Her daughter was also a significant figure worldwide. Sarina Harmont was a philanthropist, art collector, politician, equestrian, and about a dozen other things. She and her husband made sizable contributions to dozens of agencies around the world and were the official ambassadors of Athea. The husband and wife duo beamed out of dozens of photographs on Google Images. Dancing at a ritzy Hollywood fundraiser. Sailing on the Mediterranean off the coast of Monte Carlo. Toasting a famous artist at a gallery opening. They sure seemed to get around. Or rather, did get around. On further examination, most of the pictures were attached to articles reporting the Prince’s death here in New York about a decade ago.
According to Wikipedia, they had two children. The older, a man around my age named Hendrik, was currently serving in Athea’s Air Force, flying search and rescue missions across the Alps. The younger, a daughter, was going to college in New York and apparently was the one currently occupying the Harmont Manor.
I spent some time finding out all I could about the girl, Cordelia Harmont. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be too much to find. She’d had grown up in a literal palace in Athea’s capitol city. After graduating from high school, she’d spent a year doing humanitarian work in India before moving to New York to pursue a political science degree at Columbia. Beyond the basics, there wasn’t much more to go on. She’d had a high profile but short lived relationship with Cooper Marson, a former child actor. It seemed like she was good friends with Diana Hargreaves, the American film princess, as Cordelia was photographed by the paparazzi frequently with her.
I studied the photographs that popped up. There were a few of her as a child next to her family, wearing poofy dresses and waving to the crowd, but I couldn’t see any good current photos of her. She seemed to enjoy her privacy as many celebrities who took up residency in New York did. The only ones I could find were those taken by paps of Diana, Cordelia in the background in dark sunglasses, trying to cover her face as she crossed the street or left a restaurant. She couldn’t cover the fact that she was beautiful, though. That would be more than a little distracting if my plan worked. I shoved the thought out of my mind. As beautiful as the princess was, the Crown still won the battle. I could already picture holding it in my hands. The thought made me salivate. Soon enough.
Even though Saul insisted that his guys were legit, I didn’t have a ton of hope that I’d land the job. It seemed easy. Really easy. Too easy. But much to my surprise, the following day I got an e-mail from Jackie Solomon asking to arrange a call.
We’d talked briefly. She asked me about my previous clients and confirmed my availability. Then she’d hired me over the phone. Surprised, I’d asked her if she had interviewed any other clients. She’d told me that the granddaughter’s bodyguard wasn’t that high on the list of important decisions she was making in preparation for the royal family’s arrival. No offense.
None was taken. I was too busy thanking whatever guardian angel, so long silent, had decided to pay me some attention for this once-in-a-lifetime job.
I’d asked her when I should come to the manor. She told me a time and that was the story of what led me to be following Cora Harmont’s perfect figure across the threshold that divided her fairy tale castle from the real world.
The paparazzi pictures hadn’t prepared me at all for our meeting.
Cora Harmont was a stunner and I could practically hear it in her voice as I stepped away from the window. A throaty drip of sugar, honey off the tongue, with the slight hint of an accent that she’d tried to suppress. English with a touch of Europe that invoked images of vineyards and castles and rolling hills of tulips creating a sweetness that I wanted to eat with a spoon. I got all of that in an instant and gave the window a wolfish grin. Maybe babysitting wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
Then I turned around and when we locked eyes across the room I felt the smile slide from my face. The physical reaction brought back too many painful memories to be fully comfortable. I hadn’t felt that jolt, that excitement, that tightness in my chest (and in my pants) since another dark haired beauty had crossed my path five years ago and made me her accomplice in love and crime. The image of Katrina flashed before my eyes and I beat her away, fighting nausea and hoping it wasn’t showing on my face.
Cora Harmont was staring at me with an odd expression in her large blue eyes and I hoped it wasn’t because I was tongue tied for the first time in - years? Decades? Ever?
I remembered approaching her, exchanging pleasantries, but my attention was more on her dark hair, thrown into a bun. The way the loose strands fell down around her neck and brushed at golden skin…
I was relieved when she went in to see Jackie. I could feel sweat prickling at my back and I desperately needed to pull myself together.
You’ve seen hundreds, thousands, of hot girls. This one is no different and actually really different because if you want this job to work than she is completely off limits. You can look, but you can’t touch. I made the decision firmly in my mind lest my future self tried to decide that sex would lead to more access in the house. Thoughts of Cora were too similar to thoughts of Katrina and Katrina was as much a liability in my mind as she’d turned out to be in real life. Keep your mind off women and on the Crown. After this is done you can hook up with as many beautiful women as you want. With that promise to myself, I had hardened my face and entered the room when Jackie mentioned my name.
Now though, not even ten minutes later as we walked out of the house, I wasn’t quite sure what to think of Cora. Whatever Jackie had told her had obviously soured her to me. It only took a moment of consideration to realize what the problem was. Cora had been informed that I wasn’t just some good looking guy in her dining room, that I was a bodyguard, someone who worked for her. Obviously that meant I was beneath her. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I mean, look at the house she lived in. Look at her title. What I had on my hands was a spoiled rich girl, a blue blood, someone who might as well live in a completely separate universe than the one I occupied.
