Emma sat in a leather armchair, her fingers slowly tapping against the rough expensive leather of the armrest. She swirled the crystal glass that she held in her hand as she watched the golden brown liquid twirl. She gently lifted the glass to her lips and inhaled the strong odor of Bourbon that wafted over the edge. Her nose flinched at the scent of the strong alcohol. The amber liquid ran through her lips and burned a line down her throat. Emma didn't bother to the let the drink rest on her tongue; she hated Bourbon.
She tiled her head up from her drink and moved to stare at the fidgeting man that stood before her. He poured himself a hefty amount of the alcohol into a rounded glass and quickly shot it back to his lips.
"Do your hands ever shake, Miss Swan?" the man asked. His eyes were glued to the antique clock that rested on the mahogany self he had bolted against the wall. He ran a hand through his curly red hair. He fumbled with his broken glasses.
"Hardly Mr. Hopper," Emma responded. It was merely an hour ago since she threw Archie Hopper on the pavement. It was a quick attempt to save his life as she aimed her gun at the intruder who decided to take a shot at him. The intruder had dressed himself in a simple t-shirt and jeans and pretended to wash his car in the parking lot of Mr Hopper's downtown hotel. But Emma knew better. Who would insist on scrubbing an already spotless car in a poorly lit parking lot? She had her fully loaded gun drawn before the idiot could fire a single round.
Mr. Hopper finished off his drink and began to pour himself another. He motioned the bottle to Emma, who shook her head in a silent response. As she watched the fear stricken man swallow his apprehensions with another drink, she moved her hand down to her gun. It was neatly tucked in its holster. She ran her fingers along the carved edges, making sure it was nestled in properly before standing up. She pulled sharply at her red leather jacket, making sure her weapon wasn't visible before stepping up to the desk. Hopper took a sharp intake of breath before turning to face Emma.
"I never got the chance to properly thank you Miss Swan," Mr. Hopper stuttered, pushing a shaken smile across his face.
"It was my job to protect you Mr. Hopper." Emma knit her lips in a tight smile and she set down the glass she was holding.
"You are the best head of security I have ever had. Not many would put themselves in the kind of danger that you do if it meant taking a bullet," Hopper praised. He swallowed the rest of his drink before speaking again "but I am truly sorry to hear that you are leaving. I could offer you a full time job with larger pay."
Temping, Emma thought. But she never stayed around her clients for too long.
"Well as irresistible as that offer sounds, I must decline, my resume firmly states that I am a part time security guard," she affirmed.
Archie nodded slowly and set his drink down. He reached across his desk to snatch a pen. He quickly scribbled a check for Emma's last payment. He tore it off of the pad and extended his arm to hand her the money. Emma accepted it with the same tense smile planted across her lips.
"It has been a pleasure to have you Miss Swan," Mr. Hopper said. He closed his checkbook and picked up his glass again.
"It has been a pleasure working for you," Emma replied. Bowing her head silently before snatching her brief case off the leather armchair, Emma made her way out of the large wooden doors with her blond hair swaying elegantly behind her.
Emma kicked the front door of apartment 815 open with the heel of her snug black boots. She was finally home after what seemed like ages of work. In her hands she juggled a bag of Chinese takeout, her brown leather briefcase, a crinkly brown bag overflowing with junk food, and her cell phone. Her current juggle of items caused a box of hot chocolate mix to slip out of the bag and slide across the apartment floor.
"Jesus," Emma hissed as the brown bag topped over. She couldn't catch a break could she? She bent down to pick up the stray groceries before dropping them on her kitchen counter. Under the piles of chips, pretzels, and sodas, her phone began to vibrate. She moved towards it only to see David's name shine on the screen.
Emma?
You there?
You're not answering.
Tried calling Mary-Margret but she won't pick up.
We need to talk. Call me.
Emma sighed. He had called her yesterday with the same message; his voicemail being all too blunt. He stated very clearly that it would be ridiculous to not take a full time job with amazing pay if she was offered one. It wouldn't be a surprise if he heard about the opening for Mr. Hopper's head of security by now. After all, he was the one who got her the job in the first place. She really didn't deserve a friend like him.
