01

RORY

I blink at my father, not sure that I just heard him correctly.

“Come again?”

“You’re getting a bodyguard.”

I blink again. “I’m not getting a bodyguard.”

“Okay.” He shrugs and I’m about to sigh out in relief that he’s letting this go so easily when he says, “I’m getting one for you.”

Oh my fuck—

“Elaine.” I turn to my father’s wife with pleading eyes. “Please tell my father that he’s being ridiculous.”

Elaine gives me a small sympathetic smile but that’s all I get from her. “I’m sorry, Rory, but my hands are tied on this matter.”

“Oh my God.” I fling my hands in the air and fall backwards on the couch. “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too far?”

Dad’s face scrunches up in a look that screams ‘what-the-fuck?’ and points a finger at himself. “I’m taking this too far?”

Okay, maybe he is not taking it too far.

Maybe it’s me who is downplaying it.

Four days ago, I’d been lingerie shopping with my best friend, Avery, when a bullet had sailed past my head. I’d been so shocked and confused by the sudden chaos that my feet had locked, gluing to the ground like two lead weights, unable to move. It was Avery that had screamed, probably thinking that I was the target of the shooter, and shoved me to the ground while several gunshots rang out.

My dad had freaked out when he’d called me, beyond pissed that he had to hear about the whole incident from the news and not from me, but this right here was why I didn’t tell him.

I’d known that he was going to react this way. That he was going to blow the whole thing out of proportions and assume that I was the shooter’s target.

When it comes to my safety, my father comes out with guns cocked, ready to fire. I don’t know if it’s because I’m his only child or if he is just that protective of everyone he cares about. Could be the latter or the former, I’m not sure, but the point remains that he reads too much into things and it’s frustrating sometimes.

I breathe out through my mouth and push my hair away from my face, trying to get my composure back.

I’m Rory. I can sweet talk my way out of any situation. I got this.

“Dad, I agree that this is an important issue and therefore should be treated as such,” I start, facing my dad. He nods like he’s happy I’m finally seeing things his way and I take that to mean that I’m going to win. “You’re not taking this too far at all. You’re only angry because you care about me. I get that.” He nods again, urging me to continue. “Here’s what I’ll do; I’ll promise to take care of myself better and to never put myself in situations like that ever again. How about that?” I hold myself back from pointing out that I never put myself in dangerous situations like that to begin with and that its the first time I’m being shot at, because, hello, I’m trying to win him over here.

Dad sighs and rises from the sofa, and I watch him walk over to the bar and pour himself a glass of scotch. My panicked eyes bounce from his back to Elaine, who has been sitting beside him on the sofa this entire time, watching the whole thing play out.

Why is he silent? I want to ask her.

This cannot be good. Quiet dad isn’t good dad.

When he turns back around and I see the expression on his face, I’m convinced that whatever he has to say is definitely something I do not want to hear.

“I’m sorry, love, but I can’t take your word for it.” The words have my shoulder sinking into the ground in defeat. “It’s not that I don’t trust that you’ll take your promise seriously; It’s because I know you and I know that sometimes, you can’t help it.”

The funny thing is I totally understand what he’s saying.

I could make the promise to him right now that I’m going to take my safety seriously but at the end of the day, I would end up doing something that would somehow lead me into a precarious situation. So it isn’t like I would deliberately break the promise—I would end up breaking it without meaning to.

People don’t call me wild and reckless for nothing. And by people, I mean bloggers.

“I…” I stare at my dad with a disbelieving look then turn to Elaine—who shrugs and gives me that same sympathetic smile. ”But a bodyguard?” I cry. “That just seems so…so…a lot.” I end up saying after trying to search for the right word. “What am I going to do with a bodyguard?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Dad announces with a smile on his face that looks a lot like he’s enjoying my current predicament. “Isn’t that the best part? He’s the one that does all the work while you just sit there and do nothing. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Oh My God. My father did not just say that.

Dad, oblivious to the twin looks of amusement on my and Elaine’s face—and also to the fact that what he just said was a double entendre—goes on. “He’ll go everywhere with you and he’s going to be reporting back to me in case anything happens. I’m already working on it as we speak, so don’t worry your pretty head. In fact, I already have a list of the best men lined up. I just have to pick out the perfect one and we’re all set.”

Wow. I never even had a shot at swaying him, did I?

“I don’t need to be babied,” I groan, covering my face with my palms. When did this turn into my life? “I’m twenty-three for fuc—fudge’s sake.”

My dad also doesn’t like me cursing when I’m around him. I’m pretty sure he’d rather I stop cursing completely but he knows that’s not possible, so he’s settled for restricting it as much as he can.

Dad’s expression softens. “I’m not trying to baby you, Rory, I’m trying to protect you. And since I’m not around to do it all the time, hiring a bodyguard is the next safest option.”

I understand where he’s coming from, I do. But I can’t stop thinking about how extra and unimportant a bodyguard is because I sure as hell don’t believe that my life is in danger. It’s so unlikely, I’d laughed out loud a few minutes later after the incident when Avery told me that the shooter had aimed the gun at me.

But my father believes that my life could be in danger and now he’s decided to hire a bodyguard to protect me because apparently, I’m just that important.

You are important. You’re Spencer Tremaine’s daughter.

A sigh escapes my lips as I tip my head back, staring at the ceiling.

I may not accept that I need a bodyguard, but I’m not going to argue with my father on it anymore. If he believes that I need a bodyguard, then I’m going to get one. Everything he’s doing is for my own safety and because he loves me. So I’m going to let him get away with this one.

Just this one.

I exhale and on that breath, all the fight leaves my body. “Okay, Dad. Hire a bodyguard.”