backlit bookcases showcased family photos and tasteful yet masculine accessories. The walls were painted a warm khaki and served as a backdrop to framed diplomas, awards, and more photographs. Micah had five potted plants in his office and a small aquarium that was usually fishless.
“I’ll get to it,” Xavier said. “Eventually.”
“You’ve been using that line for two years. You’re out of the service, in case you haven’t noticed,” Micah ribbed. “You don’t have to keep living like you might have to bug out in thirty seconds.”
It was true, Xavier thought. He’d spent most of his adult life avoiding roots and any other entanglements that would pull at him. But now he was digging roots with Invictus and digging them deep. What had started as a two-man operation was now a team of forty that included experts in the fields of personal protection, investigation, and information security. Each employee had been handpicked, scrutinized, and tested before being brought into the fold. Whenever he walked through the frosted glass doors of Invictus, he felt a quick burst of pride at what they’d already accomplished.
He kicked back in his chair and eyed his friend. “Maybe after I’m done chasing starlets, I’ll fix it up. I’m thinking about stealing one of your houseplants.”
