Ninja Girl
Page 7
Omma nodded stiffly. “Thank you, but I don’t see your point.”
“It’s simple really.” Mrs. Stryker folded her hands in her lap. “Despite the benefits of attending one of the state’s top-rated private schools, Crispin Catholic Day School doesn’t allow personal security for their students. They’re afraid of what people might say. The principal, Mr. Orsino, thinks it’d make the school look bad, unsafe.”
“That’s because it would,” I said. “They might as well post a sign that says, ‘Hey, I know you’re spending like a trillion dollars, but we can’t protect your kids. Sorry.’“
Ash scoffed. “Orsino just doesn’t want to look like a dumbass in front of the Trustees.”
“Language,” Mrs. Stryker tsked.
“It would make them look inadequate,” Omma agreed.
“Exactly,” she said. “I couldn’t care less about the school’s rules. I’m afraid for my son’s life. I want to give him the best security possible which is why I’ve come to you. I need someone capable, but young. Someone who could pass as a student. I’m willing to pay very well for the service, and of course, their tuition would be covered.”
“I see.” Omma leaned back in her chair, considering. “Did you have someone in mind? I have several advanced students who would meet your qualifications.” She held out a hand. “Bae Park, for example, is one of our top teachers. At 21, he’s already graduated, but I’m sure he could pass as a student.”
Ash and Bae Bae looked at each other.
“No way,” they said in unison.
The horrified looks on their faces made me laugh.
“Actually, I was thinking of someone else.” Mrs. Stryker’s eyes twinkled as she flashed a smile. “If she’s willing, I’d love for your daughter to take the job.”
The laughter dried up as I choked. “Me? You want me to do it?”
“Why not?” she said. “You’ve already saved him once.”
“But I’m not qualified,” I said. The stress must’ve gotten to her. There was no way Ash’s mom could be saying what I thought she was saying.
“Mrs. C, you can’t be serious.” Smith’s tone was incredulous. “You can’t hire her to guard Ash. She’s just a girl for Christsakes.”
I nailed him with a stank eye. “I don’t see what me being a girl has to do with anything.”
“Me either.” Mrs. Stryker slanted her eyes at him. “Let me ask you a question, Agent Smith. What’s the number one rule of being a bodyguard?”
“Well,” Smith said, cheeks red from being put on the spot, “that’s hard to say, Mrs. C. There are so many rules, and they’re all very important.”
She turned to me. “Snow? Same question.”
“Always have eyes on your body,” I said automatically. It’d been one of the first things my mom taught me. When Mrs. Stryker cocked a brow, I added, “It means never lose sight of the client. How can you guard someone if you can’t see them? You can’t.”
Looking satisfied, Mrs. Stryker nodded.
“Everyone knows that,” Smith muttered. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
He was wrong. It proved he wasn’t qualified either, but I didn’t say so. Didn’t have to. Smith had made a fool of himself.
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” Omma said. “Snow’s trained in martial arts since she was in diapers, but she’s never had to do anything like this.”
“Think on it tonight,” Mrs. Stryker said, standing, “and let me know by Friday. Like I said, I’d offer Snow a very nice salary for guarding my son. It would only be during school hours. I have other guards who can take over after that.”
Smith seemed to settle down a bit, but I was reeling.
“Mrs. Stryker, I can’t be Ash’s bodyguard,” I said.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because…I just can’t.” I stared at the boy in question. He hadn’t said a word. “Ash? Don’t you have anything to say about this?”
He looked up suddenly. “I think it’s a great idea.”
“You do?” I asked. “Good Lord, why?”
In answer, he simply shook his head. “Anything that involves you guarding my body can’t be all bad now, can it?”
“Ugh,” I said, eyes closing as he shot me that bad boy grin. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t take this seriously.”
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, you should have.”
“Call me when you’ve made a decision.” I opened my eyes in time to see Mrs. Stryker pass over a business card. “If I use my connections, we can have her enrolled by Monday. A diploma from CCDS would be sure to get her into a good college.”
“My Snow-Soon graduated a year early,” Omma said, leaving out the fact that I’d done it so I could help her at The Academy. Money had always been tight. That was the only reason I was even considering Mrs. Stryker’s crazy proposal.
“Perfect.” Ash’s mom was apparently a hugger because she embraced me a second time then stepped back. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Snow. I hope to see you again real soon.”
“Nice meeting you, too,” I said as she walked out the door.
Ash stopped in front of me.
I waited.
“What no hug?” he said.
It was my turn to shake my head. “Bye, Ash.”
He smiled at Omma. “Great talking to you Mrs. Lee. Now I can see where Snow gets it.” Before I could ask what the heck that meant, he said, “I’ll be waiting on your answer, ninja girl.”
And then he was gone.
That night I had a lot to discuss with Bruce. I told him about Mrs. Stryker’s offer, and Omma’s odd reaction to Ash. Her blush spoke volumes about the guy’s ability to charm the socks off any woman. Bruce was such a great listener I even opened up about my fears—the worst being that if Mrs. Stryker was right, and they were being targeted, somehow Ash might get hurt. And I’d be responsible.
