Page 9

Olivia

C hesna is not happy. Her tail flicks back and forth, angrily sweeping the kitchen counter as she watches the two men who have commandeered my entryway.

I sit parallel, hiding my stare behind a sip of tea. Which is difficult when one of them is installing a glistening new electric door knob and the other is positioning a camera in the corner of the living room.

Chesna cranes her neck back as if to say What the hell, Mom?

“I know,” I whisper, scratching her chin.

Warden and Bishop- Taylor Bishop, who I barely met at dinner with my Dad- spent most of the evening moving a new bed into my office. I moved my desk into the living room overlooking my balcony. It’s a tight fit… and I never agreed to the cameras, but I can’t put up much of a fight now.

This is their job , I remind myself.

Across the room, Crew finishes installing the door hardware, and the lock clicks as he types in the code. The sound sends Chesna scurrying off to my room as he stops in front of me.

He sets a new key on the counter. A new key and a code too. “We’re almost done here and then I’ll hand things over to Taylor. He’ll have first shift.”

My exchange with Taylor was brief. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Scruffy beard. He has the same build as Crew, but from what I can tell, he’s a lot less standoffish. He smiled when we met. Shook my hand even. While it feels slightly less awkward with him, both of them are practically moving in for the foreseeable future. Any chance I had of enjoying my alone-time is gone.

I snatch up the key, tucking it in the zippered pocket of my leggings. I barely managed to fit in a yoga session before they came earlier.

“Thank you. Is there…” I clear my throat, trying not to avoid his gaze. “What do you need from me?”

“Just a rough schedule for the week.” His brown eyes flicker over me, and just the idea that he might see how tired I am makes me feel like I probably should’ve showered. Or changed.

“I’ll get it to you tomorrow.” I smile in lieu of a goodbye, tea in hand. But before I leave, I turn abruptly. “About the cameras… I don’t want them in my room.”

I can’t quite read the look on his face. That same quiet, observant look he always has. He nods slowly, looking toward Taylor. “We’ll remove them and put them in the hall instead. But I recommend we keep the one with a view of your window.”

God, I’m going to regret agreeing to this.

My eyes dip toward the pistol holstered to his hip. Taylor has the same standard issue holstered to his thigh. I squeeze my mug a little tighter. “Is all of this really necessary?”

“Yes,” he answers simply.

Part of me resents that complacency feels an awful lot like trust. Or, at least, as close to trust as it gets.

I sigh. “Guess I’ll just have to believe you for now.”

Sleep is fitful. I start the next day early, and the hours pass quickly as I shower and finish client calls, arranging my schedule for the rest of the month.

Every weekend is jam-packed with weddings. My calendar is color-coded with pink, blue, and yellow sticky tabs to mark new client consults and bridal showers. I’m proud as hell of the flourishing company I’ve built, but I can barely keep track of everything.

I remember when I struggled to get a single name on the books. It wasn’t long ago. Dad always offered to help put my name out there. But I never let him. And now my business is my own. Not my father’s. Every dream I have about expanding and hiring more planners is mine too.

A knock at the door startles me from my thoughts, and I sit up, laptop still in my lap. Chesna scurries under the bed as Taylor peeks his head inside.

“Saw your schedule on the kitchen counter. Looks like there’s a party downtown tonight?”

“Yes. It’s at a rooftop restaurant. Don’t think I’ve ever been, but I’m dressing up rather than down.”

“Lemoncello. I remember.” His answering smile is kind, and the striking contrast between him and Crew becomes more and more apparent. While Crew is quiet and serious, Taylor’s more friendly. Outgoing.

He and I will get along well.

“Formal attire then, I’ll do my best. If it’s alright with you, we’ll take my car.”

I smile back. “Okay. I’m planning to get ready soon.”

“Crew and I will probably switch off when we get back.”

I nod, and he smiles again before closing the door. Chesna comes out of her hiding spot slowly, perching on the end of the bed. She’s never taken kindly to strangers. Little does she know they’ll be sticking around for a while.

Behind her, I glance at the floor-length gown hanging above my bathroom door. The yellow silk and complimenting green ribbon for my hair are only part of what makes the dress so stunning, but I’m most excited about the long trench coat I get to wear with it.

“Think it will be cold enough for it?” I ask Chesna aloud.

Her only reply is to bury into my comforter.