The Praetorian

by Dawn L. Chiletz

  What was that all about? She rolled her eyes at me. Maybe she didn’t like me holding the hand of another woman. Dammit, there I go again. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

  Dawson approaches me as I’m about to leave my dressing room. I kind of wish it was a dating show right now.

  “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “I think I should go on the house tour with them.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why? Everyone here has been cleared, right?”

  “Esto said it’s better if you’re more unattainable. At least for tonight. And yes, everyone has been cleared. Their luggage was searched by my team per the agreement they signed, and background checks were completed. The only one that revealed anything questionable was Bobby McNeal. But those charges were from years ago and he’s had a clean record for six years.”

  “I’m a bit surprised he’s a candidate, but I like him. I bet he has good street cred.”

  “The worst of the charges was battery. He had a few ticks for robbery. I made sure everything in his room was nailed down, just in case.”

  “No… you didn’t. Did you?”

  “I’m joking,” Dawson clarifies when I scowl. “If and when you pick one of them to win, they’ll go through much more of my personal scrutiny and training. Then maybe I’ll be less edgy. But that’s why you pay me. For now, I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt. All I ask is that you try not to make my job harder than it is. Please consider calling it a night.”

  “Okay.” Turning around, I sit back down in the desk chair.

  “Wait, what?” he asks, leaning in as if he didn’t hear me.

  “I said okay. I’ll watch them from here.”

  “You’re not going to argue with me?”

  Ignoring the question, I say, “Why don’t you get some dinner? You’ve got to be starving.”

  “Speaking of dinner, aren’t you supposed to be upstairs? I think Natalie’s waiting.”

  Tapping my fingers on the desk, I stare at the camera and the group walking through my house. I want to know everything that’s going on, but I haven’t checked in with Natalie since this morning. I’m torn.

  “You can always watch the recordings later,” Dawson reminds me.

  I stare at the screens for another second and realize he’s right. I made a promise and I need to keep it. “Okay, I’m going. Can you make sure the recording is in my room later?”

  “I’ll make sure of it. Don’t forget you can access all of this from your iPad too.”

  I pat him on the shoulder as I head out the door. Pushing my hands into my jean pockets, I slowly walk through the forum. The lights are dim now and the room is empty. I know the cameras are always rolling so I don’t linger. I’m ready for some privacy.

  As I head into the foyer, I hear Bryce’s voice in the distance. I assume he’s showing them the dining room. They brought in a bigger table for the show. I rarely eat there, so I couldn’t care less. In a way it’s kind of nice to have the house full of people. It’s too big for me and it always feels so empty.

  Climbing the stairs to the west wing, I sigh in relief as I enter the only section of my house that is mine alone. I don’t ever have to worry about anyone invading my personal space.

  I pass a couple of security guards. “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”

  “Quiet tonight. All is well.”

  I nod and saunter down the hall. The blue lamp on the hall table casts a warm, welcoming glow. My room is the last one on the left, directly across the hall from the most important room in the house.

  Using my key, I open the door. She’s sitting in a chair by the bed, reading out loud. I think its poetry. Robert Frost? Yep, definitely. It makes me smile.

  She turns when the door creaks and smiles when she sees me. “It’s about time,” she says sarcastically, placing the book on the bedside table and standing to greet me. “I was getting impatient,” she says placing her hands on her hips.

  “Oh, you were, were you?” I question, even though I know what she really means.

  “It’s a good thing you’re finally here. It’s way past snack time. I was about to start without you.”

  I close and lock the door behind me. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world. It’s my favorite part of the day.”

  She grins knowingly and motions to a chair at the table she had prepared. As soon as I see the food, I realize I’m starving, but I have more important things on my mind.

  Walking past the table, I sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much, but Clark has me doing some crazy-ass stuff. You would have loved it. Esto, the producer, created a magnificent spectacle with Roman soldiers and incredible music. They have these red-and-black tapestries that swirl with wind.” I make the motion with my hand and eyes widen with interest. It makes me smile even more to know I’m being entertaining. “And I met the contestants today. What a group.”

