Page 16 of Not the Bodyguard's Baby
In Adam’s experience, only two types of people went into the security business—those who felt a need to protect others from harm and those who wanted license to harm others in the name of doing good. In school, they were the bullies. As adults, they enjoyed being able to tell people to back off and give them a shove, necessary or not. It was often hard to determine which was which from a résumé or meeting them the first time. Backgrounds could be the same—former military or law enforcement. It wasn’t until you saw them in action that the bully was discerned from the hero. Over the years, his father had hired a few guards he’d had to let go when they crossed the line from bodyguard to bully. “She wouldn’t have been prepared for a bodyguard who didn’t meet father’s code of conduct.”
“She wasn’t.”
Adam pulled into a parking lot and shut off the SUV so he could focus on the conversation. “Did he hurt her?”
Melanie looked out the window. “I’m not sure how to answer. I will disclose that he is the threat I am concerned about most in her life.”
“Because he is Harmony’s father or something else?”
“I can’t confirm your assumption.” His mother turned to face him.
“September released you from some confidentiality when she said you could turn over your security to dad.”
“Yes, but that information does not include who is the father. Only whom I consider to be current threats to September and Harmony. And, yes, Sven is not someone I want in her vicinity. I also don’t want Shyla around September without a third party in the room. That will be more difficult with someone else as head of security. “
“I never liked Shyla.”
“Shyla is a marketing genius. And she cares for September enough to keep her out of harm’s way, for the most part. She isn’t a bad woman. It is the rare manager who cares for her client more than she does the money.”
“Shyla never liked having me around.”
“Of course not. For September, being married would change everything with her career. You were a threat.”
Adam opened his mouth, ready to correct his mother, but she put up her hand.
“I should have told your father to rotate you out of September’s security team the summer before you quit. The two of you danced around each other for months, both in denial of your feelings. I didn’t pull you because I thought you were both half in love, and I didn’t see it ending with you walking away.”
“I didn’t—” Adam stopped talking when Mom started to frown. “I did what I thought was best. She could have been killed. I wasn’t paying enough attention to her surroundings and too much to September.”
“You could have quit being her bodyguard without quitting her life.”
There wasn’t a good answer short of admitting that his mother was right. He hadn’t seen it then. Now it was too late.
In the back seat, Harmony started to fuss. Adam started the car and hoped she would fall back asleep.
* * *
September sat up in bed, hand over her mouth. Had she screamed? She listened for the footsteps of a nurse or attendant. None came. According to the clock, it wasn’t yet midnight. She lay back on the bed. Better to acknowledge the nightmare than to pretend it didn’t happen. A secured wing of the hospital protected her. Harmony was safely asleep at the Hastings’. Only a complete idiot would attempt to get to Harmony there. Although she hadn’t seen any media in the past two days, if a story broke about her location or Harmony’s existence, she would have learned of it from Dr. Brooks.
Fluffing the impossibly flat pillow, she thought about the comments she’d heard in the various classes and counseling sessions. So many of them focused on honesty. Her career image had been built on her reputation for honesty and chastity. Ironically, had she been truthful with Adam and herself last year when he’d kissed her, things might be different now. Her choices leading to the conception of Harmony would never have been made, or perhaps she would be married now and Harmony really would have Adam for a father. Dr. Brooks would want her to talk about things from her past. Some of the hurts were obvious to the world—orphaned at fifteen, growing up on stage, and the very existence of Harmony proving she broke promises to God and her fans. During the last six months, she had faced much of those talking to Melanie and writing in a journal in secret code. Perhaps she was paranoid, but if her thoughts and feelings were ever made public—she shuddered. She hoped her code was indecipherable. The learning was in the writing, not so much in the reading, and so she often wrote sentences using the first letter of each word. “Melanie asked me if I still loved Adam,” became “MamiIslA.” She defied any cryptographer to figure out the meaning when thrown in the middle of her coded pages. For fun, she would write random paragraphs in French, some in code and others not.
Sleep wouldn’t come. She turned on one of her lights and picked up the journal she’d received in class earlier that day. Since it contained assignments, she hadn’t coded most of the pages. September opened to the fifth to the last page.
InttAwh.I need to tell Adam what happened.
WhbInslh?Will he believe I never stopped loving him?
IunwIwd.I understand now what I was doing.
Itmmhonbpmiar.I think my manager helped, or not, by pushing me into another relationship.
Icbhfcim.I can’t blame her for choices I made.
Ibtlhtmsel.I bought the lie he told me sex equals love.
ItawIcumethmfiohtwtfoah?Is there a way I can use my experience to help my fans instead of hurting them when they find out about Harmony?
The last sentence made her stop. She’d written it out nearly substituting the wordfriendsforfans. As Shyla feared, she would lose fans over giving her virtue away to someone she shouldn’t have, but was there a way to turn the experience to good? Who could she ask?
