Page 44 of Nanny for the SEALs

“That bad?”

He nodded. “Now, I’m not a woman. Obviously. But doing this job for as long as I’ve done, I’ve come to learn that social media’s always rough for a woman like her. The average female celebrity gets seventeen death threats or rape threats a day. Amirah is getting thirty-seven.Per day. You believe that? And some of these aren’t your normal threats. Some are… personal. I won’t get into the details.”

“I’m starting to rethink my career choice,” I said. “Picking Play-Doh out of my hair doesn’t seem so bad anymore.”

“Amirah will be all right,” Brady said. “At least, she will be now that she’s hired us.” He patted his chest above the heart.

“You’re awfully cocky about it.”

“Not cocky. Just confident. We’re good at what we do, let me tell you.”

“Why, just because you were Navy SEALs?” I asked.

Brady nodded. “It’s the same skill set.”

“It seems like theoppositeskill set,” I argued. “As a SEAL, you probably barged into places and shot everyone up. Being a bodyguard means protecting someone.”

He only smiled at me. “There’s a lot more overlap than you would think.”

I rolled my eyes. “So you’re saying you rush around, clearing rooms ahead of her like it’s some covert operation?”

“Nothing that dramatic. But being a SEAL means always being on alert for potential threats.”

The discussion ended as we reached my apartment. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be back,” I said.

But he hopped out of the car and ran to the door. He dramatically put his finger to his ear like he was listening to an ear-piece. “No ma’am. I’m under strict orders to protect you from any and all threats in the building.”

I stifled a giggle. “You’re a bad actor.”

He ran up the first flight of steps, then quickly looked one way, then the other. “Clear!” he shouted, loud enough to send a flock of birds into the air from a nearby ledge.

I laughed and followed him. That’s when I noticed the gun holster on his hip, underneath his leather jacket.

“I didn’t know you were allowed to carry one of those in California.”

Brady glanced at it like he had forgotten it was there. “You need a special permit. Which unit is yours, ma’am?”

“You know, it’s kind of fun being calledma’am. Although I’m several years younger than you.”

“Ma’am, please!” Brady insisted, as if it were a matter of life and death. “The unit!”

“Third floor, unit B.”

Brady rushed ahead cartoonishly, leather jacket swirling as he went. He paused at intersections to look both ways before continuing. When I got to the third floor, he was waiting by the door.

“I’ll perform a sweep of the apartment before you go inside.”

“It will be a quick sweep. It’s a studio.”

He grabbed my keys from me, unlocked the door, then rushed inside.

“You’re areallybad actor!” I said as I followed him.

He dropped the act and laughed once we were inside. Then he looked around.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is tiny. No wonder you were soaking up all the hotel luxuries last night.”

“How’d you know about that?”

---