Private Bodyguard

A source dropped these off at my office today. Darling.

She scribbled down the lie and was suddenly glad that Derrick and his questions weren’t there yet. He’d call her, no doubt, but not until after he had investigated the evidence. If he caught her now, it would be the other way around, a thought that made her hightail it out of the station.

Dodging one ex only to get into the car with another.

* * *

THE RED LEAF was one of two local coffee shops in Mulligan. Like the town, it was quaint, yet endearing in its own right. They also made a mean coffee, Darling said after she had returned from the station. She hadn’t apologized for her outburst, but he hadn’t expected her to, either.

Bailing Darling Smith out of jail had never been on Oliver’s list of scenarios for when, and if, they ever met again. Sure, he’d thought of the possibility of crossing paths when he went home to California to visit family. Maybe even a random encounter in an airport as he traveled for work. But never like this.

Occasionally, he’d wonder what he would say to her during a chance encounter. How have you been? Isn’t the weather nice? Have you cut your hair? They weren’t good greetings, but how else could he skate around the topic of their past? Now, as they sat across from each other in a worn leather booth, he doubted such a thing could be accomplished. Darling hadn’t forgotten or forgiven what he’d done, and he couldn’t blame her for that.

He hadn’t forgiven himself yet, either.

“Expecting a call?” he asked as she took care to adjust the volume on her cell.

“Expecting? No. Hoping? Still no, but I can’t ignore it.” He raised his eyebrow so she explained, “Work-related.”

“Ah, I know the feeling.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and placed it on the table, as well. With the recent changes in the job, Nikki had made it clear she wanted all guards to have their phones on at all times, even when they were off the clock.

“So, I have to ask. You didn’t seem at all surprised to see me yesterday... Why?” she asked, getting the conversational ball rolling. Darling had never been a fan of silence.

Unlike the seventeen-year-old he had left behind, this Darling was all grown and all woman. Oliver couldn’t deny she was beautiful—she always had been—but now there was something more as he really looked at her. The way her dark green eyes bore into his, trying to figure him out, was so fierce it almost shook his resolve to leave the past just where it was.

“My boss told me the name and I couldn’t imagine it being a coincidence,” he said honestly. “Though I wasn’t a hundred percent given the circumstances.”

“Ah...circumstances. You mean the trespassing accusation.”

Oliver made a gun with his hand. “Bingo.”

“Well,” she said, “given recent developments, I’d say that accusation is the least of everyone’s worries. Wouldn’t you agree?” she finished, crossing her arms over her chest. That movement meant Oliver needed to tread softly.

“We wouldn’t have taken on this case if he was a bad man, Darling. I stand by what I said earlier. Just because he was there doesn’t mean he did it, and I’d like to ask you to drop whatever case you might still have that involves him,” he said. And, apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. Almost instantly the color in her cheeks rose, her brows lifted and her lips thinned. Knowing a storm was brewing, Oliver made a second conversational mistake, hoping to pacify her. “For old times’ sake, Darling.”

He might as well have kicked her beneath the table.

“I can’t believe you’re still simply rolling over for the big dogs,” she bit out, angry. “Nigel Marks is a millionaire, so that makes whatever he does justifiable? Is that why you do what you do, Oliver? Do you get some kind of thrill from protecting the rich? Did you ever stop and wonder why that’s even necessary? No, you probably don’t, because all you care about is pleasing the elite, just waiting for them to yell ‘jump.’”

She stood so abruptly that the booth’s seat pushed back and scraped the tile. The waitress and few patrons looked over, but Darling seemed oblivious. Like them, Oliver looked at her, but in a state of awe.

“You know what?” she said. “I’m not going to sit here and be talked to like I’m still the girl you used to know.” She grabbed her purse and started to leave, pausing for a second to finish her tirade. “And Oliver, if I still had a case, I certainly wouldn’t drop it ‘for old times’ sake.’”

And just like that Darling Smith became the one who left.

Chapter Five (#ulink_be31a2de-3ba8-55c0-8def-3a7709ff9bce)

There was a reason Darling had picked the café as a place to talk with Oliver—it was only a block away from her office. He watched her through the café’s front windows as she walked in an angry huff down the street, turning into the strip mall’s parking lot and disappearing around back. Each step had been rigged with tension, each movement forced.

The waitress waited until Darling was out of view before coming to the table. She also didn’t look so pleased with him.

He let out a long breath.

“Can I place a to-go order?” he asked, glancing back out the window.

For the first time in years, Oliver let the past wash over him, bringing in the flood of memories that pieced together the last conversation he had had with the younger Darling.

She had been wearing a white dress with daisies printed across it, a stark contrast to the tears that had streaked her cheeks.

“They’re horrible, Oliver,” she had yelled. “They’ll never change! They of all people have no right to tell me what I do and don’t deserve. So, please, let’s just leave. Let’s run away together and never look back!”

“We can’t.”

“Oliver, I love you,” she had said, taking his hands in hers. They had been soft and warm. “And if you love me as much as you say, we can make it.” There had been so much hope in her eyes, despite the tears she had shed because of her parents. Despite everything she had gone through in the past year. So much hope that Oliver could still see it clearly today.

“But, Darling,” he had whispered. “I don’t want to.”

Just like that, the hope had died, and the memory of breaking Darling Smith’s heart had burned itself into his mind, becoming another moment he could never forget.

It still amazed him that such a brief conversation had made such a big impact.

“Order’s ready,” called the waitress, holding up a paper bag and a cardboard cup holder. Oliver pulled himself out of the hardest conversation he’d ever had and paid for the food.

Instead of climbing into his rental, he followed the same path Darling had taken until he was, yet again, at Acuity’s front door. He didn’t knock this time. She wouldn’t have let him in if he had.

The private investigator was standing behind the lone desk in the front room, a scowl still attached to her face, when he pushed into the lobby. Her hair billowed around her head, a crown of dark blond that seemed to crackle to life as the rest of her grew angry at the sight of him. Before she could get on a verbal roll again, he held up his café spoils in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” he said, smile wiped from his face. He let his hands fall and took a step closer. “After all this time, I shouldn’t have asked, and certainly shouldn’t have expected, you to listen to me. It wasn’t fair.” Her lips parted to talk, though he wasn’t sure which emotion was trying to push through. He continued before he could find out. “Although you weren’t fair, either. It’s clear you’ve made a few assumptions about me—some I’d like to correct—and, again, I can’t quite blame you for that. But the fact remains that it’s been eight years since we last saw each other. Our lives have changed—we’ve changed with them.” He took one last step forward, testing her waters. “Give me the chance to set a few things straight, Darling.”

“You don’t have to answer to me,” she replied. Her voice was low.