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When his phone rings, he fishes it from his pocket, answers with a, “Yes,” and walks out the door.
“You play dirty,” I tell her, shaking my head. “You told him about our bet.”
“You deserved it. Now, don’t let Mr. Billionaire make you forget who you are, babe. That’s all. Plus, Brody the Bodyguard is total eye candy.”
I remember what he said.
“It’s because they’re related,” I say.
“I can see that.”
She laughs and pours herself a glass of water. I open one of the boxes I had shipped here and look inside, trying to remember what I packed. Most of it is photos.
Carlee sets her glass on the counter. “Still can’t get over you two. Pretty sure you and Easton are proof that love still exists. Kinda gives me hope.”
Guilt floods through me; I know it’s all fake. Maybe my idea of love has always been fake. Maybe everyone is pretending, and this is as real as it will ever be.
“Thanks,” I offer, hoping this doesn’t get out of hand, but the avalanche has started. There’s no stopping it now. I realize that this could be the secret recipe for disaster.
She yawns. “Well, I guess I’m gonna take a nap before work. What time do you have to be ready to leave?”
I unlock my phone and glance at the time. “One hour.”
Carlee walks toward me and hugs me. “If you need anything, I’m always here, okay?”
“Same,” I tell her with a smile.
She moves to her room and the door closes.
It’s quiet, other than the faint sound of a horn honking in the distance. I realize I have questions I want answered, and there is one person here who can help.
I let out a sigh, taking the four flights of stairs to the ground floor and stepping outside. Brody is playing a game on his phone and looks up at me before returning to what he was doing.
“You said I was going to bust Easton’s balls.”
“You are.” He doesn’t look up.
“How are you related?” I ask.
“We’re cousins.”
“Oh,” I say. “The things you must’ve seen, being his bodyguard.”
He clears his throat. “Can we skip the small talk?”
“Rude.” I scoff. “How long have you worked for him?”
“Fifteen years.”
I glance away, focusing on the cloudless sky. The sunlight reflects through the trees, and I swallow down my nerves and ask what I want to know. “Is this typical day-nine behavior?”
Brody bursts into hearty laughter. “He actually told you?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing with you and Easton is typical.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Ever.”
He’s being sincere, and I appreciate the honesty.