They had met a few years ago when they were both employed for a software creator who had seemed to have his share of enemies. But when his company tanked, David had gone into protecting L.A.'s more adored celebrities while Emma stuck to small jobs, like working for Archie Hooper, head of Cricket Corporations. She had become very close to both David and his bubbly girlfriend Mary-Margret, now fiancé. They were to be married in a few weeks.
Emma had never felt wanted in her life. She bounced around from foster family to foster family, never finding a place to stick. She still recalled memories of her family calmly explaining to her that she was off to live somewhere new. She remembered listening to the voices of her foster home friends promising that she too would find a home before they waved goodbye. Never had those pitied promises come true...until she met David. He helped Emma in times of trouble. He was like a brother to her.
Emma apprehensively decided she would respond later. She really didn't want to hear another lecture about how she needed to stop bouncing around from job to job. She slid her phone on the counter and slowly began to unpack her bags when suddenly...
Thump.
Emma's head whirled around to face the shadows reflecting across her dark living room. She furrowed her brows and craned her head to see if she could get a better view of the space.
Thump.
Emma's hand shot immediately to her gun, pulling it from it's place on her hip. She took slow steps towards the silhouetted room, her gun at arms length, ready to fire.
Thump.
She slowly approached the lamp switch that would bring light to the intruder. Her heart was pounding. She took in a sharp breath before she sped towards the light source and flicked it on. She spun towards the living room, now flooded with lamp light; only to find that she was pointing her gun at her nine year old son.
"Kid, what the hell?" Emma yelled, clinking her gun's safety on. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Emma waved her gun toward his room down the hall. "And where is Mary-Margret?"
"Mom, you know you can put the gun down now," he laughed.
Emma, despite her ongoing state of surprise, shoved her gun back into its holster. "But seriously, what are you doing out of bed?"
"Like I ever got in it," he said with a sly grin spread.
"Henry!" a voice called from down the hallway. From the other room popped out a wild haired Mary-Margret. Her sweater was askew and her eyes had dark bags shaded below them. Some babysitter, Emma thought.
"So how was your nap?" Emma pointed to Mary-Margret's disarrayed clothes.
"It was good, thank you very much," she huffed. Emma gave her a pointed look just as Henry ran past her toward the kitchen, ripping open the Chinese take-out bag.
"What will I ever do without you when you go off on your honeymoon?" Emma laughed. Mary-Margret shook her head and spread her lips into a small grin.
"Did David call?" she asked, currently trying to fix her appearance by ruffling her black pixie-cut hair and tugging on her cotton sweater.
"Yes he did," Emma gave her phone a side-glance, watching it light up again. Mary-Margret's eyes trailed over to what Emma was staring at. She then locked eyes with Emma, giving her a knowing glance.
"Aren't you going to answer it?" she crossed her arms over her chest, smirking at her and waiting for the expected answer. Emma slumped her shoulders and forced herself to walk over to her phone. It was David. She had no choice but to answer. Mary-Margret was staring at her as the cell had begun to vibrate and ring. Emma couldn't deny its presence anymore. She snatched it off the counter and swiped an egg roll off of Henry's plate before heading towards the balcony.
"Hey!" Henry yelled. Emma shrugged her shoulders and smiled at her son. She planted a kiss on his forehead and went towards the two sliding glass windows that made a canopy for the balcony.
As soon as the doors shut behind her, she pressed Answer.
"Emma where have you been?" David called nervously.
"Sorry, I got held up at work," Emma admitted, taking a bite out of the egg roll.
"Yes I heard, Mr. Hopper was almost killed today," David recalled "I also hear that he offered you a full time job with amazing pay."
"Well looks like the word spread fast," Emma murmured.
"Do you know how many people are going to be lining up for that position? Leroy was just talking about the opening today," David said.
"I don't need a lecture right now," Emma snapped.
"Fine, I get it," he sighed "but you can't keep bouncing from one job to another, there are only so many rich people in L.A. willing to hire a security guard."
Emma snorted. "Trust me David, there will always be enough, I'll talk to you later," she hit Decline before he could have a chance to respond.