  “Anyone interesting?” Natalie asks as she stirs soup in a bowl on the table.

  “I’d say they all have something unique about them.”

  I’m quiet for a moment and I know she knows what’s coming. I say it all the time, especially when I’m on tour. “I missed you. I promise to be better about spending time here, even with all the chaos going on around us.”

  Natalie smiles and glances at the bed then back to the table. I know what she’s thinking. Food is the only thing on her mind.

  “Someone’s hungry,” she hums, making a joke of the gurgling sounds filling the room.

  “Okay, okay. Let’s eat,” I respond.

  “Then a song?” she asks.

  “Of course. It’s tradition.”

  Lifting the bowl from the table, I realize that for a moment, I forgot all about the show, my problems, and the pressures of my life. This really is the only place I can let go and be who I am. Staring into the big blue eyes in front of me reminds me why I have to go on. I’m needed here and that’s all that matters.

  I pull my luggage onto the bed by the window. Not only was I surprised they let us pick our own roommates, but I’m also astonished she let me have the bed with a view.

  Cupping my hands against the window, I attempt to see outside. It’s dark, but the property is well lit. I think I can see part of a pool.

  “Do you think it moves?” Tori asks, pointing to the camera in the corner.

  I tilt my head a bit to see how it’s mounted. “It wouldn’t surprise me. In the last TV show, they had a cameraman in the room when the contestants were awake.”

  Frowning briefly, she winces and takes a step toward it. “I wonder if it’s the only one in the room.”

  “I hope so. They said there weren’t any in the bathrooms, so I guess we have that going for us.”

  She places a beautiful silver dress on a hanger in the closet.

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s amazing.”

  “Thanks.”

  After we left the forum, she introduced herself to me. She seems really nice. I thought we’d be fast allies, but she hesitated when I asked her to be my roommate. The way her shoulders slumped when Kari shook hands with Naya made me think she was hoping for Kari. I was just praying not to end up with Naya. Her response about being too good for law enforcement irked me. I haven’t talked to her yet, but based on the way she glared at me during introductions, I’m guessing she meant every word.

  “I think I’m going to walk around a bit,” Tori says, placing her suitcase in the closet. Man, she emptied it fast. “Want to come with me?”

  I glance at my watch. It’s almost midnight and Bryce said breakfast was at 8:00 and filming at 9:00. That means I have to get up by 7:30 to shower and dress. I realize I’m staring at the ceiling, thinking, when she clears her throat.

  “Hello?”

  “Sure.” I respond shrugging my shoulders. We were told we could go anywhere on the grounds and the east wing of the house. Bryce was very clear that the west wing
was off limits. I suppose that’s where Roman’s rooms are located. It would be a good idea to learn the lay of the land. I only saw everything very briefly on the tour and I’d like to feel my way around this time.

  She flips the lights off as we exit. The doors don’t have locks on them. I noticed when I first walked in. It’s a bit concerning. Not that I have anything to hide, but I certainly don’t like the idea of anyone rummaging through my underwear.

  “The doors don’t lock,” she says, surprised.

  I shrug. “Guess not.” Instead of looking like a know it all, I decide it’s best to play along.

  As we stroll down the hall, she glances back nervously. She must be thinking about her underwear too.

  We head toward the stairs. Across the way in the entry to the west wing, there are two guards sitting on chairs in the hall. Pausing to watch them for a minute, out of the corner of my eye, I notice Tori’s movement stops midway down the stairs. As I pull my eyes from the guards to look at her, she smiles.

  “They might as well have put a welcome sign there,” she says. “Telling people like us we can’t go into that side of the house makes us want to see it ten times more.”

  I nod my head and laugh. She’s right. I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels it.

