by S. Nelson
“Well, something did,” Ford countered. “Otherwise, you’d act more like Emily.” Comparing me to my sister was a common occurrence. My parents had been doing it for years, and I’d learned to accept it. But something about the way Ford said it insulted me, like he was implying I wasn’t entitled to have my own personality apart from my sister.
“Just because we’re twins doesn’t mean we’re the same person.” My reply sounded defensive, but he’d flustered me to the point I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t know if it was that damn piercing gaze of his or his accusatory tone that had me unnerved.
It wasn’t until Ford looked away that my heartbeat slowed, the thumping of my pulse regulating back to normal. Even though I’d been the one to push him into conversation, it was he who ended it with his simple probing question. A question that hit deeper than I could’ve ever anticipated.
* * *
Ford
As I hoped, Cara left me alone for the rest of the flight, entertaining herself with the other members of her party. She avoided any and all eye contact with me, although she couldn’t tell when I was looking at her because I’d thrown my shades back on. Even though we were in the air, and I knew there was no threat to her well-being, other than herself, of course, I kept a close eye on her.
Two black Lincoln Navigators waited for us when we landed, and after loading the luggage into the backs, we took off for the house we were going to be staying at. One of Walter’s many homes, nestled on ten acres of land in the city of Modesto, tucked away from everything else, perfect for limiting distractions. The drive took forty-five minutes, and although Owen and I had minced words back on the plane, I was thankful he rode with me. Which meant Emily sat next to Cara in the back. The rest of the party had taken the second vehicle, following close behind.
Exiting the interstate, it was another ten minutes until I turned down a long dirt driveway. The estate was well hidden, which was undoubtedly on purpose. As we drew near, the house came into view, the setting sun lighting the horizon on fire and casting a glow over the enormous home, which turned out to be a log cabin. The biggest log cabin I’d ever seen, but not the typical house I’d suspected, although it was grand just the same.
Everywhere I looked, I saw huge windows running from floor to ceiling. In hindsight, probably not the safest home, but who could’ve anticipated the threat against their family? Walter had given me the security code and told me while it was simple to operate, it was top of the line. Because it was settled in the middle of nowhere, multiple cameras had already been installed. Not as many as back in the New York house, but sufficient enough for us to do our jobs properly.
The rocks of the driveway kicked up beneath the tires until I finally came to a stop near the front porch. Exhausted, all I wanted to do was hit the hay, but a quick glance at my watch told me it was only eight thirty in the evening. Which meant there was a good chance the women were going to want to go out. I only prayed they were as tired, but as the other SUV pulled up behind us, and the occupants jumped out, they chatted about where they all wanted to go once they’d changed and freshened up.
“Cheer up, man.” Owen slapped me on the back. “We’re in California.”
“We’ve been here plenty before.”
“Yeah, but not for some time.” He helped Emily with her luggage and walked up the steps to the front porch. Extracting a key from his back pocket, he opened the door but not before telling everyone else to wait outside until I completed the initial walkthrough. Owen stayed behind with the others, just to be safe. I was thorough but quick, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible so I could rinse off and relax a little before we headed back out. To where, I could only imagine, but I didn’t want to think about that right then.
As soon as I stepped inside, my eyes widened at the state of the place. Gorgeous. I wasn’t one who was impressed easily because I’d been inside many a fine home, but something about the place eased some of my anxiety.
To the left was a wide, wooden staircase, wrought iron swirling between the top and bottom of the banister. Above opened to a balcony, looking down on the living area below. An enormous stone fireplace took up the majority of the far wall ahead of us, two big brown leather sofas positioned in front of it for a nice, cozy feeling.
The open concept led to a state-of-the-art kitchen with marble countertops and a stone backsplash, all the appliances stainless steel. There was another sitting area on the other side of the room, as well as a custom-built sauna toward the back of the house.
Venturing outside to finish my check, I saw there was a fire pit set deep in the stone patio, ten seats placed around it in a circle. Under any other circumstance, I would’ve loved to light a fire and relax out there well into the evening, but I was on duty. A little farther out was a large pool, with lounge chairs surrounding it.
Once I was satisfied, I reentered the house and made my way back toward the front porch, signaling to my brother that everything was all clear.
“It’s about time,” Cara snarked before wheeling her luggage behind her. I was used to her by now, so whatever attitude she wanted to shade me with wasn’t going to get under my skin. Not anymore. I’d made a deal with myself on the plane ride over that I wasn’t going to be as stressed out as I had been. I was going to continue to do my job to the best of my ability, but I wasn’t going to allow Cara to rile me the way she had since the day I met her. She was who she was, and I wasn’t going to change her. Not that I wanted to. I’d admit that I’d overstepped my bounds on a couple of instances, but I’d been reacting because of my guilt, something Owen had brought to my attention before. I didn’t want to hear him, but he was right.
Cara wasn’t Julia.
Sometime later, while almost everyone was in the main living area, talking and having a drink, there was a knock on the front door. Owen and I locked eyes before rushing toward the door, simultaneously pulling our guns from the holsters tucked underneath our jackets.
