"Do you want the job or not?"
"I don't need fucking charity from Nighthawk Security or Richmond Enterprises," Jess answered.
"It pays two-thousand dollars a day," Trish said to her oldest friend.
"I'll take it," Jess said with barely a milliseconds hesitation.
"Good. He wants a skilled investigator on this."
"Don't bullshit me," Jessica Jones replied, "I know exactly which of my skills Kyle fucking Richmond wants."
"He has skills of his own. He doesn't need you for that."
"That's not what I meant. I mean he wants to get into my pants."
"Jesus, that was one time at the Christmas party and he had been drinking."
"Are you saying he had to be drunk to make a pass at me? Are you saying I'm not attractive?"
"Fuck you."
"Anywhere, any time, babe." Jess answered.
The two women took a moment to draw breath and let their faces relax from the continuous smiles that had accompanied most of their usual banter.
"Two thousand a day." Jess said.
"Two thousand a day. Stop by around noon to sign the papers and we can have lunch."
"Deal."
The call ended without any further fanfare. Jess was not one for anything even remotely resembling a long goodbye. Trish had only a brief moment to contemplate her best friend before that moment was interrupted by the special light on her desk phone that said that Kyle Richmond himself wanted her in his office right fucking now.
Great, Trish thought as she slipped on the most uncomfortable shoes known to mankind, just great.
The woman seated in the oversized leather chair needed no introduction anywhere on the planet that had electricity and internet service.
Holy shit, that's Annelie fucking Bodin, Trish thought.
Seated next to the tall, blonde, Swedish actress was Trish's equally tall employer who barely took his eyes off the woman seated next to him as Trish entered his oversized office.
Jess isn't the only one he wants to get into.
"Trish, come meet Annelie Bodin," Kyle said as Trish traversed the short but treacherous space between them.
Christ, I have perfect balance and heightened perception and I can still barely walk in these fucking shoes.
"A pleasure," said the beautiful woman who stood easily four inches taller than Trish. She had obviously worked quite hard to extinguish her native accent when speaking English, and it was only Trish's heightened senses that allowed her to identify the small sliver that remained.
For God's sake, eat a sandwich, Trish thought as she looked at the tall, thin woman.
"Nöjet är helt och hållet mitt," Trish replied, gaining a smile and a perfectly manicured raised eyebrow.
"är du svensk?"
"Nej, jag pratar bara lite svenska. Jag tänkte att det kanske gör dig mer bekväm"
"Det är väldigt sött av dig. Tack. Din accent är ganska bra."
"Trish likes to show off all the languages she speaks," Kyle said with a smile.
Dick, Trish thought as her own smile to her boss masked her true thoughts.
"How many languages do you speak?" Annelie asked her.
"A few. Just the ones I needed for work."
"Trish still does a bit of modeling, when she can find the time in her busy schedule." Kyle said as he looked at Trish.
Shut up, Jesus. Why don't you just tell her everything.
"Is that so?" Annelie said as her blue eyes focused on Trish's brown pair before traveling down and up Trish's sculpted form.
Trish could see Annelie's cheeks get flush.
No fucking way, Trish thought, I don't have that kind of luck.
"Nothing you would have seen. I'm too short for any of the big agencies. It's mostly fitness modeling now."
"You certainly have the body for it." Annelie said as her smile reappeared and her eyes locked on Trish's.
NO. FUCKING. WAY.
"Well, let's get down to business," Kyle said in a tone of voice that Trish could not miss.
Don't be a sore fucking loser, Trish thought as they all sat around the round glass coffee table.
"Annelie is in town to attend a benefit screening of The Chill of Winter at The Actor's Studio before flying to Chicago for location shooting for her latest movie. The studio wants special security arrangements for her for her entire stay in the States. We will take very good care of her while she is here, fly with her to Chicago, and place her into very capable hands in the windy city."
"Special security?" Trish asked.
"I have bodyguards whenever I go out, it's part of the life I chose, the life I am fortunate to have," Annelie said, "but recent events have made the studio decide that it is best if I am never alone, and have someone within arms reach at all times. They hope, we all hope, that this situation will not last too long," Annelie said.
She was trying to hide how afraid she was, and she was doing a pretty good job, but not quite that good.
"The head of the studio called me, and I immediately thought of you," Kyle said to Trish.
The slight tremor in Annelie's hand was betrayed by the china coffee cup as she reached for it.
"What recent events?" Trish asked as she watched the shaking hand and cup approach a perfectly shaped mouth.
"Letters," Annelie answered after sipping her cold coffee, "disturbing letters."
"More disturbing than what you usually get?"
"They show up in my hotel rooms. In places where people should not have access."
"Poor hotel security?"
"Whoever is sending these letters knows which rooms I will have before my security does."
Or it's not some random nutjob, but someone with resources.
"So you need someone in the room with you at all times."
The set of crystal blue eyes came up again to look directly at Trish.
"You are very attractive, and if I had to choose someone to be so close to me for the next several days, it would not even be a question. But I need someone who can keep me safe, and defend me if necessary."
Kyle smiled as she was speaking, his hand traveling to his own cup of cooling coffee. He drank, and allowed the frightened actress to finish.
"Patricia is more than just a pretty face attached to an attractive figure. I employ her for situations like this. She is the highest end of the highest end of security operatives. This is what she does."
And it is how I can afford two apartments in the Tempo building on the upper west side.
Trish took Annelie's right hand, which was still shaking, in her left one, the hand that she had used to deflect a tactical baton, the night before. The bruise on her wrist was still noticeable, but the crystal blue eyes were still fixed on Trish's more common brown variety, and as Trish slowly massaged Annelie's palm with her thumb, she could feel the slender hand relax, and the tremor disappear.
"I will never leave your side, and while I am with you nothing, short of a meteor striking the planet, will lay a hand on you, or hurt you in any way."
The Swedish beauty was quiet for a moment before her smile reappeared, and her hand squeezed Trish's softly.
"När du säger det har jag inga problem att tro på det."
"Who is running security in Chicago?" Trish asked, "did the studio arrange that?"
"No, I contracted that out myself," Kyle answered flatly, "Paragon Security will see to the lady's safety once she is wheels down."
"Don't be like that. You can't expect every woman you meet to fall on her back and lift her skirt."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't bullshit me. Heightened perception, remember?"
"You're a heightened pain in the ass, is what you are," he answered, his refined facade slipping like it always did when she got under his skin, "why is it that whenever you're around my luck with women starts circling the bowl?"
"Shit. I forgot. Jess is coming by to sign the contract. We're having lunch afterwards."
"You're on the clock on this already. She is down the hall signing paperwork and getting her disguise figured out, but she'll be finished soon. After that you're not going anywhere without your new girlfriend."
It was a perfectly normal cover story when she worked close security for someone who was not in a prominent public relationship already. The thought should not have made her smile as much as it did.
"Oh, get the fuck out," Kyle said as he sat down at his desk and looked at her, "give me an hour before you come back to get her."
"You're wasting your time, she is not into you."
"Out!"
"Yes, sir."
"Bitch."
"Asshole."
"That's Mister Asshole to you."
Trish turned and smiled at her boss as she pushed the glass door to his office open and walked out before stopping once she had left her employer's line of sight.
Thank fucking God, she thought as she removed her shoes.