  We continue down the stairs. It’s oddly quiet so I feel the need to whisper. “You think everyone already went to bed?” I ask in a hush.

  “Maybe. But with this group, I think you’ll never know what they’re doing. Want to check out the diary room? We could go confess something.”

  “Like what? I don’t have any secrets,” I say a little too defensively.

  “I don’t know. We’ll make it up as we go.” She pulls on my arm and I’m transported back to high school days of peer pressure.

  I yank back mid-drag. “You go ahead. I have nothing to say.”

  “Suit yourself.” She heads off toward the forum.

  Now what do I do? I stare at the paintings that line the staircases, stepping back to admire them. It’s a lot of abstract art. Bright reds and blues interspersed with black. I stare at one painting that reminds me of The Scream, but it’s more eerie, if that’s possible. I wonder what that says about our principal. If he’s anything like his art, there’s more to him than meets the eye.

  After a few minutes, I make my way down the hall to the left. I shouldn’t have turned down the late-night snack they offered us. My stomach is rumbling. They said we could help ourselves to whatever, so I head off toward the dining hall. The kitchen must be nearby. I didn’t get to see it earlier, since I lingered too long in the foyer, looking at the gold records lining the wall. Stopping in the doorway of the large dining room, I lean on the frame. I can’t believe one person lives in this house all by themselves. Why would anyone need a table that sits… I count the chairs. Sixteen. Cripes. Maybe he has a lot of dinner parties. I don’t even have sixteen friends.

  I walk down the hall and low and behold, I find the kitchen. It’s gigantic. My mouth is hanging open, but I don’t care. Feeling my way along the wall, I find and lift a dimmer light switch. The lights slowly brighten and it’s magnificent. There are gray granite countertops and high-quality whitewashed cabinets, multiple ovens, and two sinks. Running my finger along the smooth counter, I gaze up at the ornate ceiling, then down at the hardwood floors. Reaching my hand across to the wall, I touch the backsplash. I have no idea what it’s made of, but it’s smooth and sleek, like everything else in his house.

  I assume the large cabinet is the fridge and pull it open. There’s enough food inside to feed a small country. I laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much in my life. This is a chef’s dream. I fancy myself a good cook, but there are foods in this fridge I’ve never seen before and would have no idea how to prepare.

  “See anything you like?”

  A deep voice booms behind me and I jump. Spinning to face whomever is speaking, my hand flies to my hip out of habit.

  He’s leaning on the doorframe with a smirk on his face. I freeze as if I’ve seen a ghost. Holy shit, it’s Creed. “I’m sorry, am I not supposed to be here? They said we could grab a snack whenever we wanted, but if I misunderstood, I apologize.”

  “Don’t. You can have whatever you want. Mi casa es su casa,” he says, arms open wide. “Anything good in there?”

  Pulling my eyes away from his stubbled face and nose ring, I pretend I’m looking in the fridge again. “Um, to be honest…” I pause when he moves next to me. I feel the buzz of his presence like he has some kind of charismatic force field around him. “I don’t know what half this stuff is.”

  “Hmm…, well, these things here,” he says, pointing, “are called eggs.”

  “I knew that one,” I say rolling my eyes, trying not to look like I’m trying to suck him in through my nose. Damn, he even smells expensive.

  “Usually at this time of night, I don’t go to the fridge.” He beckons me to follow him. Closing the refrigerator door, I inch along behind him like a puppy. He opens a door on the side wall. A light flickers to life and he moves aside so I can peer around the corner into a large walk-in pantry full of cans, chips, stacks and stacks of bottled water, too many loafs of bread to count, and an array of cookies and cakes.

  “Holy hell,” I whisper. “This is paradise and bigger than my entire apartment.”

  He laughs. “Just between us, there’s no camera in here. You can literally hide inside and eat till you puke. No one will know.”

  “That’s a good tip,” I say with a grin. “But I don’t think I should be eating any of this stuff. I need to be fit for whatever challenges are in store.” I tap my stomach.

