Page 4 of Trust My Bodyguard

“It’s been too long since I last saw the old man.” Nick grins.

I stand and dust off my pants. “Let’s go say hi, shall we?”

We pack up, say goodbye to Nancy, and head out. We find Cliff in his office in the main building.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as we walk through the door. He rises from his desk and comes around to hug Nick and Zane and then he claps my shoulder. He has never been one for showing big emotions but his affection shows in his eyes. “My, how you’ve all grown up.”

“Some more than others.” Nick glances at me.

I straighten my back and glare at him. I stand at least three inches above him and Zane but he’s always been a little rascal stirring up trouble.

“It’s all the same to me. I’m glad to have you back.” Cliff smiles at us. “Are you ready to see your space?”

“More than ready.” Nick beams. “Is it good?”

“Only the best.” The older man walks toward the door. “Follow me.”

Cliff brings us to only the grandest space ever. A space he’d have never let us step foot in when we were teens.

“Whoa.” Nick echoes our awe. He’s the first to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight streams through, golden and pure. Based on the view downhill to the town, the scene at night would be equally as breathtaking.

I draw closer to inspect it myself. “Can’t wait to get some time on those slopes.”

“And you thought I was weird this morning.” Nick eyes me.

“I didn’t.”

“Did too.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong…” Nick raises his voice, drawing the others’ attention. “Does Brody get a little judgy sometimes or not?”

“I’m not going to be a part of this,” Cliff announces. “Enjoy your new office. You know where to find me if you need anything. Good luck.”

With that, he leaves.

Nick turns to his next victim.

Zane raises a hand to quiet him even before he speaks. “I don’t have the mental energy to deal with that right now.”

“Harsh.”

“But yes, Brody can be judgy.”

Nick beams.

“And you’re annoying.”

“No one asked. Thank you.”

I scoff and laugh. “Maybe save some of that energy for the new receptionist. She’ll be coming in tomorrow.”

“A girl.” Nick grins and waggles his brows.

“She’s the receptionist and nothing more,” I say.

“We’ll see about that.”

Zane ignores our conversation, too busy assessing the chairs around the long, oval table. Probably picking out the seat that would become his.

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