Nixon: An m/m bodyguard romance (Hunter Security), page 3
“You forgot your water,” Anna calls out, rushing toward me as I reach my door.
“Thanks,” I mutter, taking the bottle from her.
“You need to tell him the whole truth,” she says.
I sigh. “What if he doesn’t keep my secret?”
“Then we sue him for everything he’s worth.” She gives me a cheeky smirk. “He signed an NDA, and my gut is insisting we can trust him. You know I have amazing intuition.”
“I’ll consider it,” I answer. Once I’m in my room, I collapse onto my bed.
I’ve known I was gay since I was ten years old, and I have been keeping it a secret ever since. I’ve only ever told a handful of people, so adding another to the mix is a big step for me. If Nixon doesn’t keep his mouth shut, everything will change in my life. I’m not sure I’m ready for that to happen.
Chapter 4
Nixon
After a short knock on Sophy’s door, I enter our computer wizard’s office without waiting for a response. We’re kind of past the need for that. Knocking is more a heads-up that someone is entering around here and less a way to ask permission to enter. “Have you been able to dig up anything on the guy from the red carpet?” I ask without a greeting, antsy and eager for new information.
She looks up from her computer, pushes her purple heart-shaped glasses up her nose, and shakes her head, her red hair falling around her face. “It’s not like we have much to go on,” she replies. “We’ve got a name that’s fake. A company that is real but never had a Barney Anderson working for them. And somehow, not a single picture of him. How the hell is that possible?” She sighs, clearly as frustrated as I am.
I’ve been wondering the exact same thing. We’ve been working on this case for four solid days but are only hitting dead ends. With such a high-profile client, this shouldn’t be possible.
“There are details Dante is holding from us, but I can’t force him to open up.”
“Would either Anna or Dante be willing to meet with Slate to get a drawing of the guy?” Sophy inquires, mentioning her boyfriend, an amazing forensic sketch artist. “I could upload the image and run it through my software. Maybe this guy will pop up somewhere.”
When Sophy first started dating Slate, I was happy she found someone she clicked with so quickly. The fact that he’s able to assist the company from time to time is an added bonus.
“Great idea, Soph. I’ll contact Anna right away. Dante is a no-go, but Anna would gladly help wherever possible. Call Slate and send me the dates he’s free.”
She nods, and after I exit her office, I make my way to my own, pulling out my cell and firing off a text.
Me: Would you be able to give a good description of the guy from the red carpet? We have a forensic sketch artist we use from time to time, and if we can get an image, we should be able to run it through our database to try and find this guy.
Anna: I’m in. Name the time and place. I’m not back at work for another two weeks.
Me: Perfect. Once I get his schedule, I’ll let you know.
Anna: Thanks!
Me: No problem. I’ll be in touch soon.
Anna: Oh… Also, I’ll be out for the evening. Not sure if I need to tell you that or not, but I’m heading over to Brittany’s house. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. I already let Knox know, and he’ll be escorting me over there.
I’m happy to hear she’s following the rules and keeping in contact with the bodyguard we assigned her.
Me: Thanks for the heads up.
I hit send, place my phone on my desk, open a few emails, and relay information to different team members.
Business is booming, and it’s almost time for me to stop taking on clients myself, but the idea of being behind a desk every day makes my skin itch. At least right now I have a full-time client with a pretty easy schedule, even if he is a brat who seems to love to get on my nerves.
The day is busy, and I feel dead on my feet by the time I get home. Nothing a hot shower can’t fix, though.
I make my way to my bedroom, strip, and head directly into the shower, turning it to a scalding temperature in an attempt to wash away the stress of the day.
Once I’m clean, I step out, ready to climb into bed and pass out. But unfortunately, that won’t be possible because my phone vibrates and rings on the counter.
Buzz, buzz. Ding, dong, ding.
It’s an alert I set specifically for Dante’s alarm system.
I rush to pick it up, glare at the notification, and charge into my room to get dressed.
“Alexa, call Dante Michaelson,” I shout as I open a drawer to grab a pair of pants.
The speaker rings and rings and rings before going to voicemail.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter. “Alexa, call Denver.”
“What’s up?” Denver answers straight away.
“I’m on my way to Dante Michaelson’s house. There was an alert that someone has entered the property. I checked the cameras, but I don’t recognize the vehicle. It’s not on the list, and Dante isn’t answering his phone.”
“Do you need backup?” Denver asks.
“I don’t think so, but I wanted you on alert nonetheless.”
“Sounds good. Keep me updated.”
We end the call, and as fast as humanly possible, I get ready and rush over to Dante’s house, calling him three more times along the way. The only reason I’m not bringing in a full team and the police is the fact that the unknown driver didn’t force entry. He was let in by Dante. Considering he loves to fight me on everything, I can see this as him breaking the rules to spite me.
As I’m pulling into the driveway, the vehicle is exiting, and I stop in front, blocking their only way out.
“Who are you?” I shout as I get out of my car, making my way to the other driver’s door.