  He looks me over before meeting my eyes. I guess I asked for that. I said I needed to stay fit, so obviously he had to look at me to decide if I was. I struggle for words. “Do you usually come down here at this time of night?” I question, breaking the silence.

  “Why? Hoping this might become our secret place?” he asks, taking a step toward me or maybe he’s moving closer to the cookies.

  “No way.” I laugh and cross my arms. His eyebrows furrow and I feel bad. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I shouldn’t eat so late at night, not that I didn’t want a secret place with you. I don’t mean that I do either. I… Anyway, I was only asking if you usually came down here to make conversation.”

  He studies me for what seems like an eternity and as soon as he turns away, I shake my head at my weirdness.

  Moving out of the pantry, he lifts himself up on the granite island and leans back on his arms. “Actually, sometimes I have a hard time sleeping, so I’m a frequent visitor to the kitchen. On occasion, I come down here for hot chocolate. It reminds me of—” He stops mid-sentence, grimaces slightly, and then clears his throat. “Where are my manners?” He holds out a hand to me. “We haven’t been formally introduced. Roman.”

  “Reed,” I respond, placing my hand in his. I give him my usual firm, I mean business, handshake, but the tender way his fingers hold mine causes me to loosen my grip. I try to let go, but he won’t let me.

  I steal a quick glance at our hands and note there are initials tattooed on his wrist. Trying to read them upside down, I feel as if I’m staring too long. I divert my gaze to the floor, which feels weak, so I lift my head to him. His eyes lock with mine and I immediately see the draw. His eyes are bright blue tractor beams, pulling me in like I’m under a spell. His face is etched like it was drawn by God himself. He’s got cheekbones a model would kill for, but they’re masculine and strong. And his mouth…

  Still holding my hand, his lip curls slightly. I realize I’m gawking. It’s awkward as hell so I pull my hand away and attempt to seem unaffected by him. Glancing toward the pantry, I say “So what do you recommend?”

  His hand moves to the back of his neck and it’s my turn to grin. Does he feel awkward too?

  “It’s nice to meet you, Reed.” He hops down from the counter. “I’ll let you get something to eat. Enjoy your
stay.”

  I worry I’ve offended him. “Hey, didn’t you need something?” I ask, motioning to the packed pantry. “Hot chocolate maybe?”

  “I got what I came for,” he says with a wink.

  My skin breaks out in goosebumps as he exits. He strolls with swagger. He’s got confidence in every pore of his body and his ass is as solid as a rock. He’s… holy crap. He’s sexy.

  “Fuck.” I say in a hush as I roll back into the pantry, out of camera sight. This isn’t good. I can’t find my potential employer sexy. He’s an arrogant asshole, right? I try to remember why I thought that at all. I desperately search for something wrong with him.

  The last thing he said to me repeats in my head, twisting with new meaning. “He got what he came for?” What does that mean? He wanted to meet me? Intimidate me? Did he come down here because he knew I was here? I bite my lip. “Ugh, I’m such an idiot. This is a game. I need to play it constantly. I almost forgot what I was doing. I bet I came off like a fool.

  Leaving the confines of the pantry, I close the door behind me and flip the lights off as I leave. My appetite is gone. I should have been more professional. I stared at him like an idiot. I bet all the girls do.

  Shaking my head at myself, I stroll down the hall and back up the stairs, glancing briefly at the guards in front of the hall to his private wing. If he came downstairs without a guard, why does he need people protecting that area? For a moment, I consider the idea that he has something to hide.

  Who am I kidding? So do I. In some ways, I’ve been hiding my whole life.

  It’s the first day of challenges. I have a breakfast meeting with JP and Esto to go over the day, so I force myself to get up earlier than usual for my morning run and time by the pool. Dawson doesn’t want me to go, since the grounds are covered with people setting up for the day, but if I don’t get in a run, I’ll be more crabby than usual. Nobody wants that.