Emma looked down to the busy street below her, watching people scurry by and the cars zoom past. A warm breeze brushed her blonde locks across her face. She could smell the salty waft of the ocean in the air. Maybe David was right, she should find a permanent job. But there was always a voice inside of her head telling her stay until payday and let someone else take over. Perhaps it was the constant changing in the foster system that made Emma fear she would get too attached to her clients and be pained to leave them. For nine years now she repeated the same thing to herself over and over again like a prayer. Never let your guard down. Never let them out of your sight. Never get to attached. And absolutely, never fall in love.
David rushed down the never-ending hallway that lead to a double door opening. He was due for a security meeting and he was already late. His consistent efforts to reach Emma made him loose track of time. He burst through the double doors to greet the faces of his employee's, Leroy and Victor Whale, who had already made themselves comfortable in the luxurious conference room. David fixed his black suit and tucked his phone away. His eye's scanned the room only to realize that the guest of honor was missing.
"Ok," David sighed "where the hell is he?"
"Like he's ever on time," Leroy sneered. Him and Victor were both leaning back in the two black armchairs that circled the shiny glass coffee table.
"How much do you want to bet he's drinking his ass off again?" Whale laughed coldly.
"Wouldn't be the first time," David cocked his head in agreement. Then, as if on cue, the double doors swung open to reveal the man they had all been waiting for. His black stubble traced his lean jaw and his blue eyes glowed with mischief. He wore a black t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and had a leather jacked slung over his shoulder.
"Speak of the devil," David turned to face him.
"'Bout time you showed up Jones," Leroy spat impatiently.
"Where were you Jones?" David pressed. Killian Jones moved to flop over in the chair behind an auburn mahogany desk that was placed at the head of the room.
"Don't fret lads, I was just having a drink with a couple of the nice ladies that we seemed to invite over for dinner," Killian slurred.
"Looks like I won the bet," Victor laughed. David cleared his throat and shot Whale an impatient look before staring daggers into Killian.
"You mean the maids," David clarified sternly. Killian raised an eyebrow before planting a smirk on his face. David sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Alright, enough of this crap," Leroy snapped, "We came here to discuss a certain matter."
"Ah yes," Killian stood up and walked over to the bar that was against the wall. He popped open a bottle of rum and quickly poured himself a full glass "and what would that be?" he took a sip of the golden liquor.
"I'm going to be out for a few weeks," David stated.
"For what mate?" Killian asked, tossing aside the glass, which he had emptied within merely seconds. He settled for grabbing the entire rum bottle and taking a swing.
"I'm getting married," David explained.
"Oh. Well congrats!" Killian lifted his glass in a toast.
"Yeah thanks," David sighed "but that means that I am going to have someone take over for me for the next couple of weeks."
Leroy and Victor both glanced at each other with curious looks in their eyes.
"Well who could possibly be granted the honor of being the head security guard for world–renowned singer Killian Jones?" He laughed before flopping down in his chair once more.
"I happen to know a very capable person for the job," David smiled "might even whip you into shape." Killian cocked his brows, intrigued by the statement.
"Who is he then?" he asked.
"Her name is Emma Swan," David finished.
"Ah, a women," Killian smiled "This should be interesting." He stood up again, preparing to make his leave. "Is that all?"
"In a sense yes," David answered, "if she accepts the job."
"All right then." Killian walked towards the door, just to be caught by David's strong hand.
"Not so fast Jones," he said, pulling him back. Killian tilted his head in confusion.
"What else could you possibly have to tell me?"
"I don't want you to lay one hand on Emma, you understand," David answered sternly. "She's like a sister to me and I don't want her to get hurt."
Killian was known for romancing other women. He drank and partied like there was no tomorrow, only to stumble into his concerts hung-over and functioning purely on Aspirin. He wasn't one to fall in love easily, and after his last experience, he knew better than to get too attached. He had fallen face first into a world of problems during his last relationship and since then, he hadn't written a song in months. At night he would drink himself into oblivion in hopes of forgetting the events of the previous months.
Killian smirked before locking eyes with David. "Believe me mate when I say the last thing I intend on doing is hurting someone close to you."
David nodded his head before pushing Jones out the door. The singer raised his glass in a finally toast as he walked backwards through the doorway. "And congrats again on the wedding, Nolan. She is one lucky lass."
David shook his head. Idiot, he thought as he made his way out the door.