by Wade, Cara
“And that’s it, Mr. Chandler! We’re glad to have you on our team,” Mercy said. “Your first task will be accompanying Samantha home for dinner.”
Harvey smiled and stood to shake hands with Mercy and Roger. He then turned and walked Samantha to the door. Mercy and Roger said their goodbyes and parted ways with them, heading for the opposite end of the building. Harvey stood tall next to Samantha, his chin at the height of her forehead. She looked up at him and he smiled, motioning towards the door.
“Ma’am,” he said.
“I thought you would lead,” she said while pulling out a pair of sunglasses.
“I would like to keep you in my vision,” he said.
Samantha was quiet as they exited the building and approached the limo that was waiting on the curb. Harvey instinctively opened the door, scanned the area, and then climbed into the car behind her. His eyes remained fixed on the windows, a habit he had picked up during his career.
“So, where are you from?” Samantha asked.
“I was born in New Jersey,” he replied.
“Oh, wow. I was born in New York,” she said.
“That’s pretty close to my hometown,” he said while watching the windows. “Did you grow up there?”
“For the most part. I grew up everywhere because my parents were always relocating,” she replied.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“My mother worked as an artist restoring historic houses all up the coast and my father did the architecture for them. They were quite a team,” she replied.
“Do they still do that?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” she replied with a chuckle. “They’ve long since retired. Occasionally, my mother will pick up a historical artifact to restore, but she mostly just likes to paint.”
“It’s lovely to be so well off,” he commented.
“I suppose it is,” she said.
“Well, you’re very well off, aren’t you?” he asked.
“I am, but I like to share my wealth,” she replied. “Don’t you?”
Harvey shrugged. He hadn’t given it much thought lately because he had been out of work for so long. While working for the wealthy had refined his tastes, he hadn’t necessarily picked up any expensive habits. Bourbon was always a favorite, and he certainly preferred the comfort of having privacy, but he couldn’t keep living on his savings.
“What about your family?” Samantha asked.
Harvey looked at her and smiled warmly.
“They don’t really speak to me,” he replied.
“That’s awful,” she said while cocking her head to the side with a concerned glance. “Why is that?”
“I, uh...” Harvey trailed off, looking back out the window.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” she said quickly.
“It’s fine. You’re just curious,” he said.
His eyes peeled away from the window and offered her concerned look a smile which she mimicked almost immediately. They remained mostly silent until they pulled up to her mansion, her butler opening the door as soon as the car came to a stop.
“Sir,” said the butler with a slight bow.
“Thank you,” Harvey said.
The butler nodded politely. Harvey turned and extended his hand to Samantha who blushed slightly while accepting it. While helping her from the car, he peered around the large courtyard and studied the exposed areas. There were a few spaces where he wanted to plant cameras in order to keep an eye on the property.
Inside, Samantha introduced him to the staff. The butler was introduced as Oscar and her personal maid was introduced as Rose. They were escorted into the main living area and Samantha offered him a cup of tea.
“No, thank you,” Harvey said.
“Would you prefer coffee?” she asked.
“I don’t drink caffeine,” he replied.
Samantha raised her eyebrows.
“Well, I hope you aren’t opposed to joining me for dinner. I would love to know more about you,” she said with a grin.
Harvey nodded politely.
“I’d be happy to,” he said.
“Oscar, could you see Harvey to his room?” Samantha asked the butler standing in the corner of the room.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
Oscar approached, bowed his head, and motioned for the bodyguard to follow. Outside the main living room was a lavish stairway leading up to the second floor. Harvey followed Oscar up the stairs, almost unmoved by the expanse of her home.
“This particular home was built in 1953 by a famous musician named Ganges Bartholomew. He was known for his extensive jazz parties that would go on for days, sometimes lasting nearly a week,” Oscar explained. “The third floor wasn’t added until his successor in the 70’s when retro parties were in.”
Harvey smiled.
“Does Miss Miles like to throw parties?” he asked.
“Not anymore. She has given up such a lifestyle in favor of her own health,” Oscar said.
Harvey remained silent.
“I’m joking, sir,” Oscar said.
Harvey laughed politely and followed the butler down towards the east wing.
“This is the jazz wing. Miss Miles admires the original musicians and keeps their portraits on display. Sometimes, she’ll have us play her jazz vinyl in this hall alone during her summer parties,” Oscar said.
“This is quite a collection,” Harvey admired. “I am a jazz man myself.”
“Then you and the miss will get along very nicely,” Oscar said. “Here we are, sir.”
Oscar opened a cream white door and motioned inside, waiting for Harvey to enter the room before following.
“There are fresh towels in the bathroom and pressed suits in the closet. I can send a tailor at the end of the week to have them fitted for you. Do you need anything, sir?” asked Oscar.
“No, thank you, Oscar,” Harvey replied.
“Very well. The lines on the phone next to your bed are all connected to the maids and to me. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Oscar said.
