Chapter One
Eli Richardson
“Don’t be such little bitches,” I scoffed at my financial advisor, Frank; and my assistant, Phil.
The three of us were having our annual meeting and Frank, as usual, was trying to get me to be conservative with my investments. I tell his ass all the fucking time, “I’m the talent, you’re the advisor.” I make money because I listen to my own advice. He keeps threatening to quit, but I pay him too much. I mean, I’m the one who has someone trying to kill me and all, but he’s loyal.
“Mr. Richardson, I think you need to consider the future. Your future, sir.” He gave me a meaningful look, his eyes overshadowed by bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows.
Frank was always talking about my future, like a drought or tornado was headed in my direction. One day he mentioned the idea of me settling down, and I nearly choked on my cheese-covered cracker.
“Settle down,” I directed the man. “Why the fuck would I do that shit?”
“To sow your royal oats, sir…” he began reluctantly. “Maybe even find love.”
He had the nerve to clear his throat at that comment.
Settle.
The.
Fuck.
Down.
No gotdamn way.
“Love doesn’t pay bills, nor shall it reside here,” I told him. “Don’t ever say that shit again.”
It was the last time he mentioned it. Still, it didn’t stop the old man from hinting toward some sort of Immaculate Conception of having kids and some alluded future. My future did not and would not include ‘settling down’.
“Frank, stop,” I cut him off from his musings. “Buy the property.”
“Yes, sir,” he nodded.
Now, it was Phil’s turn to interrupt as he announced, “On the nature of your security, sir, the interviewee is here.”
That was Frank’s cue to leave, because I’m sure he did not want to spend another moment with me.
“Bring him in.” I waved at him and proceeded to open my Mac Book Air so I could actually do some work. As the backlight came on, I intuitively felt a different aura in the room. I always had shit like this happen to me, even when I was in the army serving my great nation. This was why I was promoted so early. Fucked around and that uncanny sixth sense saved my whole platoon that day. The general at the time said I was crazy enough to speak up, but also crazy enough to be a hero. He gave me shit after that, though. It was bad enough that shit over there was fucked up, but then to have some General riding my ass, I didn’t need. So, after my second tour I was honorably discharged and had served five years and could…no, would…kill a man with my bare hands.
The idea of security was fucking asinine. I was not that prick who needed protection. I could take care of myself, but these fucking death threats were coming faster and appeared to get more serious as time went on. My mother was residing on my property now, so I had to take precautions.
At forty-seven, outside of my mother, I’m unmarried with no kids or other relationships to speak of. Except the relationship I had with my cousin, Trent, and his father. Trent married to some black woman over in D.C. Even had some kids…two, I believe. He sends me a card every year at Christmas, but we’re not that close. When he sold his home in Louisiana, my uncle tried to get me to buy it, but I wanted nothing to do with that. Apparently, Trent wanted to sell the home because it was built on the backs of slaves.
Fuck, no.
Keep me out of it.
I saw movement in my peripheral vision and though the energy had changed, so had the atmosphere. Slowly looking up, I saw the brownest, brightest eyes I’d ever seen staring back at me. They belonged to a black woman who wore a white button-up shirt that showed very little chest to speak of, if she had any. The suit jacket covered any suggestion of sexy or a shape. The black, and rather lose pants were also not fit to her size. Though her cheekbones were pronounced, the way her hair was brushed back into a tight bun at the back of her head made them stand out even more. No earrings to view, no makeup to critique, and the look on her stoic face spoke volumes.
Are these idiots serious?
My head slowly turned toward Phil as I barked, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Sir,” Phil began, but I did not even let him finish his statement.
“Is this your idea of a fucking joke?” I asked as my eyes seared through him, because I do not play games with anyone. “You bring a woman in to guard my life? A fucking woman?”
“Sir…” Phil began again. “Please understand that Ms. Brandi Cruise is a high-profile, VIP bodyguard, former special agent, and veteran, who is highly qualified. She comes with recommendations from as high up as the Vice President of the United States, sir.”
With a quick jerk of my head, I immediately stood up and said, “I don’t care if Jesus Christ anointed her with twelve doves, a partridge in a pear tree. There will never be a woman serving as a bodyguard for me.”
“Sir, she’s available…” he began, until the woman in front of me raised her index finger, insinuating that she wanted to speak.
“Pitter, patter,” I said, urging her along, since she was taking her sweet time.
She turned toward Phil and said in a melodic, yet devoid of all emotion tone, “There’s no need to convince him of my credentials. There are other assignments I can take. No need to put my skills to use for someone who has no appreciation for them.”
She did not and would not look at me, but I also did not like her lack of tone or what she was trying to insinuate.
“There are many skills a woman can acquire and many jobs they can do…but protecting my life is not one of them,” I assured her.
Phil sighed, and she nodded at him and began to move toward the door.
My eyes remained on her, then my mind began to wonder about what she was hiding underneath that typical non-descript uniform. I’m sure she chose it to repel any advances on her job. Then again, maybe it was her way of dressing in general…or perhaps she played for the other team. I’m not sure why I gave a fuck to speculate in the first place, but there was an assurance about her that was quiet, but fierce. I felt as if I might be missing out on something.
I’ve always been a man who is led by my gut. I built my real estate business on it, led my fellow soldiers in combat on it, and landed where I currently am due to it. Ms. Brandi Cruise…well, there was no way in fucking hell she’d be my bodyguard, so if I wanted to keep her around, the only other option was to put her skills to another use.
I sat down and, with my eyes still on her, drawled, “I know where you can put those womanly skills.”
She stopped walking, and at the same time Phil lifted his hand, as if to tell me to stop. I’m not sure why the fuck he thought I needed handling.
I did not.
“Sir,” he tried to interject, but I shot him a look, which translated to I will fire your ass right now.
“If you mean to insinuate that I could perform sexual favors, I will let you know that no such thing would ever happen. I’m allergic to dogs.”
The fuck?
One corner of my mouth quirked upward as I thought of the petite woman and her sassy-ass mouth.
“Actually…” I lifted a folder and held it out. “I was going to suggest that you guard my mother. She and I both need a bodyguard. The woman is very active and needs just as much protection as I do.”