“So, what should I do?” I asked.
Because what it came down to—what it always came down to—was this: What would Bruce do?
The poster on my bedroom door couldn’t answer, of course, but I knew what he’d say if it could. Real living is living for others. I shuddered as the realization sunk in.
“Me?” I said incredulous. “A bodyguard?”
Not just any bodyguard, but Ash’s bodyguard? My picture of Bruce seemed to nod back at me.
Ah hell, Bruce Lee had a sick sense of humor.
CHAPTER 8: ASH
I couldn’t believe it. She agreed. Mrs. Lee had called Mom up Friday to make it official.
Snow was going to be my bodyguard.
Holy shit. I’d get to see her eight hours a day, five days a week, without looking like a total stalker. Could life get any better? I got the answer Monday morning when I picked her up. It was Snow’s first day at CCDS, and I wanted to make sure she arrived in style. The engine to my Challenger was still hot as I got out of the car and turned to make my way up to The Academy. She and her mom lived in an apartment above the gym.
I didn’t make it three steps.
My heart stuttered, eyes widening, as the door swung open, and Snow walked out.
“Damn,” I whispered.
Thank God, for whoever invented short skirts and knee socks. Had to be a guy, I thought. Only a male could appreciate this. My eyes raked over her. God, her legs. She kept trying to pull her skirt down, but it was no use. Snow had the kind of legs that’d make a man do crazy things. Strong and smooth, like her hair which was down again. I wanted to run my hands through it. Her new look inspired lots of wants. My mind was running wild. She was nearly at the car before I snapped out of it.
I ran around to her side, wanting to be a gentleman and open her door. But I was glad she couldn’t read my thoughts. There was nothing gentlemanly about them.
“Hey, I—”
Snow held up a hand. “If you say one word about this stupid uniform, I’ll kill you.”
“Can’t do that,” I said with a grin. “You’re my bodygua
rd now, remember? You can’t kill the guy you’re supposed to be guarding, wouldn’t be right.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered, tugging on the skirt again.
“And as far as that uniform goes…” I whistled long and low.
“What?” My ninja girl gave me the fiercest scowl I’d ever seen. “You don’t have to say it. I know I look like an idiot.”
Was she crazy?
“You look fine as hell,” I said seriously.
Her blush was the prettiest thing I’d seen. She said, “Whatever,” but at least it got her to stop messing with that skirt. I was already having trouble. If she kept it up, no way I’d be able to think straight. Looking away, Snow checked out my ride. Her eyes warmed, and I knew she liked what she saw before she said so.
“Nice wheels,” she smiled, one hand moving to slide over the paint. “Black with silver stripes? Somebody wants to be a racecar driver when he grows up.”
I cleared my throat. “If you keep petting my car like that, I’ll have to get a restraining order.”
She snapped her hand back and looked up at me, appalled. The fire in her eyes matched what I knew of her perfectly. I had the urge to kiss her right then.
But she’d probably slap me.
“You ready?” I asked, holding the door open.
“Yeah,” Snow said. “Um…thanks for, you know, the door.”
“No problem.”
Once she was in, I did a quick sprint to my side. The whole ride to CCDS I gripped the wheel tight, trying to keep my attention on the road while Snow fiddled with the controls in the car. The girl just couldn’t sit still. She turned on the radio, made a face at one of my favorite Rascal Flatts songs, and searched my iPod till she found something she liked. The window went up and down next. The air conditioner was put on full blast then turned off abruptly.
“So,” she said, “you pay for this car yourself or was it a gift from your parents?”
I didn’t miss the sarcasm. Shooting her a look, I said, “I did. Worked three whole summers mowing lawns, saving up for the down payment. It was worth every penny.”
“Oh.” She bounced a bit in her seat, then, “Well, it’s a very nice car. My butt feels like I’m sitting on a cloud.”
I laughed. “Yeah, Veronica has great seats.”
“Veronica?”
“Yep,” I said and tapped the dash. “She’s got the best paint job on the block, gets great mileage, and always takes real good care of me and my passengers.”
Snow gave me this blank face. It reminded me a lot of her mom. “You named your car Veronica.”
I nodded.
“That’s messed up.”
“Would it help if I told you I named her after my first girlfriend?”
“I bet you met her on the playground in second grade.” Snow scoffed, but I saw a smile peeking through.
“It was kindergarten actually.”
That earned a full on laugh. “You’ve been breaking hearts that long, huh?”
“Veronica broke up with me,” I said. “I wouldn’t share my lunch one day, so she just walked up, threw mud in my face and called me a loser.”
“Ouch,” Snow said.
“I was hungry.” I shrugged. “And she just wanted me for my PB&J. So, your mom said you’ve been doing martial arts since you were a baby. Have you always lived at The Academy?”
“Yeah, sixteen years,” she said.
“That’s a long time.” I grinned. “You must be amazing.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“That’s an understatement. I’m sure you could decimate an army with those fists.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Compliment me,” she said as I made the turn into the CCDS parking lot. “No need to butter me up. I’m here to guard you no matter what. It’s my job.”