He shut the door and left Harvey in the silence of the large bedroom. Harvey looked around at the items decorating the room, particularly at the window. While studying the glass, he noticed he had a better view of the courtyard. It put him at ease.
From next door, he heard the sound of pipes running and water hitting tile. Whomever occupied the room was showering. After a few minutes, he heard muffled humming and realized Samantha was in the adjoining room. They had strategically placed him next to her which also put him at ease. His job required constant surveillance of his client and being so close to her would make it easier to protect her in any moment of danger.
Hopefully, it will never come to that, he thought. But I’ve learned to expect the unexpected.
***
Samantha traced the edge of her wine glass timidly while waiting patiently for her food. Across from her sat Harvey who sipped Bourbon from a crystal tumbler, one of the ones she had imported from a famous Swedish artist named Jens Wallenberg. Watching him carefully, she set down her glass and offered a polite smile.
“So, how is your room?” she asked.
“It’s lovely,” Harvey replied.
“Do you have everything you need?” she asked.
“Absolutely. You’ve been very hospitable. I appreciate it,” he replied.
Samantha nodded with satisfaction.
“Good,” she said. “I hope you enjoy Agador’s cooking. He’s quite the chef around here.”
Harvey smiled.
“I’m sure I will,” he said. “I’m not a picky eater.”
“Well, he can make you anything you like during the day while we’re here. He loves to cook,” she said.
“I’m sure he does,” he commented.
Samantha fell silent for a moment, unsure of where to take their conversation. Harvey wasn’t particularly chatty which was a common characteristic in most guards she hired. Many of the ones she used on
tour were temporary hires and none of them ever spoke much. She was glad he participated, but wished he would say more.
“So, do you have any hobbies, Mr. Chandler?” she asked.
“Please, call me Harvey,” he insisted.
“Of course,” she said with a nod.
“I do. I like to feed the birds,” he said.
Samantha giggled.
“Really?” she asked.
He stared at her with bright blue eyes and a sure smile.
“Yes,” he replied. “It tends to put me at ease.”
“Well, then you might like our backyard. The maze in the back offers a great deal of solitude and there are many different birds that come through,” she said.
“I would like that,” he commented.
Before Samantha could say much else, Agador entered the room with a few servants pushing carts and presented their meal.
“Dinner is served,” he announced with confidence.
He bowed as the dishes were revealed: fresh lobster with a side of butter, roasted shrimp, clams with limes, and various other seafood dishes including calamari.
“Thank you, Agador,” Samantha said. “Please, dig in, Harvey.”
Harvey nodded and looked around at the delectable dishes, likely unable to decide which one to eat first. Samantha served herself clams as she typically did while picking up a few pieces of shrimp. As they ate, she watched Harvey out of the corner of her eye, studying the way he moved.
He was rather proper, making sure to keep his elbows from the table and using his fork with the utmost care. Hardly a noise came from the other side of the long table. She didn’t expect him to speak while eating. In fact, it was rather nice to have company when she usually ate alone. She would eat with her agents on occasion, but having company at home made her mansion feel less empty.
It seemed silly to feel lonely in such a well-occupied place. She had plenty of servants surrounding her at all times, yet she felt like she was predominantly left to herself. They offered her privacy which she appreciated, but it felt strange being all alone. She missed having someone by her side.
Harvey seemed content to offer her company and she was more than grateful for that. She’d never had a personal guard before. She wasn’t sure if this was crossing boundaries or simply being courteous.
“How is it?” she asked after eating for a bit.
Harvey nodded and hummed with satisfaction.
“It’s quite amazing,” he said. “Likely the best shrimp I’ve ever had.”
“Agador certainly prides himself on his cooking,” she said with a nervous chuckle.
Why did I say that? She thought. It sounded so silly coming out of my mouth.
After swallowing her food, she smiled.
“Would you like some more Bourbon?” she asked.
Harvey shook his head and Samantha nodded, looking down at her mostly empty plate. Her stomach was nearly full and her head felt fuzzy, like she might fall asleep at any given moment. The wine must be getting to her. While reaching for her glass of water, she accidentally knocked it over and Harvey stood immediately to help her clean it up.
“Oh, it’s alright,” she said while dabbing at the table with her napkin.
“Allow me. Please,” he insisted.
Samantha stepped back and flushed a bit. She felt like such a klutz. As Harvey cleaned up the mess, she felt woozy again and grabbed the top of the chair.
“I think I’ll retire for the evening. I’m exhausted from the day,” she said.
Harvey turned after cleaning up the mess.
“Would you like me to walk you up the stairs?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” she replied.
Harvey held out his arm and Samantha took it gratefully, walking carefully up the stairs and to her bedroom next to his.
“Feel free to continue eating dinner,” she said.
“I’m quite stuffed. I think I’ll retire as well. Remember, the panic button is on your phone. Don’t be afraid to use it,” he instructed.
“Of course,” she said. “Good night, Harvey.”
“Good night, Samantha.”