“I’m just a delivery guy,” he yells. “If you’re some jealous boyfriend, I don’t have time for this shit. Can you get out of my way?”
It’s then my eyes zero in on the sign in his window, stating clearly that he is a delivery driver, and I almost feel like an ass.
“Sorry,” I say and move my car out of the way. The second the driver is gone, I head up the driveway.
My jaw aches from how hard I’m clenching it as I climb the steps to the house. I’m fucking pissed. Not that Dante ordered takeout but that he didn’t answer any of my calls or give me a heads-up first. He knows the rules and is deliberately being an ass.
After slamming my fist against the door three times, I wait for Dante to answer. I could let myself in, but I have respect for people, unlike some douchey celebrity clients.
“Did I forget something?” he asks before sucking in a breath when he realizes it’s me. “What the hell are you doing here?” His eyes hold so much fire behind them, and if I didn’t know he was straight, I would think a hint of lust as well.
“If you’d answer your phone, you’d know.” I sneer, trying not to dwell on what lies behind those eyes.
“I ordered takeout, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t think I needed to make my babysitter aware of that.” He scoffs and stalks away from me.
Everything in me is screaming to grab him and demand some respect, but that would be crossing a line, and I don’t want to lose Dante as a client, even though he frustrates me beyond belief.
“All I ask is that you keep me informed. I’m trying to keep you alive here. Or do you want to die?”
“Of course, I don’t want to fucking die,” he yells, turning on his heels and glaring at me. This time, the look is pure rage, the hint of anything else gone. “But I also don’t want people all up in my business. Why the hell is it such a big deal for a person to want to keep to themselves?”
“Keep to yourself all you want, but it’s my job to make sure someone doesn’t try to kill you again. You make that really fucking hard when you refuse to follow basic instructions.”
“I’m your boss, not the other way around. Get that through your fucking head or take a hike,” he screams.
“Fire me, then,” I challenge, knowing he won’t. He’s simply being a stubborn ass. I take a step forward, going toe to toe with him, needing to show him I won’t be pushed around.
“You have no idea how badly I want to.” He snarls, staring directly into my eyes.
His breathing is a little labored, and his eyes are dilating a bit. There is a hint of lust again, but that doesn’t make sense. It’s probably from how angry he is.
“I’m not trying to control your life here, but I need you to stop acting like a fucking brat for just a moment and listen to me.”
“Maybe I like being a brat,” he counters, his eyes sparkling with mischievous energy I love in a partner. But he isn’t mine, so I take a step away before I do something stupid.
“I see that,” I mutter, trying to get myself under control. “Clearly, you don’t care about your own safety, but you do care about your friends. So if you aren’t going to do it for yourself, do it for them. Stop challenging me every step of the way and meet me halfway here.”
Dante glares at me for a second before sighing. “Fine. I’ll text you next time I order takeout,” he concedes.
“All I’m asking is for you to keep me in the loop. I’m not the bad guy here,” I remind him, but he rolls his eyes. My fingers twitch at my side, but I somehow keep my feet frozen where they are.
“Everyone is a bad guy. Some are just better at hiding it than others,” he states, grabs his pizza off the counter, and walks away.
The drive to the lot where Dante is filming his newest movie isn’t too long from his house, but the energy in the vehicle is tense. Probably because Dante doesn’t want me with him today. He made it clear last night that he doesn’t trust me and would gladly fire me if everyone in his life wasn’t insisting he have protection.
“Are you excited for your first day back on set?” Elanor asks Dante in the back seat of my SUV.
“I’d be happier if I didn’t have a babysitter trailing behind me,” he grumbles.
I clench my jaw. I hate when he calls me his babysitter. My job is so much more important than that. But the fact that he constantly acts like a toddler around me makes the title suit the situation.
Today has just started, and I already know it’s going to be long as fuck.
“I’m sorry that you’re so famous now and need personal security when you aren’t at home. Maybe I should get you blacklisted instead, and you can return to a normal life,” Elanor teases.
“Stop being a smartass,” Dante scolds her.
Even though my eyes are on the road, the smile in his voice is evident.
“Do you need a reminder of your schedule this week?” Elanor asks, changing the subject.
“Five long-ass days, one off, three even longer days, two off, rinse and repeat for the next three months,” Dante replies, coaxing a giggle out of Elanor.
“More or less. Stop acting so put off by it. This is the part you actually love.”
“You’re not wrong there,” he murmurs.
It doesn’t take us too long to get to the studio, where I show my credentials and gain access to the parking lot.
“Find a bench to sit on and stay out of my way,” Dante spits out at me when we arrive at our location, but I shake my head, refusing to let him get under my skin.
“No can do, buttercup,” I tease. I absolutely enjoy the way his jaw tightens and his lips purse at the nickname. Maybe I should use that one often. “My eyes are on you all day long,” I state firmly after I’m able to stop staring at his mouth. “Where you go, I go. Get used to having a shadow.”
He glares at me briefly before spinning on his heels and heading to his trailer. Thankfully not arguing any further.
“Sorry about him,” Elanor says as we follow him.
