Page 12 of Elliot

CHAPTER 5

Maya sighed as she brushed her hair. She’d soaked in the bathtub for almost an hour, adding warm water as it cooled, and had finally stopped shivering. The physical response to being over-tired and shocked at the fall was something she hadn’t experienced before. She had work to do before she could sleep, so she slipped into yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and a pair of fluffy socks before cracking open her bedroom door and heading to the office. She only made it a few feet before the smell of something delicious wafted to her.

She followed the smell into the kitchen, where Elliot sat among a plethora of takeout containers. In a pair of chopsticks, he held a fried wonton.

“I’ve ordered enough for an army. Would you like some?” He pointed to the table, and she chuckled because she believed him. All the food her new bodyguard had ordered could have sustained an army.

“I usually have a salad. Louise makes one for me and leaves it in the fridge.” She sat down and looked at the delicious food. “But this smells delicious. Are you sure you don’t mind sharing?” She glanced up at him.

“Not at all. I ordered more than enough.”

“I’ll reimburse you,” she said as she reached for a pair of chopsticks and a paper plate.

“Ms. Callahan, I assure you I can afford to feed myself and you,” he said, grinning, as she reached for the container holding the fried wontons.

She looked up at him. “But you’ll want to be reimbursed, right?”

He lifted noodles to his mouth, slurped them, and shook his head no. When he finished chewing, he wiped his mouth. “I don’t need or want your money. I have enough of my own.”

She rolled her eyes. “I assure you, I have more money than you do.”

He lifted his eyes to her. “I’ve seen your net worth. I’m sure you do, too, but I want none of it. I’ve worked with some of the richest people in the world. One thing I’ve learned is money doesn’t make you happy.”

She dumped a bit of rice and sauteed veggies on her plate before snagging an egg roll, checking the label to make sure it didn’t have chicken or pork. “Moneydoesmake a person happy.”

“I beg to differ. Having a hand to hold when you’re scared or having someone to talk to when the day has gone to hell can make you happy. Money can’t do that.”

She chewed her bite of wonton and cocked her head. She was damn good at reading people, and she wanted to get a read on her new bodyguard. “Money paid for you. You were there when I was scared earlier, and I’m talking to you now. Believe me, the last twenty-four hours have been hell on earth.”

“But I don’t make you happy.” He poured half a container of white rice onto his plate and covered it with what looked like beef and broccoli.

She shrugged. “I don’t know you well enough to make that determination. You make me feel safe, which I didn’t know I needed to feel until last night.” She took a bite of her veggies andrice before asking, “What makes you happy? We know money makes me happy.”

Elliot glanced at her and shook his head. “Not much makes me happy anymore.”

“Anymore? That means something did at one time.” As he set his chopsticks down, crossed his arms, and stared at her, she realized he wasn’t wearing his gun. “Oh, you took your gun off. Good.” She smiled. “That makes me happy, too.”

“My weapon is strapped to my ankle. I’m never without it.”

She grimaced and then pointed at him. “Well, to be honest, that’s oddly reassuring, but I still hate guns. You were going to tell me what made you happy once upon a time.”

“Was I?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“I believe you were, or you were judging how much of it you would tell me. Probably just enough to stop my questions. But just so you know, I dig. That’s why I’m so damn good at what I do. I know everything, and if I don’t, I find the people who know, and I get the information.”

“How?”

“Money.” She smiled again. “See? It makes me happy.”

He leaned forward and looked at his food. “My team made me happy once upon a time.”

“They don’t any longer? What happened?”

He lifted those intense gray eyes. “They’re dead.”

She stopped chewing, realizing the very personal information she’d just asked him to reveal. She put down her chopsticks. “I’m sorry. That isn’t any of my business. I’ll just stop talking now.”

He shook his head and picked up his chopsticks. “Do you remember when Guardian’s headquarters was bombed?”

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