Whipping open the large wooden door, we came face to face with a small, white-haired man, his eyes bulging at seeing our guns pointed in his face. As far as we were aware, there weren’t going to be any visitors that evening, so our actions were a precaution.
“Who are you?” I asked, the bass in my voice clipping all three words.
“I… I….”
“Spit it out,” Owen barked.
“I’m the chef,” he finally said, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Looking behind him, I saw a truck parked to the side of our vehicles. Rocco’s Catering.
Before we could ask him another question, Naomi pushed between us, unfazed by seeing our guns drawn.
“This is my surprise for Cara,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. I knew she was aware of why her best friend had a security detail, so for her to be surprised we’d acted in such a way baffled me. Although, it only drove home once again how much of a lack of concern they possessed for the whole issue. “Put those damn things away.” She glared at the both of us until we lowered our weapons.
“Do you have anyone else with you?” I asked, peering around him to see if someone was next to him on the porch.
“Just my assistant. She’s in the van.” I hadn’t noticed his French accent before then, although, to be fair, we hadn’t given him much of a chance to talk.
“I’ll go check,” my brother offered. “Make sure everything’s clear before they come inside.” I nodded and stepped onto the porch, essentially pushing the old guy back.
“What’s going on?” Cara had been upstairs and had no idea what was going on.
“This is the surprise I was telling you about,” Naomi answered, her disapproval written all over her face when she looked back to me. Great, now I have to deal with two women glaring at me for the rest of the night.
Cara’s demeanor switched in the span of a millisecond as soon as she realized who stood outside the door. She hugged her friend before ushering the old man inside. They bustled past me, but not before she cha
stised me for doing my damn job.
“Don’t you know who he is?” I didn’t have a chance to answer before she said, “Michel Rocco. He’s one of the most famous French chefs around. God, Ford. Get a clue.”
Don’t let her get to you. Don’t let her rile you. Ignore her. It’s not worth getting pissed off about. Instead of answering, realizing if I spoke right then I’d most likely say something inappropriate, I chose to remain silent, following the three of them into the kitchen.
“You can set up in here,” Cara offered before telling the man how excited she was to eat everything on his menu that evening. She smiled and carried on a conversation with the guy, and for a brief moment, I was jealous of the ol’ bastard. Not because of who he was, because I hadn’t a clue, but because Cara had never looked at or spoken to me in such a manner. As if she liked me. Hell, I didn’t need her to like me. On the contrary, it made my job easier because she didn’t, sort of. But was it too much to ask for indifference rather than all-out contempt?
Once Owen deemed the van was free from threat and that the woman assisting the chef was harmless, he allowed her to enter, even helping them bring in some of the items they needed to cook. He was a better man than me.
I hung back, making sure to keep out of everyone’s way. I had no desire to eat any of the recipes the guy whipped up, most of it I couldn’t even pronounce. Although, in my defense, it was French cuisine and I preferred meat and potatoes.
It took two hours to complete all seven courses, and the only thing to come out of it for me was the fact that everyone was stuffed and too tired to move afterward. Which meant there would be no clubbing that evening.
Thank Christ for that. I’d take any reprieve I could get.
* * *
Cara
“I think I gained ten pounds,” I complained, gingerly rubbing my belly while sprawled out on the couch.
“I don’t think I’ll ever need to eat again.” Karen laughed, mimicking me while occupying the opposite sofa, sharing it with my sister who had her head leaned against the back of it, moaning from overindulgence. Much like the rest of us.
Naomi and Benji were in the kitchen making drinks for everyone, and while I was stuffed, I always had room for a cocktail, or two, or three.
“Here we go.” Naomi walked back into the room, Benji hot on her heels. He was a cute guy, not my type, but cute all the same. His light brown hair was cut short, the type of texture that if he let it grow would look like a puffball, it looked to be that curly.
The way he gazed at her when he thought no one was looking was touching, and it made me wonder if anyone would look at me in such a way. Before I got too sentimental, I accepted my drink and took a large sip before realizing how strong it was. Not that I couldn’t handle it, it just took me by surprise.
“Damn, woman.” I coughed, covering my mouth to keep the rest of it from spraying out. “You could’ve warned me.”
“Sorry.” The wicked grin on her face told me she knew exactly how strong she made the drink.
“Do you want me to add more club soda?” Benji offered, his hand outstretched to take my glass in case I agreed. Naomi’s specialty was an Old Fashioned, and normally she made them with the perfect mix of bourbon, Angostura bitters, sugar, and club soda. Only this time, she didn’t flick her wrist back quick enough when pouring the bourbon.
“No, I suppose I’ll make do.” My mock martyr comment had Naomi smiling.
“Oh, however will you manage?” She patted my leg to make room for her and Benji after she passed out the rest of the drinks.
“I have no idea,” I jested, taking another sip. After the fourth, I deemed it was the best drink I’d had in a long time.