“Got any tips on how I can get him to soften up to me? It would be a lot easier on everyone if he stopped fighting me so much.”
She presses her lips together and stares at her shoe. “I wish I had an answer, but unfortunately, he’s going to be like this until you earn his trust.”
“How do I do that?”
She shakes her head with her lips pressed together. “I don’t actually know. Time, I guess.”
“Great,” I mutter, leaning against the trailer to wait for Dante to finish changing.
I’m not sure how much time passes when the trailer door flies open, and Dante stomps toward the set. I follow him as he bitches about how much he doesn’t need me.
As promised, much to his disappointment, I stay close to where he is acting. I make sure to stay out of the way, and I’ll admit it’s a lot more entertaining than I thought it would be. I figured I’d be bored out of my mind sitting on the sidelines, but I’m intrigued by everything going on.
“And… cut!” the director yells after a few scenes. “Take five, everyone.”
Dante stands from his crouched position, smiles at another actor, and heads toward me.
He’s dripping in sweat from running around nonstop. My eyes are drawn to his ripped chest as it rises and falls with his labored breaths.
“Would you like a glass of water?” a young woman with a giant smile and hearts in her eyes asks Dante, but I step in before he can accept it.
“I’ve got his water here,” I tell her as nicely as possible and place a sealed bottle in Dante’s hand.
“Oh… uh… sorry…” she stammers before rushing away.
“Way to ruin her day,” Dante goads me.
“Just trying to keep you alive. You know… my job,” I respond with a tight-lipped smile.
“It’s a glass of water,” he complains, then opens his bottle and guzzles the drink.
My eyes act like they have a mind of their own and track his Adam’s apple as it rises and falls while he downs the cold beverage. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from getting aroused at such a simple image.
“Yeah, it’s just a glass of water, but it was also a simple shot that almost killed you a week ago,” I remind him after I stop staring.
“Whatever,” he mumbles before finishing the bottle.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask.
This time, his eyes meet mine, and he stares at me so intently that it makes my heart race. Neither of us glances away.
“Another bottle of water,” he replies, pulling us from whatever the fuck was happening.
I grab another bottle from the cooler I had brought over a little while ago and hand it to him. He nods in thanks, which is apparently all I’ll be getting. But at least it’s better than biting my head off.
The rest of the day flies by, and after filming has ended, Dante and I make our way to his trailer.
“People want to go out for drinks,” he tells me, and while I appreciate him volunteering his plans, something is off.
“I thought you kept a close circle,” I point out, and he rolls his eyes.
Does he have any idea how often he does that? Or the fact that it makes my hand twitch every time?
“I do. But it’s also not a bad idea to build good relations with people I work with often.”
I guess he has a point, but the idea doesn’t sit well with me. “Where are they planning on hanging out?” I question, trying to weigh the pros and cons here.
“Some bar called Magic.” He spreads his fingers out and moves his hands along with the word, almost making me laugh, but the unease settling in my gut takes over, and I don’t even break a smile.
“I don’t think it’s the best plan,” I state. “It’s only been a week since someone tried to kill you, Dante. It’s best to keep a low profile for the time being. Everyone knows you are working on this film. If word gets out that you are out for drinks, it won’t be hard for anyone to find where you are. It’s too risky.”
Dante stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep inhale before slowly letting it out. When his eyes open again, landing on mine, there is tenacious energy behind them.
“I was telling you I’m going for drinks with my colleagues because you asked me to keep you in the loop,” he states firmly, never breaking eye contact. “I wasn’t asking for permission. So you can either tag along like a good little puppy or fuck off. I don’t care either way.” With those words, he turns and climbs into his trailer, slamming the door in my face.
So much for making progress.
While Dante changes, I make a call to Knox. Anna isn’t going out tonight, so he’s free. I tell him to meet us at Magic and inform the establishment about who is on their way. I’m sure the other actors’ assistants have already done that, but Dante doesn’t have an assistant, so I’m doubling as that tonight.
Part of me wonders if he’s going out tonight to build connections or if he’s doing it to prove some sort of a point. So after I’ve lined Knox up, I call Elanor.
“What’s up?” she says by way of greeting.
“Dante has decided he wants to hang out with his coworkers tonight,” I inform her. “What’s his alcohol tolerance like?”
“None. He barely drinks. This doesn’t sound like Dante at all. Did something happen?”
I take a moment to recall the entire day. “Shit,” I mutter as something stands out from right before filming ended.
“What?” Elanor demands.
“Dante and Anna’s breakup went live today. An actor was making fun of Dante for it. I didn’t hear the entire conversation, but it pissed Dante off. Maybe he’s trying to make some sort of point.” My earlier thoughts start to ring truer as I connect the dots. “Can you talk to him? Try and get him to reconsider? I’m a bodyguard. I’ll keep him safe, but I saw how freaked out he was at the hospital when he thought word was going to get out about the drugs. His image is important to him. If he gets drunk tonight, that could affect more than he’s maybe thinking about right now.”
“Give him the phone,” Elanor states in a no-bullshit tone, so I knock on the trailer.
