Page 108 of The Bodyguard

Today I’m wearing a pair of white Dolce & Gabbana pants with a fitted powder blue cashmere short sleeve knit top. My shoe slips off my heel and wobbles as I bounce my leg and then flip it back.

“Those are beautiful.” Briar admires the white Prada flats.

“They were a gift from Nick,” I tell her. “How he knew my size, I’ll never know.”

“Wardrobe department.” Gina shrugs from one of the seats opposite me. “Obviously.”

I force back my reaction because that last bit was sharp. I’m feeling quite sensitive to her at the moment but need to accept my part in what’s happened to our friendship.

Or rather how it’s changed.

Friendship isn’t something one can demand, and maybe we just grew apart when I wasn’t looking. I’ve certainly been distracted by the whirlwind of my career.

“Good point.” I laugh awkwardly, but she doesn’t laugh or smile.

I glance at Briar and she’s staring at Gina.

It might be good that I’ve acknowledged we aren’t close friends anymore, but I haven’t really faced how disruptive Gina is in the team.

I don’t want to lose Briar. She’s far too valuable to me.

I was hoping to chat with Gina in New York, but she was barely around. I make a mental note to set up a coffee with her this week and talk.

Like a real talk.

It’s time to discuss her leaving my team. It’s awkward, and she’s not contributing.

Ryder asked me if she was sleeping with Nick. I said I didn’t think so, but it’s possible. The way he came on to me in New York was inappropriate, but I’ve written it off to the fact he was drunk.

Plus, we’ve done a lot of intimate scenes together and while it’s just acting, we’ve crossed a personal boundary with each other that normal people don’t.

Things can get blurred when your barriers are down. Not that I would have slept with him. Nick is a gorgeous man, but I don’t want anyone touching me except Ryder.

Who reminds me that I’m not his.

Which hurt.

But it’s true.

My life sometimes doesn’t feel like it’s mine. I never expected to feel like this. If anyone found out I was sleeping with Ryder—my bodyguard—it would be front page news.

Which is messed up.

The fans would go crazy. I can see the headline now. Is Savannah Sinclair sleeping her way through her bodyguards?

There’s no end to the things they will make up to get clicks, likes, shares, and sell stories.

My career is too new. My reputation in its infancy, too new to survive something like that. Unlike normal people, I have to really think about this. I don’t want to be known as the actress who has a thousand lovers.

Ryder could lose interest in a month. I see the way women watch him.

How can I be sure he’s interested in me and not Savannah, the movie star?

I suppose him claiming I’m not his tells me everything I need to know. This is just sex. It’s great sex, but my feels are clearly a lot more complicated than his.

Plus, let’s face it. He’s not the kind of man who wants to stand beside me on the red carpet. I know this isn’t the life Ryder wants.

But the idea of him not being in my life, even after one week and one amazing weekend, feels extremely sad.

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