Page 45 of Don’t Fall For A Bodyguard

Lennie: Regan gave me the lowdown. How’re you guys feeling? You need anything before I report to work?

Petyr: Puking my guts out like I’m back in basic training, but I’ll survive. Thanks, though. Appreciated.

Valen: I think I’m over the worst of it, but still nauseous. BTW, your husband texted us. Said to call him if we need anything. That’s a sweet man you have. Hold on to him.

Lennie: I intend to

With that done, I got on the road. Evert lived in a condo complex only fifteen minutes from Payton’s. It was one of those boutique buildings, a restored warehouse that housed a small number of exclusive condos.

Once inside, I buzzed Evert and took the elevator to the fourth floor. When I knocked on the door, the photographer in question answered it, phone to his ear, waving me inside.

He looked like one of his celebrity subjects, with long, blonde hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and copious tattoos running up his arms. And his place was as dramatic as I’d envisioned. Eclecticfurniture was crammed into every nook, with photographs and paintings filling up the walls, floor to ceiling. Loft ceilings that were easily fifteen feet.

“Yes, I got the invite.” Evert paused and ran a hand through his hair as he talked. “And no, I won’t be going. You know how I feel about this whole thing. They wouldn’t talk to Zachary when he was alive, but now, suddenly, they want to make a big deal out of memorializing him? No. I refuse to talk to those people. They’re toxic. And that’s the end of it. I have to go.”

Evert tapped on his phone and shoved it in his pocket. Then he ran his hands along his forearms, his bracelets rattling.

“Sorry about that. Personal shit that has the worst timing ever.”

“No worries,” I replied. “I could’ve waited in the hallway.”

Evert shook his head. “I’m going to be traveling with you and the crew for months on end. I’m sure by the end of it, you’ll know all my secrets.”

“Bodyguards are like lawyers,” I replied. “We hear the confessions, but we keep our mouths shut.”

“Good to know.” Evert nodded and offered a smile. “It’s kinda strange for me to have to have a bodyguard. I guess this means I’ve hit the big time.”

“With the tour coming up, there’s a lot of fan and media frenzy. Best to be safe.”

Evert’s phone rang again, but he ignored it. “I need to change. Do you want water or anything before we leave?”

“I’m good, but thanks.”

“Make yourself at home.”

Evert nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

I walked around the living room, taking in his enormous collection of artwork. Most of them were photographs that captured celebrities, musicians, and the like. There were lots of professional shots, album covers and the like, and candidpictures too. But the apartment had a strange feel to it. It was more like a gallery or a showroom than a home. Or maybe it was me. Not that it was any of my business.

Less than ten minutes later, Evert reappeared, minus his glasses and ripped jeans. Instead, he rocked leather pants, a pinstriped vest, and cowboy boots, his hair neatly braided down his back.

“I can’t get over the number of photographs on these walls. I assume they’re all yours?”

Evert’s smile disappeared completely. “No. Not all of them.”

When he didn’t say any more, I realized that I’d touched a no-go zone.

“We better get going,” I announced, changing the subject. “You don’t want to be late.”

“I’m an artist, that’s a given.”

I headed for the door and waited in the hallway while Evert locked up. On our way to the elevator, I noticed he was rubbing his left forearm. Nervous habit?

“So, you excited for the tour?” I asked.

Evert nodded. “I am. I’ve done a lot of shoots at concerts and events, but never a full world tour. You?”

“Not on this scale. Wayward has reached next level fame. And Killmine, the band they’re touring with, is awesome too. One thing’s for sure, it’s gonna be a year we’ll never forget.”

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