The Bodyguard's Secret
Now, I sat with my friends who talked about less interesting things — a party at a new hotel, boys they've used or found disposable.
He still watched, paying more attention to their conversation than I did. I glanced over at him taking in his looks.
“Is he your bodyguard? I was wondering why he was standing there,” one of my friends, Rosie, said. I twirled my glass before taking a sip of my wine. I turned to face him.
“He is. After my attack, Daddy swore to get me one,” I explained.
The girls nodded, their faces awed at such greek- gods giving face.