Page 14 of Caleb
“May I please help you with your backpack?” The words pour out of my mouth almost like a plea. I extend my hand and wiggle my fingers. She grips the leather strap one last time before she finally yields the backpack to me.
“Are you … new here?” Her eyes narrow as she tucks a wind-dancing strand of hair behind her ear. She knows I’m new, but I guess she’s curious to knowwhatI’ll be doing. I part my lips to reply, but I’m quickly interrupted.
“Good morning, Miss Murphy.” Aaron steps beside me. “This is Agent Cohen, but I see he’s introduced himself already.” He shoots me with a mean side-eye, which fails to intimidate me. I’m sure he’s the big bad guy around here, and he’s used to it—uses it to his favor. It makes me laugh on the inside. Aaron knows better than to try that shit with me, but I’ll give it to him for trying. “He’ll be replacing Agent Lewis.”
“Oh, okay,” she says, massaging her shoulder. She doesn’t seem to know what to do with her hands now that she’s not carrying her backpack. But she better get used to the feeling because this girl won’t carry it as long as I’m around. I’ll make sure of it.
“I know Agent Lewis was temporarily assigned to me, but my father didn’t tell me I would have two agents following me around all day. You know, permanently.” She directs her attention at me for a heartbeat and says, “No offense.”
“None taken.” I press my lips to keep a straight face and prevent myself from smiling. This girl’s got fire inside her lying underneath the fleeting fragility of her current emotional state. And I like it. But she seems annoyed about the unexpected turn of events, as I’m sure it’s customary being her father’s daughter. It’s cute.
“I apologize for the confusion, Miss Murphy,” Aaron says matter of factly, but there’s a gentleness hovering around the edges of his tone that tells me he’s got a soft spot for the girl, and I don’t blame him. He’s known and taken care of Miss Murphy for years. Been through hell and back with her.
With a sigh, Miss Murphy checks the time on her watch and starts walking toward the car. Aaron and I follow her in silence.
And so it begins …
Duty
WE ARRIVE AT MISS MURPHY’S SCHOOL, which is basically a 16th-century castle turned high school for girls. A complete blueprint of the place was handed out to me a few weeks ago. Security is tight at the premises, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t already studied and memorized the building’s layout and all of its exits before this day. You can never be too safe.
Aaron parks the car, and I fly out of my seat to open Miss Murphy’s door. She steps out of the car and holds out her hands in front of her. “Thank you, Cohen. I’ll take my backpack now.”
“That’s fine, Miss Murphy,” I say, careful to avoid her gaze. I’m fully convinced she will fight me on this one.
“I can carry it myself. It’s not that heavy.”
There you go.
“I insist.” My tone is friendly but adamant. This bag feels as if it were full of bricks. And the fact that I’m an employee and not her friend is the only thing stopping me from teasing her about it. Maybe someday. I’m sure she’d love it.
“Ok.” Her cheeks puff as she lets out a breath with an air of defeat. “Let me just grab something then.” Miss Murphy reaches into one of the front pockets and unzips it to pull out a weathered paperback copy ofThe Princess Brideand her phone. A Blackberry. I’m still trying to get used to the device since I was provided with an identical model as part of my “Security Agent Starter Pack.” My big fingers make it hard for me to tap the correct motherfucking keys all the time. Aaron says I’ll get used to it.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I motion toward the path that leads to the main entrance, inviting her to start walking. She does, reluctantly. This girl’s temper is charming in the most refreshing way. I can tell she’s throwing an internal tantrum about not being able to carry her own bag, but it only makes it more amusing for me to do so.
Once she gives her back to me and starts awkwardly walking along the path surrounded by a perfectly manicured lawn, I smile. I’m beginning to think this backpack serves as some sort of security blanket for her, and maybe I’m making her uncomfortable by not letting her carry it herself. By doing stuff she feels perfectly capable of doing on her own. But I don’t give a rat’s ass. Her shoulder and back can thank me later.
Aaron’s standing beside me now, and we’re giving Miss Murphy a fair head start before following her. She tucks her phone inside her blazer pocket and hugs the book against her chest. We’re good as long as we have a clear visual of her. At least Ambassador Murphy is decent enough to concede this one petition to his daughter—some vital space between her and her security while inside school premises.
Aaron has mentioned how she can act a bit jumpy at times when a public space gets too crowded, and I don’t blame her after what she’s been through, but I also wouldn’t want to make her feel smothered by our presence. And that’s precisely our job, to betherebut not.
In some situations our presence will need to be noticeable, but according to her files, Miss Murphy rarely attends any official diplomatic functions as of late. She used to before, and it’s only natural that with time, she’ll go back to accompany her father to certain key events every now and then. I just hope she’s not rushed into doing that.
We walk through the main door, and small groups of girls gather here and there, talking, giggling, and glancing our way. I don’t blame them. As much as we would love to be inconspicuous, there’s nothing much you can do to hide two over-six-foot-three former ex-military Israelis in full suits and curly earpieces. Everyone knowswhatwe are, and they all seem to knowwhowe are here for because as much as I can tell how Miss Murphy is trying to blend in with the students, her presence alone stands out from the rest. And it’s not just her beauty or the striking color of her hair. An aura surrounding her in how she carries herself makes youlook. Or maybe it’s all of the above.
Miss Murphy stops outside her first-period classroom, glances over her shoulder in our direction, and opens her book. There are still ten minutes left before her class starts, and of course, she would choose to spend this idle time reading. It bugs me to know she’s struggled to make new friends.
Aaron and I linger a safe distance away. I’m still happily carrying her backpack, and she’s still standing alone leaning against the classroom’s wall, her full attention plastered on the pages of her book. Aaron’s making small talk like it’s customary in situations like these. But I can’t help but bounce my attention back to her, analyzing her frowns and smiles as she reads. Books seem to be her refuge—a hideout of sorts. It’s endearing to witness.
“Très beau,” a tall, blonde girl who seems to be a senior says to her friend as she walks past us. The slight curve in her lips and the way she sweeps me with her gaze from head to toe give me an idea of what she just said. The girl beside her, a brunette with long curly hair, pulls the blonde’s arm and shakes her head disapprovingly in her friend’s direction. “Mais c’est vrai!” The blonde winks at me and laughs in the close distance as she keeps walking down the hall.
“Oy,” Aaron mutters under his breath. “I never considered you being closer in age to these schoolgirls would be an issue.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And I do. But what does he want me to say? I haven’t moved a single muscle on my face except for those needed to reply to him ever since I stepped inside this building. I’m not even sure what that girl said. It was mainly her body language that made me put two and two together.
“Come on. They’re just being silly,” I tell him, trying to get him to let go of that concern. It’s not going to be “an issue,” as he says. He replies by adjusting his tie and brushing the flaps of his jacket with a furrowed brow.
A few minutes later of us looking around and waiting for class to begin, the bell rings, making Miss Murphy flinch and drop her book on the floor. I could’ve heard the gasp that surely came out of her parted lips if it weren’t for the bustle of the students walking down the hallway and trickling into their classrooms. But I admit that I was glancing her way. It bothers me to see her alone, not that she doesn’t seem to have been enjoying her book.