***
Sunlight filtered through the French windows as Samantha stepped over the soft, fluffy carpet to head to the bathroom. It had been a few weeks since Harvey arrived and she was becoming accustomed to his constant presence, even preferring it to her usual round of friends from her innermost social circle. They were all affluent, beautiful, and competitive as far as gaining more wealth, but Harvey was so simple.
She admired the way he gracefully moved through existence, how his body seemed so relaxed even though his muscles were taut and defined. The previous day was spent walking through the garden and she watched as he gently laid seeds on the ground for birds to eat. She felt like a beauty watching a beast, but he wasn’t at all clumsy. His motions were deliberate, large hands reaching out for the little birds to dance in his palms. It made her smile.
Cold water spouted from the faucet over the tub and Samantha waited until it turned warm before stepping into the stream. As the warm water caressed her body, she relaxed her shoulders and shut her eyes. She leaned her head back to enjoy the sensation of the water hugging her body, healing her sore muscles from the previous day’s work.
The new dance routine she was working on was arduous, taking up a good portion of her work day with practice. She wanted to prepare as much as possible before resuming her tour and adding a new dance routine would give her a little bit of an edge. It would be great to give the fans something different, especially since she had changed up the route of her tour.
Part of her still felt guilty about canceling, but her therapist insisted it was the best course of action for what she had experienced. As she ran her fingers through her hair, she considered her schedule for the day. She had a meeting at 10:00 AM, a luncheon with her agents around noon, and then another round of dance practice combined with singing practice around 2:00 PM. She had a busy day and could already feel her muscles tensing as a result.
Feeling a bit more refreshed, Samantha turned off the water and pulled the shower curtain, watching clouds of steam roll up from the porcelain tub. There was no towel on the ground. Her maid must have taken it to the wash before she even woke up, but she didn’t think anything of it. While lifting her other leg over the tub, she lost her balance and fell hard on the marble floor, releasing a shriek as she went down.
A loud grunt escaped her lips as her ankle twisted and her shoulder met cold marble. Pain shot through her chest and she heaved, momentarily incapable of taking a deep breath. Without warning, the bathroom door flew open causing Samantha to scream.
“Samantha! Are you alright?”
It was Harvey. His eyes were aimed at the ceiling as Samantha snatched the towel from the toilet and covered herself.
“I’m fine! Get out!” she cried.
The door swung shut loudly, echoing in the miniature room. She felt flushed all over. The pain was still buzzing around her shoulder and her ankle was pulsing with a stinging sensation. It looked puffy. As she covered herself with the towel, she heard a knock come from the door.
“Samantha, my only goal is to help you,” Harvey said from the other side.
His voice was muffled slightly by the door.
“I know,” she called weakly. “But I’m naked.”
“I’ve seen many of my clients indisposed, some of them in positions I wish I could forget,” Harvey explained.
Samantha gave a painful giggle and hugged the towel around her body, looking down at her legs that were glistening with water. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. After a moment, she nodded even though he couldn’t see it.
“Alright,” she said in a low voice. “Alright, come inside.”
The door opened slowly and Harvey kept his eyes to the floor, carefully slipping his arms under Samantha’s body in order to carry her to the bed. She watched his eyes the whole time. The sparkling blue remained fixed on the bed instea
d of her, laying her gently on the cushioned silk and bringing the sheet up to her neck.
“I’ll call your doctor,” he said while taking out his phone. “Stay here.”
She stared at him for a moment and he offered a goofy grin to which she shook her head.
“You are just a peach, aren’t you?” she teased.
Harvey smiled and headed for the door where he encountered the concerned maid, Rose. She heard them whisper briefly before she appeared.
“Good morning, Miss Miles. I heard you had an accident. May I help you get dressed?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” Samantha replied.
“What would you like to wear today, ma’am?” Rose asked while walking to the ivory dresser.
“Could you grab a maxi dress for me, Rose? I don’t know if I’m going to be walking much today and I want to be comfortable,” Samantha replied.
“Of course, ma’am,” Rose said.
While she went to the closet to sort through the dozens of dresses Samantha owned, Harvey reappeared with his arms folded over his chest.
“So, the doctor is on her way and she says not to move,” Harvey informed her.
“Oh, really?” she said with a grin.
“Really,” he replied with a shrug.
“I think you both are just messing with me. You know I can’t really move after that fall,” she said, twirling a lock of wet blonde hair around her finger.
Harvey laughed lightly.
“I thought it might make you laugh,” he said.
“Only slightly,” she said playfully.
He nodded.
“Would you prefer a real joke then?” he asked.
Samantha shrugged.
“Sure. Why not?” she asked rhetorically.
“What do you say to an orange that works out every day?” he asked.
Samantha shrugged with her arms crossed, waiting for a response as Rose put a few dresses out for her to pick from.
“You could say he pulps iron,” he continued.
With strained effort, Samantha attempted to stifle the cackle that was threatening to surface. She lifted a dress, threaded it between her fingers, and then doubled over while holding her injured shoulder. As she laughed, Harvey sat down in the love seat next to her bedside table.