She looked over her shoulder as I let the door close behind me, checking to see if I was still there. Prepare for disappointment, Princess, I thought. I was always going to be there. At least, until the moment to grab the Crown was right.
We passed the guard, whom Cora ignored. I nodded at him, a fit guy with a military crew cut, and got a scowl in return. I made a mental note of a possible problem for later and hurried to catch up with her.
She stopped in the mouth of the alley, pulled out her phone and sent a text, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye as she typed.
“Who are you texting?” I asked.
She looked surprised that I’d asked. Maybe I shouldn’t have. I tried to picture the bodyguards I’d snuck past on previous heists. They were all tall and bulky and wore dark shades and scowls. If I was going to play the part of the professional, I should probably act like one. But, at the same time, silent and scowly would get quite boring after a while.
“I’m telling my friend that I’m coming by,” she said after a moment. She slipped a pair of sunglasses on and stepped out onto the sidewalk, walking quickly.
I suspected I would be getting to see Diana Hargreaves’s apartment. I’d have to keep my hands in check. She was sure to have plenty of valuables to choose from.
“Who was the guy in the security booth?” I asked for lack of better conversation. Cora seemed very much intent on ignoring my presence. Maybe I should stay silent, but an odd compulsion forced me to talk, if just to see her mouth scrunch in irritation.
For a moment I thought she was going to ignore me, but then she said, “Scott. He’s ex-military.” As an afterthought, she added, “He’s new.” I could hear distaste in her voice.
Ex-military, huh?
“You think he’s going to do a good job protecting you?” I asked.
I heard rather than saw her eyes roll at my comment. “As good a job as you could,” she said. “Were you in the military?”
She considered me through the dark lenses as we stopped at a stoplight. “I’m not sure I want my bodyguard to be having ‘fun’.”
“You don’t want a bodyguard anyway, so why not?” I asked. “I thought you could take care of yourself.” I was pushing it, but I couldn’t help myself.
“I can,” she said. “That doesn’t mean you should be unprofessional.”
“Oh I’m highly professional. I can deal with threats before you even know you’re in danger.”
“I’m sure you can,” she said sarcastically.
“In fact, I just did,” I said, fighting a grin.
“I didn’t see anything.”
“You’re just proving my point,” I said.
She stared at me and I couldn’t keep the smile retained any longer. Her mouth set and she started walking faster. I kept grinning at her back and hurried to follow her into the subway. This was going to be more fun than I thought.
She ignored me all the way through the station while I tried to think of something else to ask her to get under her skin. Once we were sitting down in the car, a legitimate question popped into my mind.
“Don’t you have a car?” I asked.
“Why would I have a car?” she snapped, obviously still annoyed. “It’s New York.”
“I thought all rich people in the city owned a car. Or at least Ubered everywhere.”
“I don’t Uber,” she said flatly.
“Oh, sorry. Took a limo everywhere.”
She looked like she wanted to hit me. “I don’t ride in limos. And I’m also not rich.”
“Um, I don’t know if you saw your house or not, but I have some news for you.”
Her jaw hardened. “My mother is rich. She pays for the house and the guards because she wants me to live there. If it were up to me, I’d live in Brooklyn.”
“So you have a job?” I asked. “Because it ain’t cheap in Brooklyn either.”
She glared at the floor of the train. “She won’t let me get a job,” she said.
“So you live in a palace, don’t work, and have private security. It’s starting to look like you might be rich, Princess.”
She whipped her head towards me and said, “Do not call me Princess. And fine, maybe I have money, but I’m not rich like Diana is rich. I’m rich because I have to be.”
I smirked. What a rich kid thing to say. I thought back to my own upbringing, the jobs I’d had to work just to feed myself and my mother during her last days. Wealth was always the end game for me and once I’d gotten it, I’d never apologized for having it. In fact, this might have been the first time I’d entered the subway in the last couple years.
“You should own it,” I told her. “Most people would kill to be in your position. Why not take advantage of it?”
An answer flitted across her face, but she chose not to voice it. Instead, she looked pointedly out the opposite window, ignoring me. The train rumbled along the tracks, taking us downtown towards Chelsea.
“Are we going to visit your boyfriend?” I asked.
Cora continued to stare straight ahead. “No, I’m going to see my friend, Diana.”
“So you do have a boyfriend?” I asked.
“What does that matter to you?” she asked.
“Statistically, kidnappings happen most frequently by someone the victim knows.”
“You think my boyfriend would kidnap me in exchange for the Crown?” she asked incredulously, forgetting she was trying to ignore me. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe,” I said, mock serious. “But I don’t make the statistics.”
Cora looked at me like she’d never seen anyone like me before. And not in a good way. I couldn’t tell if she knew I was fucking with her or not.
“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, so you’re clear there,” she said. “Although maybe you should use your expertise to check into my brother. Or my mother. Who knows what motives those two could have?”