A half hour passed with chitchat about how scrumptious the dinner was and how I’d never expected such an awesome surprise. Then we talked about some possible clubs we’d like to hit the next night, taking full advantage of being in California to celebrate.
We were going to meet up with a few of our friends who lived out here, so if there was somewhere we wanted to go but couldn’t get on the VIP list, which would be a rarity for us given everyone in the free world knew who our father was, I was sure they’d have an alternative place for us to party.
I was busy trying to devise a plan if, or I should say when, Ford stepped in and pulled his usual shit of destroying my fun. He was a buzzkill, I’d be damned if I allowed him to ruin our birthday. The only problem was, I had no idea how I would stop him when the time came.
If I was drunk, which I planned on being, my defenses would be down, and in that case, one would think it would be good to have Ford around. But I wasn’t that person. I’d been taking care of myself for years, and I didn’t need someone else to do it for me.
Before I got all riled up over something that hadn’t even happened, I finished off the rest of my drink, looking around the room to locate the man in question.
He stood next to Owen in the corner of the room. Of course, they’d be the ones looking more like guard dogs than security guys. They were talking softly, and I could only imagine what the topic was that held their interest. Were they pissed off they had to leave the state? Were they putting together a game plan for their entire stay, improvising with their new surroundings? Were they talking business at all or about something personal?
Neither one of them ate the dinner that was prepared, disappearing from the dining area altogether. Owen looked like he was starving, licking his lips every time he happened to walk into the kitchen while I was throwing a thousand-and-one questions at Chef Rocco.
I had a feeling Owen would’ve joined us, but Ford had something to do with his absence. Part of me understood that they shouldn’t become too comfortable with their clients, but the other part of me wondered if there was another reason he chose to keep his distance, seemingly imposing his need for separation on to his younger brother, as well. Although watching Owen and Emily together as I had from time to time, I realized Owen wasn’t as gung-ho to stay away from the woman he was hired to protect.
I often wondered if Ford was as standoffish with all his clients. Had he spoken his mind and acted toward them as he did with me? Had he walked in on other women naked in the tub or overstepped his bounds and ratted them out to whoever hired him?
I doubted I’d get answers anytime soon, so I sat up on the couch and cradled my empty glass in my hand.
“Do you want another?” Naomi was next to me before I could answer, taking the glass from me and walking into the kitchen. “I don’t know why I asked. Of course, you do.” Had I not been feeling nice, I would’ve read too far into her comment.
“How about we take this outside?” Benji asked, jumping up to help Naomi with the drinks when she reappeared. “It’s a gorgeous night outside, and I believe I saw a fire pit out back.”
“I love that idea,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss. They were a cute couple, and I hoped for her sake that this one worked out. Naomi didn’t seem to have much luck, always picking the wrong guys. Although, I didn’t have any room to talk. My list was a mile long of guys who were bad for me. But in my defense, I never wanted a relationship with any of them. I only wanted to have some fun. Some of them wanted more, but I cut that shit off before they got too attached and ended up annoying me. Kurt had been on his way to joining that list, so I should be relieved Ford threatened him to stay away from me. I couldn’t get on board with the way he handled the situation, though.
“I’ll grab us something in case it gets cooler.” Emily disappeared upstairs, returning with a handful of fleece blankets, the pile of thickness securely tucked under her chin as she walked toward the door, Karen following closely behind. And since nature had come knocking, I used the powder room off the kitchen before joining everyone else outside.
The fire had already been lit by the time I took my seat next to my sister, settling into the comfy Adirondack chair for a night of laughs and memories.
Looking around, I noticed Ford and Owen hung back behi
nd the rest of us, and it annoyed me beyond measure. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it wasn’t, but I turned in my seat to face them both, my choice of words getting right to the point.
“If you don’t sit down, you’ll have to go inside.”
“We’re fine where we are.” Ford shoved his hands in his pants pockets, widening his stance and letting me know he had no intention of moving. Owen, however, lowered his head to stare at the ground quickly before making eye contact with Emily, then me. He wanted to sit but wouldn’t go against Ford. A united front of sorts.
“No, you’re not.” I twisted back around. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable leering at the back of us.”
“You don’t have to be so rude,” Emily chastised, smacking me on the leg.
“I’m not. I just don’t want them standing behind us the entire time. It’s weird.” I had no doubt Ford would ignore me and stay right where he was, but when Emily turned to look at Owen, I saw the look she gave him, and for a moment, I was jealous of their unspoken connection. Her eyes shifted from him to two of the empty chairs, then back again, drawing her mouth into a straight line before biting her bottom lip. She wanted him to sit with us, but didn’t want to outwardly support my harsh direction.
Surprisingly, they decided to sit, walking toward the empty seats, making sure to leave two spaces between them and Benji and one between them and Karen. They sat with us but still separate, which was fine with me, as long as they weren’t standing guard.
Because the sky had darkened long ago, Ford had removed his shades and placed them on top of his head. An unexpected move for someone who always seemed to want to stay hidden as best he could. But I supposed he wouldn’t be able to see anything with them in the dark, the only immediate light from the fire roaring in front of us.