They’d saved us a spot right in the back of the senior lot. Perfect. Students were already piling in. We were early, and it sounded like Snow and I needed to have a talk. I parked, pulled up the emergency break. Turning, I gave her my full attention—and tried to keep my eyes off her legs. It was embarrassing how hard it was. “I wasn’t buttering you up. I’ve seen you in action, remember? That was just me stating a fact, ninja girl.”
She raised a brow. “And stop it with the ninja girl crap. We don’t want people getting the wrong idea about us.”
Fighting a smile, I said, “And what idea is that, Snow?”
“I don’t know, Ash.” Even when she said it mean like that, I liked hearing her say my name. “It’s going to be hard enough explaining why I’m always following you around.”
“I’ll just tell them you’re my cousin.”
“Yeah,” she laughed, “because we look so much alike. That’ll work like a charm.”
I couldn’t stop myself from giving her a once-over. “Maybe second cousins.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “You look at all your second cousins like that?”
“I might if they looked like you.”
Snow sighed and hopped out of the car. When I met her at the hood, I pulled the bag off her shoulder and slung it over my own. That only seemed to piss her off more.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Oh no,” she mumbled. “I’m just in this dumb uniform, repeating senior year at a snobby private school that wouldn’t admit me even if Omma could afford a semester’s worth of tuition. You keep sneaking glances at my legs when you think I’m not looking. Oh yeah, and I’ve got to make sure nothing happens to you or I’ll be fired. Everything’s just peachy.”
“I can’t believe you just called me out like that.”
“Well, it’s true isn’t it?”
“Not all of it,” I said. “Nothing’s going to happen, Snow. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Actually, I do,” she said, glancing around. The bell was about to ring, but there were a few stragglers in the lot. “Bodyguard, remember?”
I noticed a couple of freshmen looking at Snow and glared until they looked away.
“God, I hate men.” She frowned. “Those guys checking me out, you opening the door, carrying my bag. All because of this stupid skirt.”
“Hey, I was just trying to be polite,” I said.
“Yeah, but why were you being polite?”
That sounded like a trick question, but I gave it a shot. “Uh…because my mama raised me right?”
“Seriously, though,” she said. “You guys are all alike. Why don’t you see a girl until she’s wearing next to nothing? It’s sick.”
I caught her arm as we reached the doors. The glare she leveled at me didn’t sway me in the slightest. I had to set her straight. Leaning in, I locked eyes with her.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “I love you in that skirt. I look forward to you wearing it often in my presence. But I’ve known you were a girl since the second you kissed me. The skirt’s just a reminder that I have yet to repay the favor.”
By the end, her jaw was hanging open.
I decided to be helpful. My knuckles grazed the underside of her chin as I gently pushed up.
“I think you’re right,” I said, eyes following the movement of her throat as she swallowed.
“About what?” Her voice was real breathy like she’d just run a mile. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the effect I had on her.
I shook my head. “People would never believe we’re related.”
* * *
Men are disgusting. Snow was right on that. We were walking to our fourth class, and I couldn’t keep track of all the guys who’d eyeballed her. The hallway was full of people. It was like everyone wanted to know who she was but were too chicken to ask. Cowards.
“AP Chemistry, AP Psychology and Honors Lit,” she read off her schedule. Looking up, she gave me a smile. “Impressive.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Speaking of impressive, you were great in Calculus.”
“Well,
math was my thing in school.”
I nudged her arm. “I’m guessing you weren’t too bad in Lit either. Mr. Trumble looked about ready to pee himself when you finished your answer.”
She shrugged, but I saw her lips curve. Snow had interpreted My Last Duchess—this creepy poem we were reading in Lit—with such perfection that old Mr. Trumble was speechless. The man loved to hear himself talk, so that was a miracle right there. In Calculus, she’d raised her hand to answer every question. And got every single one of them right. She was smart. Like really smart. And she wasn’t afraid to show it. I’d always been attracted to smart girls.
“How’d you guys manage to get me in all your classes? Did your mom use her connections?”
“Nope,” I said, stopping at my locker to change books. “That was all Smith.”
Snow frowned. “Agent Smith, the guard from the club.”
“That’s right,” I said, searching her face. “I know you don’t like him, but Smith’s a great hack. He’s crazy good with computers. Getting into the school’s database was a piece of cake. Then all he had to do was match your schedule up with mine.”
“Nice to know he’s good at something,” she muttered.
“Hey, Ash.” Melody, a girl whose name I only knew because her mom was in a book club with mine, waved at me from across the hall. “You coming to the student council meeting?”
“Probably not,” I said, “considering I’m not on the student council.”
“Oh, okay. Talk to you later then.”
“Or not,” I said under my breath as she kept walking. It wasn’t that she was a bad person, but the girl got on my nerves. I’d told her over and over that I wasn’t in student council. I never went to the meetings. Why couldn’t she get that?
“That’s nine,” Snow said.
Turning back to her, I said, “Nine what?”
“She’s the ninth girl to make up some excuse to talk to you.”
“You’re counting? I’m flattered.”