Page 40 of Secret Enemy Protector

"Well, I guess those are some of the things that come with me inheriting a position," she breathes heavily. Even though we didn't have complete intercourse. I’m still stripped down with a lazy erection, lying in bed with her.

"And what’s that like?" I ask.

"Horrific," she chuckles. "Many people think that inheriting a position is a lazy form of getting somewhere, but in reality, it's one of the most difficult. Even more for me that didn't have to work my way from the ground up."

She's right. Children that inherit positions have a lot of responsibility on their shoulders. I learned that being at the edge of my father’s throne.

One may think it's a position that comes with bliss and lazy enjoyment, but it's one that is rather tedious. It had to be studied for, practiced, and drilled into me repeatedly until I understand exactly what I'm meant to do in various situations.

I was a practicing Sultan even before I got a whiff of the position. Hell, I haven’t even become a Sultan yetbecauseI haven’t been coronated officially, and still, right before my father died, there was an event I had to attend.

At that event, my dad made me function as if I was already the ruler and make sure everything was in its proper place. Both sides of the spectrum are difficult. There's the side where you must work and follow instructions.

There's also the side where you must identify problems, create solutions, and turn them into instructions. If anything, it's as difficult if not more than carrying out instructions themselves.

"You weren’t prepared for the position?" I inquire of her.

"I was. I just didn’t think it would come so soon," she responds.

"That’s actually very valid."

"Work is so much more than I expected it to be. The only person I’ve ever had to answer to was my dad," she explains, "and then all of a sudden, he’s not there. Now, everyone answers to me. There's a shift, a rift so wide I don’t even know how I was able to jump over it."

Her eyes float around the room, but I know she is not here. She's back in the scenario where everything started.

"One moment I’m following orders, the next I’m making them, and all the while I have no idea what I’m doing." She shakes her head and scoffs; there's a small smile on her face representing the nostalgia of those difficult moments.

"Now it’s all just orders and orders and then trying to mitigate and diffuse catastrophic situations that you yourself have never seen in your life. So, yeah, horrific is the word."

The both of us kind of chuckle at the explanation until the silence prevails and gives room for another question. This time it's her to ask.

"You know it was always strange to me why you chose being a bodyguard of all professions. Seems rather underwhelming considering the level of intelligence you seem to possess." Her hands play along my chest. "You could have been a cop or something, why a bodyguard?"

I have no way to answer that question. The only thing I can depend on right now is my innate lying skills and a little bit of luck to hope I don’t get caught.

I make it up as I talk like always, and my natural semi-silent nature gives me enough time to pause between my sentences. Well, she might think it’s just me being normally slow to words; it gives me the perfect window to think about what I want to say next and how my stories can connect.

"I never wanted to be a bodyguard, of course," I tell her. "I don’t think anybody wants some certain career paths. I’m very sure I would seldom see a kid aspire to be a garbage man or anightclub bouncer. Bodyguard falls in that category. No one just dreams of becoming one, so as always, how I ended up in that spot would always be a story to tell."

I decide I’m going to tell Rebecca the truth though, but I’m going to be very crafty with omissions.

"My father was a businessman." I mean technically he was, but people will more readily recognize him as the Sultan of Oman. "All my life I was bred with the mentality of taking over from him, and veritably speaking I guess that was all I wanted to do myself.

"Everything I did, whatever little education I got, I made sure it was targeted at the business my father ran. I mean I did get an education; it just wasn’t little. He passed away not too long ago, and I just couldn’t sustain his business. I guess there's very little for me to do, so I guess I just have to take up this job so I can either get his business to start up again or do something of my own."

"I’m so sorry about that, Jordan. Life deals us all uncertain hands, and some just have it easier than others. I wish there was a more central way to live honestly." she muses.

As we talk, I notice a certain shift in the room. It's almost like all interests in the conversation had completely disappeared, and Rebecca’s mind was somewhere else.

Her hands stop playing around my chest, and her look becomes more focused.

"I’m sorry, I think there’s something I have to do," she says and stands up still naked.

"What's all the hurry about?" I ask.

"There’s just something I have to check on...some work, I guess," she breathes and leaves before I can say anything more.

10

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