“I just might,” I said, settling back in my seat and grinning in spite of myself. I was pushing my luck, but somehow I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut. It was like being a kid and trying to climb to the highest branch to impress the girls watching. You knew it was stupid and risky, but you couldn’t quite keep yourself from reaching for one more branch. Because even if you fell and broke every damn bone in your body, at least they were paying attention.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cora
I rapped quickly on Diana’s door and waited impatiently for her to let me in. Behind me, Alex Flynn’s looming presence made me want to turn around and shove him, just to get him a little bit further away from me.
“Hey-” Diana started as she pulled open the door. She stopped when she saw Flynn behind me. Her eyes widened as if to take more of him in at once.
I pushed past her. When Flynn started to follow, I held my hand up. “No, you can stay out there.”
“I’m supposed to be by your side at all times,” he said, that irritating smile still on his lips.
“I guess you’re not going to be able to do your job then,” I shot back. “I’m not in danger here. You can wait in the hall.”
Flynn opened his mouth to argue, but Diana, reading my not-so-subtle cues said, “I have twenty-four hour security on my door and the best locks money can buy. Nobody’s in here but me.”
The mouth shut. For once. I felt a vicious pleasure at seeing him defeated. “Fine,” he said. “But I’ll be-”
I closed the door in his face, cutting off his sentence, and turned to Diana. “I have a problem.”
“We have very different definitions of a problem,” Diana said, looking at the door like she could see Flynn’s perfect face straight through the wood. “Holy shit, that shouldn’t be legal.”
I was annoyed that my friend couldn’t tell what a piece of shit Flynn was, but then, I hadn’t realized either at first. Not that it’d taken very long for him to show his nature. If I could have gotten away with murdering him on the subway, I’d have done it in a heartbeat. Princess? How dare he.
“Yeah, don’t get caught up in the pretty face,” I snapped, walking into her living room and flopping down on the couch. “He’s driving me up the wall and it hasn’t even been an hour yet!”
“What is he?” she asked, joining me on the couch. She still sounded a little awe-struck. “I mean, why is he with you?”
“My wonderful mother has decided that I’m in danger now and that I need a bodyguard. What she really wants is someone to spy on me while she’s in the city. See what I get up to while she’s close enough to deal with me herself.”
Diana’s eyes bugged. “Your mother hired him? Does she know what he looks like?”
“I doubt it. There’s no way she actually interviewed him herself. No, it was probably the woman she hired to get the house together for the visit. And she’s a piece of work herself.” I filled Diana in on my talk with Jackie and the horrendous subway ride with Flynn.
“You could always move in with me,” Diana suggested.
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I don’t want to look like I’m hiding. Besides, they’re coming in a week. I can last that long.”
Diana cast another look toward the door. “Are you sure he was vetted well? He doesn’t seem like any bodyguard I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m definitely talking to that Jackie woman when I get back and complaining. We live in New York. There has to be about a hundred better options than him.”
“Maybe not,” Diana said. “Maybe he’s like some kind of kung fu master or something and he’s cocky cause people hire him for his skills not his personality.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, my mother is not hiring someone special just for me. It’s much more likely that she hired the cheapest nobody that was available at the drop of a hat because he can’t keep a job.”
Diana stood up and went to the kitchen, grabbing some snacks out of the cabinets a
nd pouring them into bowls. “Well maybe that’s even better then, huh?” she said over the partition.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If he sucks at his job then it’ll be easier to slip away from him.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “And do what exactly? My mother’s going to be really disappointed when she finds out my life is just as boring as I make it out to be.”
Diana didn’t say anything as she came back to the couch, bowls in hand, but one look at her face and I could tell she had some news of her own.
“Why?” I asked slowly. “What do you have planned?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said, popping a couple pretzels in her mouth, voice dripping with fake indifference. “Just that Derek got invited to a party hosted by Sarah Summers next week.”
My eyes rolled in spite of myself. “Oh, come on. Sarah Summers? This is just one of those crappy Hollywood parties he’s always dragging you along to that you hate.”
Diana held up a hand as if to physically block my disdain. “Look, I know we hate these things. I’m the first to admit I don’t want to spend a night with a bunch of B-listers staring at my tits and trying to weasel into my Dad’s next movie.” She batted away my attempt to cut in. “But, hold on a minute, this is not like one of those parties. This is Sarah freaking Summers. I don’t know if she came through Athea when you were in high school, but I went to not one, not two, but three stops on her Blue tour. I was practically a roadie. I got to meet her backstage and it was the highlight of my youth.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the eagerness on Diana’s face. She was a fan and who was I to object? “You sure you want to go to her party though?” I asked. “What if she’s doing coke off people’s stomaches? Could kill the whole illusion.”
“If she is than it better be off mine,” Diana said. “I want to go, but I can’t just go with Derek. He’s going to embarrass me anyway, I’ve accepted that, but I don’t want to be standing next to him when it happens.”
“She probably wouldn’t even want me there,” I said. “We don’t know each other. She doesn’t even know who I am.”
The Professional Page 5